 CHAPTER XVIII A retrospect. My School Days. The silent gliding on of my existence, the unseen unfelt progress of my life from childhood up to youth. Let me think. As I look back upon that floating water, now a dry channel overgrown with leaves, whether there are any marks along its course, by which I can remember how it ran, a moment, and I occupy my place in the cathedral, where we all went together every Sunday morning, assembling first at school for that purpose. The earthy smell, the sunless air, the sensation of the world being shut down, the resounding of the organ, through the black-and-white arched galleries and aisles, are wings that take me back and hold me hovering above those days in a half-sleeping, half-waking dream. I am not the last boy in the school. I have risen in a few months over several heads, but the first boy seems to me a mighty creature dwelling far off whose giddy height is unattainable. This says no, but I say yes, and tell her that she little thinks what stores of knowledge have been mastered by the wonderful being, at whose place she thinks I, even I, weak, aspirant, may arrive in time. He is not my private friend and public patron, as Steerforth was, but I hold him in a reverential respect. I chiefly wonder what he'll be when he leaves Dr. Strong's and what mankind will do to maintain any place against him. But who is this that breaks upon me? This is Miss Shepherd, whom I love. Miss Shepherd is a border at the Mrs. Nettingall's establishment. I adore Miss Shepherd. She is a little girl in a Spencer with a round face and curly flaxen hair. The Mrs. Nettingall's young ladies come to the cathedral, too. I cannot look upon my book, for I must look upon Miss Shepherd. When the choristers chant, I hear Miss Shepherd. In the service I mentally insert Miss Shepherd's name. I put her in among the royal family, at home in my own room. I am sometimes moved to cry out, Oh, Miss Shepherd, in a transport of love. For some time I am doubtful of Miss Shepherd's feelings, but at length fate being propitious we meet at the dancing school. I have Miss Shepherd for my partner. I touch Miss Shepherd's glove and feel a thrill go up the right arm of my jacket and come out at my hair. I say nothing to Miss Shepherd, but we understand each other. Miss Shepherd and myself live but to be united. Why do I secretly give Miss Shepherd twelve Brazil nuts for a present, I wonder? They are not expressive of affection. They are difficult to pack into a parcel of any regular shape. They are hard to crack, even in room doors. And they are oily when cracked, yet I feel they are appropriate to Miss Shepherd. Soft, seedy biscuits, also I bestow upon Miss Shepherd, and oranges innumerable. Once I kiss Miss Shepherd in the cloakroom, ecstasy. What are my agony and indignation next day when I hear a flying rumour that the Mrs. Nettingall have stood Miss Shepherd in the stocks for turning in her toes? Miss Shepherd being the one pervading theme and vision of my life, how do I ever come to break with her? I can't conceive, and yet a coolness grows between Miss Shepherd and myself. Whispers reach me of Miss Shepherd having said she wished I wouldn't stare so, and having avowed a preference for Master Jones. For Jones! A boy of no merit, whatever! The gulf between me and Miss Shepherd widens. At last, one day, I meet the Mrs. Nettingall's establishment, out walking. Miss Shepherd makes a face as she goes by, and laughs to her companion, all is over. The devotion of a life, it seems a life, it is all the same, is at an end. Miss Shepherd comes out of the morning service, and the royal family know her no more. I am higher in the school, and no one breaks my peace. I am not at all polite now to the Miss Nettingall's young ladies, and shouldn't do it on any of them, if they were twice as many and twenty times as beautiful. I think that dancing school attires some affair, and wonder why the girls can't dance by themselves, and leave us alone. I'm growing great in Latin verses, and neglect the laces of my boots. Dr. Strong refers to me in public, as a promising young scholar. Mr. Dick is wild with joy, and my aunt remits me a guinea by the next post. The shade of a young butcher rises like the apparition of an armed head in Macbeth. Who is this young butcher? He is the terror of youth of Canterbury. There is a vague belief abroad, that the beef suet with which he anoints his hair gives him unnatural strength, and that he is a match for a man. He has a broad-faced, bull-necked young butcher with rough red cheeks, an ill-conditioned mind, and an injurious tongue. His main use of this tongue is to disparage Dr. Strong's young gentleman. He says publicly, that if they want anything, he'll give it to him. He names individuals among them, myself included, whom he could undertake to settle with one hand and the other tied behind him. He waylays the smaller boys to punch their unprotected heads, and calls challenges after me in the streets. For these sufficient reasons I resolve to fight the butcher. It is a summer evening, down in the green hollow at the corner of a wall. I meet the butcher by appointment. I am attended by a select body of our boys, the butcher by two other butchers, a young publican and a sweep. The preliminaries are adjusted, and the butcher and myself stand face to face. In a moment the butcher lights ten thousand candles out of my left eyebrow. In another moment I don't know where the wall is, or where I am, or where anybody is. I hardly know which is myself and which the butcher. We are always in such a tangle and tussle, knocking about upon the trodden grass. Sometimes I see the butcher, bloody but confident. Sometimes I see nothing and sit, gasping on my second's knee. Sometimes I go in at the butcher madly, and cut my knuckles open against his face, without appearing to discompose him at all. At last I awake, very queer about the head as from a giddy sleep, and see the butcher walking off congratulated by the two other butchers and the sweep and the publican, putting on his coat as he goes, for which I augur justly, that the victory is his. I am taken home in a sad plight, and I have beef steaks put to my eyes and am rubbed with vinegar and brandy, and find a great puffy place bursting out of my upper lip, which swells immoderately. For three or four days I remain at home a very ill-looking subject with a green shade over my eyes, and I should be very dull. But that Agnes is a sister to me, and condols with me, and reads to me, and makes the time light and happy. Agnes has my confidence completely always. I tell her about the butcher and the wrongs he has heaped upon me. She thinks I could have done otherwise than fight the butcher while she shrinks and trembles at my having fought him. Time has stolen unobserved, for Adams is not the head-boy in the days that have come now, nor has he been this many and many a day. Adams has left the school so long that when he comes back on a visit to Dr. Strong there are not many there, besides myself, who know him. Adams is going to be called to the bar almost directly, and is to be an advocate, and to wear a wig. I am surprised to find him a meeker man than I had thought, and less imposing in appearance. He has not staggered the world yet, either, for it goes on, as well as I can make out, pretty much the same as if he had never joined it. A blank through which the warriors of poetry and history march on in stately hosts that seem to have no end, and what comes next? I am the head-boy now. I look down on the line of boys below me with a condescending interest in such of them as bring to my mind the boy I was myself when I first came there. That little fellow seems to be no part of me. I remember him as something left behind upon the road of life, as something I have passed, rather than have actually been, and almost think of him as of someone else. And the little girl I saw on that first day at Mr. Wickfield's, where is she? Gone also. In her stead the perfect likeness of the picture. The childlikeness no more moves about the house, and Agnes, my sweet sister, as I call her in my thoughts, my counsellor and friend, the better angel of the lies of all who come within her calm, good, self-denying influence, is quite a woman. What other changes have come upon me besides the changes in my growth and looks, and in the knowledge I have garnered at this while? I wear a gold watch and chain, a ring upon my little finger in a long-tailed coat. I use a great deal of bear's grease, which, taken in conjunction with the ring, looks bad. Am I in love again? I am. I worship the eldest Miss Larkins. The eldest Miss Larkins is not a little girl. She is a tall, dark, black-eyed, fine figure of a woman. The eldest Miss Larkins is not a chicken, for the youngest Miss Larkins is not that, and the eldest must be three or four years older. Perhaps the eldest Miss Larkins may be about thirty? My passion for her is beyond all bounds. The eldest Miss Larkins knows officers. It is an awful thing to bear. I see them speaking to her in the street. I see them cross the way to meet her. When her bonnet, she has a bright taste in bonnets, is seen coming down the pavement accompanied by her sister's bonnet, she laughs and talks and seems to like it. I spend a good deal of my own spare time in walking up and down to meet her. If I can bow to her once in the day, I know her to bow to, knowing Mr. Larkins. I am happier. I deserve a bow now and then. The raging agonies I suffer on the night of the race-ball, where I know the eldest Miss Larkins will be dancing with the military, ought to have some compensation, if there be even-handed justice in the world. My passion takes away my appetite. It makes me aware my newest silk-neckerchief continually. I have no relief but in putting on my best clothes and having my boots cleaned over and over again. I seem then to be worthier of the eldest Miss Larkins. Everything that belongs to her or is connected with her is precious to me. Mr. Larkins, a gruff old gentleman with double chin and one of his eyes immovable in his head, is fraught with interest to me. When I can't meet his daughter, I go where I am likely to meet him, to say, How do you do, Mr. Larkins? Are the young ladies and all the family quite well? Seems so pointed that I blush. I think continually about my age. Since I am seventeen, and say that seventeen is young for the eldest Miss Larkins, what of that? Its eyes shall be one in twenty and no time almost. I regularly take walks outside Mr. Larkins' house in the evening, though it cuts me to the heart to see the officers go in, or to hear them up in the drawing-room where the eldest Miss Larkins plays the harp. I even walk on two or three occasions in a sickly, spoony manner round and round the house after the family has gone to bed. Wondering which is the eldest Miss Larkins' chamber in pitching, I dare say now, on Mr. Larkins instead. Wishing that a fire would burst out, that the assembled crowd would stand appalled, that I, dashing through them with a ladder, might rear it against her window, save her in my arms, go back for something she had left behind, and perish in the flames. For I am generally disinterested in my love, and think I could be content to make a figure before Miss Larkins and expire. But not always. Sometimes brighter visions rise before me. When I dress, the occupation of two hours, for a great ball given at the Larkins, the anticipation of three weeks, I indulge my fancy with pleasing images. I picture myself taking courage to make a declaration to Miss Larkins. I picture Miss Larkins sinking her head upon my shoulder and saying, Oh, Mr. Copperfield, can I believe my ears? I picture Mr. Larkins waiting on me next morning and saying, My dear Copperfield, my daughter has told me all, youth there's no objection, here are twenty thousand pounds, be happy! I picture my aunt relenting and blessing us, and Mr. Dick and Dr. Strong being present at the marriage ceremony. I am a sensible fellow, I believe. I believe on looking back, I mean. And modest, I am sure. But all this goes not withstanding. I repair to the enchanted house where there are lights, chattering music, flowers, officers, I am sorry to say, and the eldest Miss Larkins ablaze of beauty. She is dressed in blue, and blue flowers in her hair, forget me not, as if she had any need to wear forget me not. It is the first really grown-up party that I have ever been invited to, and I am a little uncomfortable, for I appear not to belong to anybody, and nobody appears to have anything to say to me except Mr. Larkins, who asked me how my school-fellows are, which he didn't do, as I have not come there to be insulted. But after I have stood in the doorways for some time and feasted my eyes upon the goodness of my heart, she approaches me. She, the eldest Miss Larkins, and asks me pleasantly if I dance, I stammer with a bow. With you, Miss Larkins, with no one else inquires Miss Larkins. I should have no pleasure in dancing with anyone else. Miss Larkins laughs and blushes. I think she blushes and says, next time but one, I shall be very glad. The time arrives. It is a waltz, I think. Miss Larkins doubtfully observes when I present myself. Do you waltz? If not Captain Bailey, but I do waltz pretty well, too, as it happens, and I take Miss Larkins out. I take her sternly from the side of Captain Bailey. He is wretched, I have no doubt, but he is nothing to me. I have been wretched, too. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins. I don't know where, among whom, or how long. I only know that I swim about in space with a blue angel in a state of blissful delirium, until I find myself alone with her in a little room resting on a sofa. She admires a flower, pink, chamelea, japonica, price half a crown, in my buttonhole. I give to her and say, I ask an inestimable price for it, Miss Larkins. Indeed, what is that, returns Miss Larkins. A flower of yours that I may treasure it as a miser does gold. You're a bold boy, says Miss Larkins. There! She gives it me, not displeased, and I put it to my lips and then into my breast. Miss Larkins, laughing, draws her hand through my arm and says, Now take me back to Captain Bailey. I am lost in the recollection of this delicious interview and the waltz, when she comes to me again with a plain elderly gentleman who has been playing wist all night upon her arm and says, Oh, here is my bold friend. Mr. Chessel wants to know you, Mr. Copperfield. I feel at once that he is a friend of the family and am much gratified. I admire your taste, sir, says Mr. Chessel. It does you credit. I suppose you don't take much interest in hops. But I am a pretty large girl myself, and if you ever like to come over to our neighborhood of Ashford, and take a run at our place, we shall be glad for you to stop as long as you like. I thank Mr. Chessel warmly and shake hands. I think I am in a happy dream. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins once again. She says I waltz so well. I go home in a state of unspeakable bliss, and waltz an imagination all night long with my arm round the blue waste of my dear divinity. For some days afterwards I am lost in rapturous reflections, but I neither see her in the street nor when I call. I am imperfectly consoled for this disappointment by the sacred pledge, the perished flower. Trotwood says Agnes one day after dinner. Who do you think is going to be married tomorrow? Someone you admire. Not you, I suppose, Agnes. Not me. She's raising a cheerful face from the music she is copying. Do you hear him, Papa? The eldest Miss Larkins. To Captain Bailey? I have just enough power to ask. No, to no Captain. To Mr. Chessel, a hop grower. I am terribly dejected for about a week or two. I take off my ring, I wear my worst clothes, I use no bears grease, and I frequently lament over the late Miss Larkins faded flower. Being by that time rather tired of this kind of life and having received new provocation from the butcher, I throw the flower away, go out with the butcher and gloriously defeat him. This, and the resumption of my ring as well as of the bears grease in moderation, are the last marks I can discern now in my progress to seventeen. End of Chapter 18. Recording by John Gonzales, www.jongon.com. Chapter 19 of David Copperfield. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by John Austin. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Chapter 19 I Look About Me and Make a Discovery. I am doubtful whether I was at heart glad or sorry when my school days drew to an end and the time came for my leaving Dr. Strong's. I had been very happy there. I had a great attachment for the doctor, and I was eminent and distinguished in that little world. For these reasons I was sorry to go, but for other reasons, unsubstantial enough, I was glad. Missed the ideas of being a young man at my own disposal, of the importance attaching to a young man at his own disposal, of the wonderful things to be seen and done by that magnificent animal, and the wonderful effects he could not fail to make upon society, lured me away. So powerful were these visionary considerations in my boyish mind that I seem, according to my present way of thinking, to have left school without natural regret. The separation has not made the impression on me that other separations have. I try in vain to recall how I felt about it and what its circumstances were, but it is not momentous in my recollection. I suppose the opening prospect confused me. I know that my juvenile experiences went for little or nothing then, and that life was more like a Great Fairy's story, which I was just about to begin to read than anything else. My aunt and I had held many grave deliberations on the calling to which I should be devoted. For a year or more I had endeavored to find a satisfactory answer to our often repeated question, what would I like to be? But I had no particular liking that I could discover for anything. If I could have been inspired with the knowledge of the science of navigation, taken the command of a fast-sailing expedition and gone round the world on a triumphant voyage of discovery, I think I might have considered myself completely suited. But in the absence of any such miraculous provision, my desire was to apply myself to some pursuit that would not lie too heavily upon a purse, and to do my duty in it whatever it might be. Mr. Dick had regularly assisted at our councils with a meditative and sage demeanor. He never made a suggestion but once, and on that occasion, I don't know what put it in his head, he suddenly proposed that I should be a brazier. My aunt received this proposal so very ungraciously that he never ventured on a second, but ever afterwards confined himself to looking watchfully at her for her suggestions and rattling his money. Trot, I tell you what, my dear, said my aunt one morning in the Christmas season when I left school. As this naughty point is still unsettled and as we must not make a mistake in our decision if we can help it, I think we had better take a little breathing time. In the meanwhile, you must try to look at it from a new point of view and not as a schoolboy. I will, aunt. It has occurred to me, pursued my aunt, that a little change and a glimpse of life out of doors may be useful in helping you to know your own mind and form a cooler judgment. Suppose you were to go down into the old part of the country again, for instance, and see that, that out of the way woman with the savagest of names, said my aunt, rubbing her nose for she could never thoroughly forgive Pegatee for being so calm. Of all things in the world, aunt, I should like it best. Well, said my aunt, that's lucky for I should like it, too. But it's natural and rational that you should like it, and I am very well persuaded that whatever you do, trot, will always be natural and rational. I hope so, aunt. Your sister, Betsy Trotwood, said my aunt, would have been as natural and rational a girl as ever breathed. You'll be worthy of her, won't you? I hope I shall be worthy of you, aunt. That will be enough for me. It's a mercy that poor dear baby of a mother of yours didn't live, said my aunt, looking at me approvingly. Or she'd have been so vain of her boy by this time that her soft little head would have been completely turned if there was anything of it left to turn. My aunt always excused any weakness of her own in my behalf by transferring it in this way to my poor mother. Bless me, trotwood, how you do remind me of her. Pleasantly, I hope, aunt, said I. He's as like her dick, said my aunt emphatically. He's as like her as she was that afternoon before she began to fret. Bless my heart. He's as like her as he can look at me out of his two eyes. Is he indeed, said Mr. Dick? And he's like David, too, said my aunt decisively. He is very like David, said Mr. Dick. But what I want you to be, trot, resumed my aunt. I don't mean physically, but morally. You are very well physically. Is a firm fellow, a fine firm fellow with a will of your own, with resolution, said my aunt, shaking her cap at me and clenching her hand, with determination, with character, trot, with strength of character that is not to be influenced, except on good reason, by anybody or by anything. That's what I want you to be. That's what your father and mother might both have been, heaven knows, and been the better for it. I intimated that I hoped I should be what she described. That you may begin in a small way to have a reliance upon yourself and to act for yourself, said my aunt. I shall send you upon your trip alone. I did think once of Mr. Dick's going with you, but on second thoughts, I shall keep him to take care of me. Mr. Dick, for a moment, looked a little disappointed, until the honor and dignity of having to take care of the most wonderful woman in the world restored the sunshine to his face. Besides, said my aunt, there's the memorial. Oh, certainly, said Mr. Dick in a hurry. I intend trotwood to get that done immediately. It really must be done immediately. And then it will go in, you know, and then, said Mr. Dick after checking himself and pausing a long time, there will be a pretty kettle of fish. In pursuance of my aunt's kind scheme, I was shortly afterwards fitted out with a handsome purse of money and a portmanteau and tenderly dismissed upon my expedition. At parting, my aunt gave me some good advice and a good many kisses, and said that as her object was that I should look about me and should think a little, she would recommend me to stay a few days in London, if I liked it, either on my way down into Suffolk or in coming back. In a word, I was at liberty to do what I would for three weeks or a month. And no other conditions were opposed upon my freedom than the before mentioned thinking and looking about me. And I pledged to write three times a week and faithfully report myself. I went to Canterbury first that I might take leave of Agnes and Mr. Wickfield, my old room in whose house I had not yet relinquished, and also of the good doctor. Agnes was very glad to see me and told me that the house had not been like itself since I had left it. I am sure I am not like myself when I am away, said I. I seem to want my right hand when I miss you, though that's not saying much, for there's no head in my right hand and no heart. Everyone who knows you consoles with you and is guided by you, Agnes. Everyone who knows me spoils me, I believe, she answered, smiling. No, it's because you are like no one else. You are so good and so sweet-tempered. You have such a gentle nature, and you are always right. You talk, said Agnes, breaking into a pleasant laugh as she sat at work, as if I were the late Ms. Larkins. Come, it's not fair to abuse my confidence, I answered, reddening at the recollection of my blue unslave-er, but I shall confide in you just the same, Agnes. I can never grow out of that. Whenever I fall into trouble or fall in love, I shall always tell you if you'll let me, even when I come to fall in love in earnest. Why, you have always been in earnest, said Agnes, laughing again. Oh, that was as a child, or a schoolboy, said I, laughing in my turn, not without being a little shame-faced. Times are altering now, and I suppose I shall be in a terrible state of earnestness one day or other. My wonder is that you are not in earnest yourself by this time, Agnes. Agnes laughed again and shook her head. Oh, I know you are not, said I, because if you had been, you would have told me, or at least, for I saw a faint blush in her face. You would have let me find it out for myself. But there is no one that I know of who deserves to love you, Agnes, someone of a nobler character and more worthy altogether than anyone I have ever seen here must rise up before I give my consent. In the time to come, I shall have a wary eye on all admirers, and she'll exact the great deal from the successful one, I assure you. We had gone on, so far, in a mixture of confidential jests in earnest, that had long grown naturally out of our familiar relations, begun as mere children. But Agnes, now suddenly lifting up her eyes to mind and speaking in a different manner, said, Trotwood, there is something that I want to ask you, and that I may not have another opportunity of asking for a long time, perhaps something I would ask I think of no one else. Have you observed any gradual alteration in Papa? I had observed it, and had often wondered whether she had too. I must have shown as much now in my face, for her eyes were in a moment cast down, and I saw tears in them. Tell me what it is, she said, in a low voice. I think, shall I be quite plain, Agnes, liking him so much? Yes, she said. I think he does himself no good by the habit that has increased upon him since I first came here. He is often very nervous, or I fancy so. It is not fancy, said Agnes, shaking her head. His hand trembles, his speech is not plain, and his eyes look wild. I have remarked that at those times, and when he is least like himself, he is most certain to be wanted on some business. Ayuraya, said Agnes, yes, and the sense of being unfit for it, or of not having understood it, or of having shown his condition in spite of himself, seems to make him so uneasy that next day he is worse, and next day worse, and so he becomes jaded and haggard. Do not be alarmed by what I say, Agnes, but in this state I saw him, only the other evening lay down his head upon his desk and shed tears like a child. Her hand passed softly before my lips while I was yet speaking, and in a moment she had met her father at the door of the room and was hanging on his shoulder. The expression of her face as they both looked towards me, I felt to be very touching. There was such deep fondness for him, and gratitude to him for all his love and care, and her beautiful look. And there was such a fervent appeal to me to deal tenderly by him, even in my inmost thoughts, and to let no harsh construction find any place against him. She was at once so proud of him and devoted to him, yet so compassionate and sorry, and so reliant upon me to be so too, that nothing she could have said would have expressed more to me or moved me more. We were to drink tea at the doctors. We went there at the usual hour, and around the steady fireside found the doctor and his young wife and her mother. The doctor, who made as much of my going away as if I were going to China, received me as an honored guest, and called for a log of wood to be thrown on the fire, that he might see the face of his old pupil reddening in the blaze. I shall not see many more new faces in Trotwood's stead, Wickfield, to the doctor warming his hands. I am getting lazy and want ease. I shall relinquish all my young people in another six months and lead a quieter life. You have said so any time these 10 years, doctor, Mr. Wickfield answered, but now I mean to do it, return the doctor. My first master will succeed me, and I am earnest at last, so you'll soon have to arrange our contracts and to bind us firmly to them like a couple of knaves. And to take care, said Mr. Wickfield, that you're not imposed on, eh? As you certainly would be, and on any contract you should make for yourself. Well, I am ready. There are worse tasks than that in my calling. I shall have nothing to think of, then, said the doctor with a smile, but my dictionary and this other contract bargain, Annie. As Mr. Wickfield glanced towards her sitting at the tea table by Agnes, she seemed to me to avoid his look with such unwanted hesitation and timidity that his attention became fixed upon her, as if something were suggested to his thoughts. There is a post come in from India, I observe, he said, after a short silence. By the by, and letters from Mr. Jack Maldon, said the doctor. Indeed, poor dear Jack said Mrs. Markleham, shaking her head, that trying climate, like living they tell me on a sand heap, underneath a burning glass. He looked strong, but he wasn't. My dear doctor, it was his spirit, not his constitution that he ventured on so boldly. Annie, my dear, I am sure you must perfectly recollect that your cousin never was strong. Not what can be called robust, you know, said Mrs. Markleham with emphasis and looking around upon us generally. From the time when my daughter and himself were children together and walking about arm in arm to live long day, Annie, thus addressed, made no reply. Do I gather from what you say, man, that Mr. Maldon is ill, has Mr. Wickfield? Ill, replied the old soldier. My dear sir, he's all sorts of things. Except well, said Mr. Wickfield. Except well indeed, said the old soldier. He has had dreadful strokes of the sun, no doubt, and jungle fevers and agus, and every kind of thing you can mention. As to his liver, said the old soldier, resignedly. That, of course, he gave up altogether when he first went out. Does he say all this, as Mr. Wickfield? Say, my dear sir, returned Mrs. Markleham, shaking her head and her fan. You little know my poor Jack Maldon when you ask that question. Say, not he. You might drag him at the heels of four wild horses first. Mama, said Mrs. Strom. Annie, my dear, returned her mother. Once for all, I must really beg that you will not interfere with me unless it is to confirm what I say. You know, as well as I do, that your cousin Maldon would be dragged at the heels of any number of wild horses. Why should I confine myself to four? I won't confine myself to four. Eight, 16, two, and 30, rather than say anything calculated to overturn the doctor's plans. Wickfield's plan said the doctor is stroking his face and looking penitently at his advisor. That is to say, our joint plans for him. I said myself, abroad or at home. And I said, added Mr. Wickfield gravely, abroad. I was the means of sending him abroad. It's my responsibility. Oh, responsibility, said the old soldier. Everything was done for the best. And dear Mr. Wickfield, everything was done for the kindest and best we know. But if the dear fellow can't live there, he can't live there. And if he can't live there, he'll die there. Sooner than he'll overturn the doctor's plans. I know him, said the old soldier, fanning herself in a sort of calm, prophetic agony. And I know he'll die there. Sooner than he'll overturn the doctor's plans. Well, well, ma'am, said the doctor cheerfully. I am not bigoted to my plans and I can overturn them myself. I can substitute some other plans. If Mr. Jack Maldon comes home on account of ill health, he must not be allowed to go back. And we must endeavor to make him some more suitable and fortunate provision for him and this country. Mrs. Markleham was so overcome by this generous speech, which I did not say she had not at all expected or led up to. That she could only tell the doctor it was like himself and go several times through that operation of kissing the sticks of her fan and then tapping his hand with it. After which she gently chid her daughter Annie for not being more demonstrative when such kindnesses were showered for her sake on her old playfellow. And entertained us with some particulars concerning other deserving members of her family, whom it was desirable to set on their deserving legs. All this time her daughter Annie never once spoke or lifted up her eyes. All this time Mr. Wickfield had his clans upon her as she sat by his own daughter's side. It appeared to me that he never thought of being observed by anyone, but was so intent upon her and upon his own thoughts and connection with her as to be quite absorbed. He now asked what Mr. Jack Maldon had actually written in reference to himself and to whom he had written. Why here, said Mrs. Markleham, taking a letter from the chimney piece above the doctor's head. The dear fellow says to the doctor himself, where is it? Oh, I am sorry to inform you that my health is suffering severely and that I fear I may be reduced to the necessity of returning home for a time as the only hope of restoration. That's pretty plain, poor fellow, his only hope of restoration. But Annie's letter is plainer still. Annie, show me that letter again. Not now, mama, she pleaded in a low tone. My dear, you absolutely are, on some subjects, one of the most ridiculous persons in the world, returned her mother, and perhaps the most unnatural to the claims of your own family. We never should have heard of the letter at all, I believe, unless I had asked for it myself. Do you call that confidence, my love, towards Dr. Strong? I am surprised you ought to know better. The letter was reluctantly produced, and as I handed it to the old lady, I saw how the unwilling hand from which I took it trembled. Now, let us cease, said Mrs. Markleham, putting her glass to her eye where the passage is. The remembrance of old times, my dearest Annie, and so far, it's not there. The amiable old proctor, who's he? Dear me, Annie, how illegibly your cousin Malvin writes, and how stupid I am. Doctor, of course, ah, amiable indeed. Here she left off to kiss her fan again and shake it at the doctor who was looking at us in a state of placid satisfaction. Now I have found it. You may not be surprised to hear, Annie. No, to be sure, knowing that he never was really strong. What did I say just now? That I have undergone so much in this distant place as to have decided to leave it at all hazards, on sick leave, if I can, on total resignation, if that is not to be obtained. What I have endured and do endure here is insupportable. And but for the promptitude of that best of creatures, said Mrs. Markleham, telegraphing the doctor as before and refolding the letter, it would be insupportable to me to think of. Mr. Wickfield said not one word, though the old lady looked at him as if for his commentary on this intelligence, but sat severely silent with his eyes fixed on the ground. Long after the subject was dismissed and other topics occupied us, he remained so, seldom raising his eyes, unless to rest them for a moment with a thoughtful frown upon the doctor, or his wife, or both. The doctor was very fond of music. Agnes sang with great sweetness and expression and so did Mrs. Strong. They sang together and played duets together and we had quite a little concert. But I remarked two things. First, that though Annie soon recovered her composure and was quite herself, there was a blank between her and Mr. Wickfield, which separated them wholly from each other. Secondly, that Mr. Wickfield seemed to dislike the intimacy between her and Agnes and to watch it with uneasiness. And now, I must confess, the recollection of what I had seen on that night when Mr. Maldon went away first began to return upon me with the meaning it never had. And to trouble me, the innocent beauty of her face was not as innocent to me as it had been. I mistrusted the natural grace and charm of her manner. And when I looked at Agnes by her side and thought how good and true Agnes was, suspicions arose within me that it was an ill assorted friendship. She was so happy in it herself, however, and the other was so happy too, that they made the evening fly away as if it were but an hour. It closed in an incident which I well remember. They were taking leave of each other and Agnes was going to embrace her and kiss her when Mr. Wickfield stepped between them as if by accident and drew Agnes quickly away. Then I saw as though all the intervening time had been canceled and I were still standing in the doorway on the night of the departure, the expression of that night in the face of Mrs. Strong as it confronted his. I cannot say what an impression this made upon me or how impossible I found it when I thought of her afterwards to separate her from this look and remember her face and its innocent loveliness again. It haunted me when I got home. I seemed to have left the doctor's roof with a dark cloud lowering on it. The reverence that I had for his gray head was mingled with commiseration for his faith in those who were treacherous to him and with resentment against those who injured him. The impending shadow of a great affliction and a great disgrace that had no distinct form in it yet fell like a stain upon the quiet place where I had worked and played as a boy and did it a cruel wrong. I had no pleasure in thinking anymore of the grave old broadleaved aloe trees which remained shut up in themselves a hundred years together and the trim smooth grass plot and the stone urns and the doctor's walk and the congenial sound of the cathedral bell hovering above them all. It was as if the tranquil sanctuary of my boyhood had been sacked before my face and its peace and honor given to the winds. But morning brought with it my parting from the old house which Agnes had filled with her influence and that occupied my mind sufficiently. I should be there again soon no doubt. I might sleep again perhaps often in my old room but the days of my inhabiting there were gone and the old time was past. I was heavier at heart when I packed up such of my books and clothes and still remain there to be sent to Dover and I cared to show Uriah Heep who was so officious to help me that I uncharitably thought and mighty glad that I was going. I got away from Agnes and her father somehow with an indifferent show of being very manly and took my seat upon the box of the London coach. I was so softened and forgiving going through town that I had half a mind to nod to my old enemy the butcher and throw him five shillings to drink. But he looked such a very abduate butcher as he said scraping the great block in the shop and moreover his appearance was so little improved by the loss of a front tooth which I had knocked out that I thought it best to make no advances. The main object on my mind I remember when we got fairly on the road was to appear as old as possible to the coachman and to speak extremely gruff. The latter point I achieved at great personal inconvenience but I stuck to it because I felt it was a grown-up sort of thing. You were going through sir said the coachman. Yes William I said condescendingly I knew him. I'm going to London. I shall go down into Suffolk afterwards. Shooting sir said the coachman. He knew as well as I did that it was just as likely at that time of year I was going down there wailing but I felt complimented too. I don't know I said pretending to be undecided whether I shall take a shot or not. Birds has got very shy I'm told said William so I understand said I. Is Suffolk your county sir? asked William. Yes I said it was some importance Suffolk's my county. I'm told the dumplings is uncommon find down there said William. I was not aware of it myself but I felt it necessary to uphold the institutions of my county and to evince a familiarity with them so I shook my head as much to say I believe you. And the punches said William there's cattle a Suffolk punch when he's a good one is worth his weight in gold. Did you ever breed any Suffolk punches yourself sir? No I said not exactly. Here's a gentleman behind me all pounded said William as is bred him by wholesale. The gentleman spoken of was a gentleman with a very unpromising squint and a prominent chin who had a tall white hat on with a narrow flat brim and his close fitting drab trousers seemed to button all the way up outside its legs from his boots to his hips. His chin was cocked over the coachman's shoulder so near to me that his breath quite tickled the back of my head and as I looked at him he leered at the leader leaders with the eye with which he didn't squint in a very knowing manner. Ain't you asked William? Ain't I what said the gentleman behind. Bred them Suffolk punches by wholesale. I should think so said the gentleman. There ain't no sort of horse that I ain't bred and no sort of Dorg. Orses and Dorgs is some men's fancy. They're widdles and drink to me lodging wife and children reading writing and arithmetic snuff to back her and sleep. That ain't a sort of man to see sitting behind a coach box is it though said William in my ear as he handed the reins. I construed this remark into an indication of a wish that he should have my place so I blushingly offered to resign it. Well if you don't mind sir said William I think it would be more correct. I have always considered this as the first fall I had in life. When I booked my place at the coach office I had had box seat written against the entry and had given the bookkeeper half a crown. I was got up in a special great coat and shawl expressly to do honor to that distinguished eminence. Had glorified myself upon a good deal and it felt that I was a credit to the coach. And here in the very first stage I was supplanted by a shabby man with a squint who had no other merit than smelling like a livery stables and being able to walk across me more like a fly than a human being while the horses were out of cancer. A distrust of myself which has often beset me in life on small occasions when it would have been better away was assuredly not stopped in its growth by this little incident outside the Canterbury coach. It was in vain to take refuge in gruffness of speech. I spoke from the pit of my stomach for the rest of the journey but I felt completely extinguished and dreadfully young. It was curious and interesting nevertheless to be sitting up there behind four horses well educated, well dressed and with plenty of money in my pocket and to look out for the places where I had slept on my weary journey. I had abundant occupation for my thoughts and every conspicuous landmark on the road. When I looked down at the trampers with whom we passed and saw that well remembered style of face turned up I felt as if the tinkers blackened hand were in the bosom of my shirt again. When we clattered through the narrow street of Chatham and I caught a glimpse in passing of the lane where the old monster lived who had bought my jacket I stretched my neck eagerly to look for the place where I had sat in the sun and in the shade waiting for my money. When we came at last within a stage of London and passed the veritable Salem house where Mr. Creakle had laid about him with a heavy hand I would have given all I had for lawful permission to get down and thrash him and let all the boys out like so many caged sparrows. We went to the Golden Cross at Charing Cross then a moldy sort of establishment in a close neighborhood. A waiter showed me into the coffee room and a chambermaid introduced me to my small bed chamber which smelled like a hackney coach and was shut up like a family vault. I was still painfully conscious of my youth for nobody stood in any of me at all. The chambermaid being utterly indifferent to my opinions on any subject and the waiter being familiar with me and offering advice to my inexperience. Well now said the waiter in a tone of confidence what would you like for dinner? Young gentleman likes poultry in general have a fowl. I told him as majestically as I could that I wasn't in the humor for a fowl. Ain't you said the waiter? Young gentleman is generally tired of beef and mutton. Have a wheel cutlet. I ascended at this proposal in the fault of being able to suggest anything else. Do you care for tater said the waiter with an insinuating smile in his head on one side? Young gentleman generally has been overdosed with taters. I commanded him in my deepest voice to order a wheel cutlet and potatoes and all things fitting and to inquire at the bar if there were any letters for Trotwood Copperfield Esquire which I knew there were not and couldn't be but I thought it manly to appear to expect. He soon came back to say that there were none I wish I was much surprised and began to lay the cloth for my dinner in a box by the fire. While he was so engaged he asked me what I would take with it and on my replying half a pint of sherry thought it a favorable opportunity I am afraid to extract that measure of wine from the stale leavings at the bottoms of several small decanthers. I'm of this opinion because while I was reading the newspaper I observed him behind a low wooden partition which was his private apartment very busy pouring out a number of those vessels into one like a chemist and drug as making up a prescription. When the wine came too I thought it flat and it certainly had more English crumbs in it than were expected in a foreign wine in anything like a pure state but I was bashful enough to drink it and say nothing. Being then in a pleasant frame of mind from which I infer that poisoning is not always disagreeable in some stages of the process I resolved to go to the play it was Covent Garden Theater that I chose and there from the back of a center box I saw Julius Caesar and the new pantomime to have all those noble Romans alive before me and walking in and out from my entertainment instead of being the stern taskmasters they had been at school was the most novel and delightful effect but the mingled reality and mystery of the whole show the influence upon me of the poetry, the lights, the music, the company, the smooth, stupendous changes of glittering and brilliant scenery were so dazzling and opened up such illimitable regions of delight that when I came out into the rainy street at 12 o'clock at night I felt as if I had come from the clouds where I had been leading a romantic life for ages to a balling, splashing, link-lighted, umbrella-struggling, hackney-coach jostling patent-clinking, muddy, miserable world I had emerged by another door and stood in the street for a little while as if I really were a stranger upon earth but the unceremonious pushing and hustling that I received soon recalled me to myself and put me in the road back to the hotel whether I went, revolving the glorious vision all the way and where after some porter and oysters I sat revolving it still I passed one o'clock with my eyes on the coffee room fire I was so filled with the play and with the past for it was in a manner like a shining transparency through which I saw my earlier life moving along but I don't know when the figure of a handsome, well-formed young man dressed with a tasteful easy negligence which I have reason to remember very well became a real presence to me but I recollect being conscious of this company without having noticed his coming in and my still sitting musing over the coffee room fire at last I rose to go to bed much to the relief of the sleepy waiter who had got the fidgets in his legs and was twisting them and hitting them and putting them through all kinds of contortions in his small pantry and going towards the door I passed the person who had come in and saw him plainly I turned directly came back and looked again he did not know me but I knew him in a moment at another time I might have wanted the confidence or the decision to speak to him it might have put it off until next day it might have lost him but in the then condition of my mind where the play was still running high his former protection of me appeared so deserving of my gratitude and my old love for him overflowed my breath so freshly and spontaneously that I went up to him at once with a fast-beating heart and said steer forth won't you speak to me he looked at me just as he used to look sometimes but I saw no recognition in his face you don't remember me I'm afraid said I my God's knee suddenly exclaimed it's little copper field I grasped him by both hands and could not let them go but for very shame and the fear that it might displease him I could have held him around the neck and cried I never never never was so glad my dear steer forth I am so overjoyed to see you and I'm rejoiced to see you too he said shaking my hands heartily why copper field old boy don't be overpowered and yet he was glad too I thought to see how the delight I had in meeting him affected me I brushed away the tears that my utmost resolution had not been able to keep back and I made a clumsy laugh of it and we sat down together side by side why how did you come to be here said steer forth clapping me on my shoulder I came here by the canterbury coach today I've been adopted by an aunt down in that part of the country and I've just finished my education there how do you come to be here steer forth well I'm what they call an Oxford man he returned that is to say I get bored to death down there periodically and I'm on my way now to my mother's you're a devilish amiable looking fellow copper field just what you used to be now I look at you not altered in the least I knew you immediately I said but you are more easily remembered he laughed as he ran his hand through the clustering curls of his hair and said gaily yes I am on an expedition of duty my mother lives a little way out of town and the rose being in a beastly condition and our house tedious enough I remained here tonight instead of going on I've not been in town half a dozen hours and those I have been dozing and grumbling away at the play I've been at the play too said I at Covent Garden what a delightful and magnificent entertainment steer forth laughed heartily my dear young Davey said clapping me on the shoulder again you are a very daisy the daisy of the field at sunrise is not fresher than you are I've been at Covent Garden too and there never was a more miserable business hello you sir this was addressed to the waiter who had been very attentive to our recognition at a distance and now came forward deferentially where have you put my friend Mr. Copperfield said steer forth beg your pardon sir where does he sleep what's his number you know what I mean since steer forth well sir said the waiter with an apologetic air Mr. Copperfield is at present in forty four sir and what the devil do you mean retort is steer forth by putting Mr. Copperfield into a little loft over a stable why you see we wasn't aware sir returned the waiter still appall apologetically as Mr. Copperfield was anyways particular we can give Mr. Copperfield seventy two sir who would be preferred next to you sir of course would be preferred to steer forth and do it at once the waiter immediately withdrew to make the exchange steer forth very much amused in my having been put into forty four laughed again and clapped me on the shoulder again and invited me to breakfast with him next morning at ten o'clock an invitation I was only too proud and happy to accept it being now pretty late we took our candles and went upstairs where we parted with friendly heartiness at his door and where I found my new room a great improvement on my old one not being at all musty and having an immense four-post bedstead in it which was quite a little landed estate here among pillows enough for six I soon fell asleep in a blissful condition and dreamed of ancient Rome steer forth and friendship until the early morning coaches rumbling out of the archway underneath made me dream of thunder and the gods end of chapter nineteen recorded by John Austin Portland Oregon chapter twenty of David Copperfield this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org this reading by Deborah Lynn David Copperfield by Charles Dickens chapter twenty steer first home when the chamber made tapped at my door at eight o'clock and informed me that my shaving water was outside I felt severely the having no occasion for it and blushed in my bed the suspicion that she laughed too when she said it prayed upon my mind all the time I was dressing and gave me I was conscious a sneaking and guilty air when I passed her on the staircase as I was going down to breakfast I was so sensitively aware indeed of being younger than I could have wished that for some time I could not make up my mind to pass her at all under the ignoble circumstances of the case but hearing her there with a broom stood peeping out of the window at King Charles on horseback surrounded by a maze of hackney coaches and looking anything but regal and a drizzling rain and a dark brown fog until I was admonished by the waiter that the gentleman was waiting for me it was not in the coffee room that I found steer forth expecting me but in a snug private apartment red curtain and turkey carpeted where the fire burnt bright and a fine hot breakfast was set forth on a table covered with a clean cloth and a cheerful miniature of the room the fire the breakfast steer forth and all was shining in a little round mirror over the sideboard I was rather bashful at first steer forth being so self-possessed and elegant and superior to me in all respects age included but his easy patronage soon put that to rights and made me quite at home I could not enough admire the change he had wrought in the Golden Cross or compare the dull forlorn state I had held yesterday with this morning's comfort and this morning's entertainment as to the waiter's familiarity it was quenched as if it had never been he attended on us as I may say in sackcloth and ashes now Copperfield said steer forth when we were alone I should like to hear what you are doing and where you are going and all about you I feel as if you were my property glowing with pleasure to find that he had still this interest in me I told him how my aunt had proposed a little expedition that I had before me and with her attended as you are in no hurry then said steer forth come home with me to Highgate and stay a day or two you will be pleased with my mother she is a little vain and prosy about me but that you can forgive her and she will be pleased with you I should like to be as sure of that as you are kind enough to say you are I answered smiling oh said steer forth everyone who likes me has a claim on her that is sure to be acknowledged then I think I shall be a favorite said I good said steer forth come and prove it we will go and see the lions for an hour or two it's something to have a fresh fellow like you to show them to Copperfield and then we'll journey out to Highgate by the coach I could hardly believe but that I was in a dream and that I should wait presently in number forty four to the solitary box in the coffee room and the familiar waiter again after I had written to my aunt and told her of my fortunate meeting with my admired old school fellow and my acceptance of his invitation we went out in a hackney chariot and saw a panorama and some other sites and took a walk through the museum where I could not help observing how much steer forth new on an infinite variety of subjects and of how little account he seemed to make his knowledge you'll take a high degree at college steer forth said I if you have not done so already and they will have good reason to be proud of you I take a degree cried steer forth not I my dear daisy will you mind my calling you daisy not at all said I that's a good fellow my dear daisy said steer forth laughing I have not the least desire or intention to distinguish myself in that way I have done quite sufficient for my purpose I find that I am heavy company enough for myself as I am but the fame I was beginning you romantic daisy said steer forth laughing still more hardly why should I trouble myself that a parcel of heavy-headed fellows may gape and hold up their hands let them do it at some other man there's fame for him and he's welcome to it I was abashed at having made so great a mistake and was glad to change the subject fortunately it was not difficult to do for steer forth could always pass from one subject to another with a carelessness and lightness that were his own lunch succeeded to our sightseeing and the short winter day wore away so fast that it was dusk when the stagecoach stopped with us at an old brick house at Highgate on the summit of the hill an elderly lady though not very far advanced in years with a proud carriage and a handsome face was in the doorway as we alighted and greeting steer forth as my dearest James folded him in her arms to this lady he presented me as his mother and she gave me a stately welcome it was a gentile old-fashioned house very quiet and orderly from the windows of my room I saw all London lying in the distance like a great vapor with here and there some lights twinkling through it I had only time in dressing to glance at the solid furniture the framed pieces of work done I suppose by steer forth's mother when she was a girl and some pictures in crayons of ladies with powdered hair and bodices coming and going on the walls as the newly kindled fire crackled and sputtered when I was called to dinner there was a second lady in the dining room of a slight short figure dark and not agreeable to look at but with some appearance of good looks to who attracted my attention perhaps because I had not expected to see her perhaps because I found myself sitting opposite to her perhaps because of something really remarkable in her she had black hair and eager black eyes and was thin and had a scar upon her lip it was an old scar I should rather call it a seam for it was not discolored and had healed years ago which had once cut through her mouth downward towards the chin but was now barely visible across the table except above and on her upper lip the shape of which it had altered I concluded in my own mind that she was about 30 years of age and that she wished to be married she was a little dilapidated like a house with having been so long to let yet had as I have said an appearance of good looks her thinness seemed to be the effect of some wasting fire within her which found event in her gaunt eyes she was introduced as Miss Dardle and both steerforth and his mother called her Rosa I found that she lived there and had been for a long time Mrs. Steerforth's companion it appeared to me that she never said anything she wanted to say outright but hinted at it and made a great deal more of it by this practice for example when Mrs. Steerforth observed more ingest than Ernest that she feared her son led but a wild life at college Miss Dardle put in thus oh really you know how ignorant I am and that I only ask for information but isn't it always so I thought that kind of life was on all hands understood to be a it is education for a very grave profession if you mean that Rosa Mrs. Steerforth answered with some coldness oh yes that's very true returned Miss Dardle but isn't it though I want to be put right if I am wrong isn't it really really what said Mrs. Steerforth oh you mean it's not returned Miss Dardle well I'm very glad to hear it now I know what to do that's the advantage of asking I shall never allow people to talk before me about wastefulness and profligacy and so forth in connection with that life anymore and you will be right said Mrs. Steerforth my son's tutor is a conscientious gentleman and if I had not implicit reliance on my son I should have reliance on him should you said Miss Dardle dear me conscientious is he really conscientious now yes I am convinced of it said Mrs. Steerforth how very nice exclaimed Miss Dardle what a comfort really conscientious that he's not but of course he can't be if he's really conscientious well I shall be quite happy in my opinion of him from this time you can't think how it elevates him in my opinion to know for certain that he's really conscientious her own views of every question and her correction of everything that was said to which she was opposed Miss Dardle insinuated in the same way sometimes I could not conceal from myself with great power though in contradiction even of Steerforth an instance happened before dinner was done Mrs. Steerforth speaking to me about my intention of going down into Suffolk I said at hazard how glad I should be if Steerforth would only go there with me and explaining to him that I was going to see my old nurse and Mr. Pagedy's family I reminded him of the boatman whom he had seen at school oh that bluff fellow said Steerforth he had a son with him hadn't he no that was his nephew I replied whom he adopted though as a son he has a very pretty little niece too whom he adopted as a daughter in short his house or rather his boat for he lives in one on dry land is full of people who are objects of his generosity and kindness you would be delighted to see that household should I said Steerforth well I think I should I must see what can be done it would be worth a journey not to mention the pleasure of a journey with you Daisy to see that sort of people together and to make one of them my heart leaped with a new hope of pleasure but it was in reference to the tone in which he had spoken of that sort of people that Miss Dardle whose sparkling eyes had been watchful of us now broke in again oh but really do tell me are they though she said are they what and are who what said Steerforth that sort of people are they really animals and clouds and beings of another order I want to know so much why there's a pretty wide separation between them and us said Steerforth with indifference they're not to be expected to be as sensitive as we are their delicacy is not to be shocked or hurt easily they're wonderfully virtuous I dare say some people contend for that at least and I am sure I don't want to contradict them but they have not very fine natures and they may be thankful that like their coarse rough skins they are not easily wounded really said Miss Dardle well I don't know now when I have been better pleased than to hear that it's so consoling it's such a delight to know that when they suffer they don't feel sometimes I have been quite uneasy for that sort of people but now I shall just dismiss the idea of them altogether live and learn I had my doubts I confess but now they're cleared up I didn't know and now I do know and that shows the advantage of asking don't it I believed that Steerforth had said what he had in jest or to draw Miss Dardle out and I expected him to say as much when she was gone and we two were sitting before the fire but he merely asked me what I thought of her she is very clever is she not I asked clever she brings everything to a grindstone said Steerforth and sharpens it as she has sharpened her own face and figure these years past she has worn herself away by constant sharpening she is all edge what a remarkable scar that is upon her lip I said Steerforth's face fell and he paused a moment why the fact is he returned I did that by an unfortunate accident no I was a young boy and she exasperated me and I threw a hammer at her a promising young angel I must have been I was deeply sorry to have touched on such a painful theme but that was useless now she has borne the mark ever since as you see said Steerforth and she'll bear it to her grave if she ever rests in one though I can hardly believe she will ever rest anywhere she was the motherless child of a sort of cousin of my father's he died one day my mother who was then a widow brought her here to be company to her she has a couple of thousand pounds of her own and saves the interest of it every year to add to the principal there's the history of Miss Rosa Dardle for you and I have no doubt she loves you like a brother said I retorted Steerforth looking at the fire some brothers are not loved over much and some love but help yourself Copperfield will drink the daisies of the field and compliment to you and the lilies of the valley that toil not neither do they spin in compliment to me the more shame for me a moody smile that had overspread his features cleared off as he said this merrily and he was his own Frank winning self again I could not help glancing at the scar with a painful interest when we went into tea it was not long before I observed that it was the most susceptible part of her face and that when she turned pale that mark altered first and became a dull lead colored streak lengthening out to its full extent like a mark in invisible ink brought to the fire there was a little altercation between her and Steerforth about a cast of the dice at that gammon when I thought her for one moment in a storm of rage and then I saw it start forth like the old writing on the wall it was no matter of wonder to me to find Mrs. Steerforth devoted to her son she seemed to be able to speak or think about nothing else she showed me his picture as an infant in a locket with some of his baby hair in it she showed me his picture as he had been when I first knew him and she wore at her breast his picture as he was now all the letters he had ever written to her she kept in a cabinet near her own chair by the fire and she would have read me some of them and I should have been very glad to hear them to if he had not interposed and coaxed her out of the design it was that Mr. Creakles my son tells me that you first became acquainted said Mrs. Steerforth as she and I were talking at one table while they played backgammon at another indeed I recollect his speaking at that time of a pupil younger than himself who had taken his fancy there but your name as you may suppose has not lived in my memory he was very generous and noble to me in those days I assure you ma'am said I and I stood in need of such a friend I should have been quite crushed without him he is always generous and noble said Mrs. Steerforth proudly I subscribe to this with all my heart God knows she knew I did for the statelyness of her manner already abated towards me except when she spoke in praise of him and then her air was always lofty it was not a fit school generally for my son said she far from it but there were particular circumstances to be considered at the time of more importance even than that selection my son's high spirit made it desirable that he should be placed with some man who felt its superiority and would be content to bow himself before it and we found such a man there I knew that knowing the fellow and yet I did not despise him the more for it but thought at a redeeming quality in him if he could be allowed any grace for not resisting one so irresistible as Steerforth my son's great capacity was tempted on there by a feeling of voluntary emulation and conscious pride the fond lady went on to say he would have risen against all constraint but he found himself the monarch of the place and he haughtily determined to be worthy of his station it was like himself I echoed with all my heart and soul that it was like himself so my son took of his own will and on no compulsion to the course in which he can always when it is his pleasure outstrip every competitor she pursued my son informs me Mr. Copperfield that you were quite devoted to him and that when you met yesterday you made yourself known to him with tears of joy I should be an affected woman if I made any pretense of being surprised by my son's inspiring such emotions but I cannot be indifferent to anyone who is so sensible of his merit and I am very glad to see you here and can assure you that he feels an unusual friendship for you and that you may rely on his protection. Miss Dardle played backgammon as eagerly as she did everything else if I had seen her first at the board I should have fancy that her figure had got thin and her eyes had got large over that pursuit and no other in the world but I am very much mistaken if she missed a word of this or lost a look of mine as I received it with the utmost pleasure and honored by Mrs. Steerforth's confidence felt older than I had done since I left Canterbury when the evening was pretty far spent and a tray of glasses and decanters came in Steerforth promised over the fire that he would seriously think of going down into the country with me there was no hurry he said a week hence would do and his mother hospitably said the same while we were talking he more than once called me Daisy which brought Miss Dardle out again but really Mr. Copperfield she asked is it a nickname and why does he give it to you is it a because he thinks you young and innocent I am so stupid in these things I colored in replying that I believed it was oh said Miss Dardle now I am glad to know that I ask for information and I am glad to know it he thinks you young and innocent and so you are his friend well that's quite delightful she went to bed soon after this and Mrs. Steerforth retired to Steerforth and I after lingering for half an hour over the fire talking about rattles and all the rest of them at Old Salem House went upstairs together Steerforth's room was next to mine and I went in to look at it it was a picture of comfort full of easy chairs cushions and footstools worked by his mother's hand and was no sort of thing omitted that could help to render it complete finally her handsome features look down on her darling from a portrait on the wall as if it were even something to her that her lightness should watch him while he slept I found the fire burning clear enough in my room by this time and the curtains drawn before the windows and round the bed giving it a very snug appearance I sat down in a great chair upon the hearth to meditate on my happiness and had enjoyed the contemplation of it for some time when I found a lightness of Miss Dirtle looking eagerly at me from above the chimney piece it was a startling lightness and necessarily had a startling look the painter hadn't made the scar but I made it and there it was coming and going now confined to the upper lip as I had seen it at dinner and now showing the whole extent of the wound inflicted by the hammer as I had seen it when she was passionate I wondered peevishly why they couldn't put her anywhere else instead of quartering her on me to get rid of her I undressed quickly extinguished my light and went to bed but as I fell asleep I could not forget that she was still there looking is it really though I want to know and when I awoke in the night I found that I was uneasily asking all sorts of people in my dreams whether it really was or not without knowing what I meant end of chapter 20