I CORROBORATE MR. DICK, AND CHOOSE A PROFESSION.
When I awoke in the morning I thought very much of little Em'ly, and her
emotion last night, after Martha had left. I felt as if I had come into
the knowledge of those domestic weaknesses and tendernesses in a sacred
confidence, and that to disclose them, even to Steerforth, would be
wrong. I had no gentler feeling towards any one than towards the pretty
creature who had been my playmate, and whom I have always been
persuaded, and shall always be persuaded, to my dying day, I then
devotedly loved. The repetition to any ears--even to Steerforth's--of
what she had been unable to repress when her heart lay open to me by an
accident, I felt would be a rough deed, unworthy of myself, unworthy of
the light of our pure childhood, which I always saw encircling her head.
I made a resolution, therefore, to keep it in my own breast; and there
it gave her image a new grace.
While we were at breakfast, a letter was delivered to me from my aunt.
As it contained matter on which I thought Steerforth could advise me as
well as any one, and on which I knew I should be delighted to consult
him, I resolved to make it a subject of discussion on our journey home.
For the present we had enough to do, in taking leave of all our friends.
Mr. Barkis was far from being the last among them, in his regret at our
departure; and I believe would even have opened the box again, and
sacrificed another guinea, if it would have kept us eight-and-forty
hours in Yarmouth. Peggotty, and all her family, were full of grief at
our going. The whole house of Omer and Joram turned out to bid us good
bye; and there were so many seafaring volunteers in attendance on
Steerforth, when our portmanteaus went to the coach, that if we had had
the baggage of a regiment with us, we should hardly have wanted porters
to carry it. In a word, we departed to the regret and admiration of all
concerned, and left a great many people very sorry behind us.
"Do you stay long here, Littimer?" said I, as he stood waiting to see
the coach start.
"No, sir," he replied; "probably not very long, sir."
"He can hardly say just now," observed Steerforth, carelessly. "He knows
what he has to do, and he'll do it."
"That I am sure he will," said I.
Littimer touched his hat in acknowledgment of my good opinion, and I
felt about eight years old. He touched it once more, wishing us a good
journey; and we left him standing on the pavement, as respectable a
mystery as any pyramid in Egypt.
For some little time we held no conversation, Steerforth being unusually
silent, and I being sufficiently engaged in wondering, within myself,
when I should see the old places again, and what new changes might
happen to me or them in the meanwhile. At length Steerforth, becoming
gay and talkative in a moment, as he could become anything he liked at
any moment, pulled me by the arm:
"Find a voice, David. What about the letter you were speaking of at
breakfast?"
"Oh!" said I, taking it out of my pocket. "It's from my aunt."
"And what does she say, requiring consideration!"
"Why, she reminds me, Steerforth," said I, "that I came out on this
expedition to look about me, and to think a little."
"Which, of course, you have done?"
"Indeed I can't say I have, particularly. To tell you the truth, I am
afraid I had forgotten it."
"Well! look about you now, and make up for your negligence," said
Steerforth. "Look to the right, and you'll see a flat country, with a
good deal of marsh in it; look to the left, and you'll see the same.
Look to the front, and you'll find no difference; look to the rear, and
there it is still."
I laughed, and replied that I saw no suitable profession in the whole
prospect; which was perhaps to be attributed to its flatness.
"What says our aunt on the subject?" inquired Steerforth, glancing at
the letter in my hand. "Does she suggest anything?"
"Why, yes," said I. "She asks me, here, if I think I should like to be a
proctor? What do you think of it?"
"Well, I don't know," replied Steerforth, coolly. "You may as well do
that as anything else, I suppose."
I could not help laughing again, at his balancing all callings and
professions so equally; and I told him so.
"What _is_ a proctor, Steerforth?" said I.
"Why, he is a sort of monkish attorney," replied Steerforth. "He is,
to some faded courts held in Doctors' Commons--a lazy old nook near
St. Paul's Churchyard--what solicitors are to the courts of law and
equity. He is a functionary whose existence, in the natural course of
things, would have terminated about two hundred years ago. I can tell
you best what he is, by telling you what Doctors' Commons is. It's
a little out-of-the-way place, where they administer what is called
ecclesiastical law, and play all kinds of tricks with obsolete old
monsters of acts of Parliament, which three-fourths of the world know
nothing about, and the other fourth supposes to have been dug up, in
a fossil state, in the days of the Edwards. It's a place that has an
ancient monopoly in suits about people's wills and people's marriages,
and disputes among ships and boats."
"Nonsense, Steerforth!" I exclaimed. "You don't mean to say that there
is any affinity between nautical matters and ecclesiastical matters?"
"I don't, indeed, my dear boy," he returned; "but I mean to say that
they are managed and decided by the same set of people, down in that
same Doctors' Commons. You shall go there one day, and find them
blundering through half the nautical terms in Young's Dictionary,
apropos of the 'Nancy' having run down the 'Sarah Jane,' or Mr. Peggotty
and the Yarmouth boatmen having put off in a gale of wind with an anchor
and cable to the 'Nelson' Indiaman in distress; and you shall go there
another day, and find them deep in the evidence, pro and con, respecting
a clergyman who has misbehaved himself; and you shall find the judge in
the nautical case, the advocate in the clergyman case, or contrariwise.
They are like actors: now a man's a judge, and now he is not a judge;
now he's one thing, now he's another; now he's something else, change
and change about; but it's always a very pleasant profitable little
affair of private theatricals, presented to an uncommonly select
audience."
"But advocates and proctors are not one and the same?" said I, a little
puzzled. "Are they?"
"No," returned Steerforth, "the advocates are civilians--men who have
taken a doctor's degree at college--which is the first reason of my
knowing anything about it. The proctors employ the advocates. Both get
very comfortable fees, and altogether they make a mighty snug little
party. On the whole, I would recommend you to take to Doctors' Commons
kindly, David. They plume themselves on their gentility there, I can
tell you, if that's any satisfaction."
I made allowance for Steerforth's light way of treating the subject,
and, considering it with reference to the staid air of gravity and
antiquity which I associated with that "lazy old nook near St. Paul's
Churchyard," did not feel indisposed towards my aunt's suggestion; which
she left to my free decision, making no scruple of telling me that it
had occurred to her, on her lately visiting her own proctor in Doctors'
Commons for the purpose of settling her will in my favor.
"That's a laudable proceeding on the part of our aunt, at all events,"
said Steerforth, when I mentioned it; "and one deserving of all
encouragement. Daisy, my advice is that you take kindly to Doctors'
Commons."
I quite made up my mind to do so. I then told Steerforth that my aunt
was in town awaiting me (as I found from her letter), and that she had
taken lodgings for a week at a kind of private hotel in Lincoln's Inn
Fields, where there was a stone staircase, and a convenient door in the
roof; my aunt being firmly persuaded that every house in London was
going to be burnt down every night.
We achieved the rest of our journey pleasantly, sometimes recurring to
Doctors' Commons, and anticipating the distant days when I should be a
proctor there, which Steerforth pictured in a variety of humorous and
whimsical lights, that made us both merry. When we came to our journey's
end, he went home, engaging to call upon me next day but one; and I
drove to Lincoln's Inn Fields, where I found my aunt up, and waiting
supper.
If I had been round the world since we parted, we could hardly have been
better pleased to meet again. My aunt cried outright as she embraced me;
and said, pretending to laugh, that if my poor mother had been alive,
that silly little creature would have shed tears, she had no doubt.
"So you have left Mr. Dick behind, aunt?" said I. "I am sorry for that.
Ah, Janet, how do you do?"
As Janet curtsied, hoping I was well, I observed my aunt's visage
lengthen very much.
"I am sorry for it, too," said my aunt, rubbing her nose. "I have had no
peace of mind, Trot, since I have been here."
Before I could ask why, she told me.
"I am convinced," said my aunt; laying her hand with melancholy firmness
on the table, "that Dick's character is not a character to keep the
donkies off. I am confident he wants strength of purpose. I ought to
have left Janet at home, instead, and then my mind might perhaps have
been at ease. If ever there was a donkey trespassing on my green," said
my aunt, with emphasis, "there was one this afternoon at four o'clock. A
cold feeling came over me from head to foot, and I _know_ it was a
donkey!"
I tried to comfort her on this point, but she rejected consolation.
"It was a donkey," said my aunt; "and it was the one with the stumpy
tail which that Murdering sister of a woman rode, when she came to my
house." This had been, ever since, the only name my aunt knew for Miss
Murdstone. "If there is any donkey in Dover, whose audacity it is harder
to me to bear than another's, that," said my aunt, striking the table,
"is the animal!"
Janet ventured to suggest that my aunt might be disturbing herself
unnecessarily, and that she believed the donkey in question was then
engaged in the sand and gravel line of business, and was not available
for purposes of trespass. But my aunt wouldn't hear of it.
Supper was comfortably served and hot, though my aunt's rooms were very
high up--whether that she might have more stone stairs for her money, or
might be nearer to the door in the roof, I don't know--and consisted of
a roast fowl, a steak, and some vegetables, to all of which I did ample
justice, and which were all excellent. But my aunt had her own ideas
concerning London provision, and ate but little.
"I suppose this unfortunate fowl was born and brought up in a cellar,"
said my aunt, "and never took the air except on a hackney coach-stand. I
_hope_ the steak may be beef, but I don't believe it. Nothing's genuine
in the place, in my opinion, but the dirt."
"Don't you think the fowl may have come out of the country, aunt?" I
hinted.
"Certainly not," returned my aunt. "It would be no pleasure to a London
tradesman to sell anything which was what he pretended it was."
I did not venture to controvert this opinion, but I made a good supper,
which it greatly satisfied her to see me do. When the table was cleared,
Janet assisted her to arrange her hair, to put on her nightcap, which
was of a smarter construction than usual ("in case of fire," my aunt
said), and to fold her gown back over her knees, these being her usual
preparations for warming herself before going to bed. I then made her,
according to certain established regulations from which no deviation,
however slight, could ever be permitted, a glass of hot white wine and
water, and a slice of toast cut into long thin strips. With these
accompaniments we were left alone to finish the evening, my aunt sitting
opposite to me drinking her wine and water; soaking her strips of toast
in it, one by one, before eating them; and looking benignantly on me,
from among the borders of her nightcap.
"Well, Trot," she began, "what do you think of the proctor plan? Or have
you not begun to think about it yet?"
"I have thought a good deal about it, my dear aunt, and I have talked a
good deal about it with Steerforth. I like it very much indeed. I like
it exceedingly."
"Come!" said my aunt. "That's cheering!"
"I have only one difficulty, aunt."
"Say what it is, Trot," she returned.
"Why, I want to ask, aunt, as this seems, from what I understand, to be
a limited profession, whether my entrance into it would not be very
expensive?"
"It will cost," returned my aunt, "to article you, just a thousand
pounds."
"Now, my dear aunt," said I, drawing my chair nearer, "I am uneasy in my
mind about that. It's a large sum of money. You have expended a great
deal on my education, and have always been as liberal to me in all
things, as it was possible to be. You have been the soul of generosity.
Surely there are some ways in which I might begin life with hardly any
outlay, and yet begin with a good hope of getting on by resolution and
exertion. Are you sure that it would not be better to try that course?
Are you certain that you can afford to part with so much money, and that
it is right it should be so expended? I only ask you, my second mother,
to consider. Are you certain?"
My aunt finished eating the piece of toast on which she was then
engaged, looking me full in the face all the while; and then setting her
glass on the chimney-piece, and folding her hands upon her folded
skirts, replied as follows:
"Trot, my child, if I have any object in life, it is to provide for your
being a good, a sensible, and a happy man. I am bent upon it--so is
Dick. I should like some people that I know to hear Dick's conversation
on the subject. Its sagacity is wonderful. But no one knows the
resources of that man's intellect, except myself!"
She stopped for a moment to take my hand between hers, and went on:
"It's in vain, Trot, to recall the past, unless it works some influence
upon the present. Perhaps I might have been better friends with your
poor father. Perhaps I might have been better friends with that poor
child your mother, even after your sister Betsey Trotwood disappointed
me. When you came to me, a little runaway boy, all dusty and wayworn,
perhaps I thought so. From that time until now, Trot, you have ever been
a credit to me and a pride and pleasure. I have no other claim upon my
means; at least"--here to my surprise she hesitated, and was
confused--"no, I have _no_ other claim upon my means--and you are my
adopted child. Only be a loving child to me in my age, and bear with my
whims and fancies; and you will do more for an old woman whose prime of
life was not so happy or conciliating as it might have been, than ever
that old woman did for you."
It was the first time I had heard my aunt refer to her past history.
There was a magnanimity in her quiet way of doing so, and of dismissing
it, which would have exalted her in my respect and affection, if any
thing could.
"All is agreed and understood between us now, Trot," said my aunt, "and
we need talk of this no more. Give me a kiss, and we'll go to the
Commons after breakfast to-morrow."
We had a long chat by the fire before we went to bed. I slept in a room
on the same floor with my aunt's, and was a little disturbed in the
course of the night by her knocking at my door, as often as she was
agitated by a distant sound of hackney-coaches or market-carts, and
inquiring "if I heard the engines?" But towards morning she slept
better, and suffered me to do so too.
At about mid-day, we set out for the offices of Messrs. Spenlow and
Jorkins in Doctors' Commons. My aunt, who had this other general opinion
in reference to London, that every man she saw was a pickpocket, gave me
her purse to carry for her, which had ten guineas in it and some silver.
We made a pause at the toy-shop in Fleet-street, to see the giants of
Saint Dunstan's strike upon the bells--we had timed our going, so as to
catch them at it, at twelve o'clock--and then went on towards Ludgate
Hill, and St. Paul's Churchyard. We were crossing to the former place,
when I found that my aunt greatly accelerated her speed, and looked
frightened. I observed, at the same time, that a lowering ill-dressed
man who had stopped and stared at us in passing, a little before, was
coming so close after us, as to brush against her.
"Trot! My dear Trot!" cried my aunt, in a terrified whisper, and
pressing my arm. "I don't know what I am to do."
"Don't be alarmed," said I. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Step into
a shop, and I'll soon get rid of this fellow."
"No, no, child!" she returned. "Don't speak to him for the world. I
entreat, I order you!"
"Good Heaven, aunt!" said I. "He is nothing but a sturdy beggar."
"You don't know what he is!" replied my aunt. "You don't know who he is!
You don't know what you say!"
We had stopped in an empty doorway, while this was passing, and he had
stopped too.
"Don't look at him!" said my aunt, as I turned my head indignantly, "but
get me a coach, my dear, and wait for me in St. Paul's Churchyard."
"Wait for you?" I repeated.
"Yes," rejoined my aunt, "I must go alone. I must go with him."
"With him, aunt? This man?"
"I am in my senses," she replied, "and I tell you I _must_. Get me a
coach!"
However much astonished I might be, I was sensible that I had no right
to refuse compliance with such a peremptory command. I hurried away a
few paces, and called a hackney chariot which was passing empty. Almost
before I could let down the steps, my aunt sprang in, I don't know how,
and the man followed. She waved her hand to me to go away, so earnestly,
that, all confounded as I was, I turned from them at once. In doing so I
heard her say to the coachman, "Drive anywhere! Drive straight on!" and
presently the chariot passed me, going up the hill.
What Mr. Dick had told me, and what I had supposed to be a delusion of
his, now came into my mind. I could not doubt that this person was the
person of whom he had made such mysterious mention, though what the
nature of his hold upon my aunt could possibly be, I was quite unable to
imagine. After half an hour's cooling in the churchyard, I saw the
chariot coming back. The driver stopped beside me, and my aunt was
sitting in it alone.
She had not yet sufficiently recovered from her agitation to be quite
prepared for the visit we had to make. She desired me to get into the
chariot, and to tell the coachman to drive slowly up and down a little
while. She said no more, except, "My dear child, never ask me what it
was, and don't refer to it," until she had perfectly regained her
composure, when she told me she was quite herself now, and we might get
out. On her giving me her purse, to pay the driver, I found that all the
guineas were gone, and only the loose silver remained.
Doctors' Commons was approached by a little low archway. Before we had
taken many paces down the street beyond it, the noise of the city seemed
to melt, as if by magic, into a softened distance. A few dull courts,
and narrow ways, brought us to the sky-lighted offices of Spenlow and
Jorkins; in the vestibule of which temple, accessible to pilgrims
without the ceremony of knocking, three or four clerks were at work as
copyists. One of these, a little dry man, sitting by himself, who wore a
stiff brown wig that looked as if it were made of gingerbread, rose to
receive my aunt, and show us into Mr. Spenlow's room.
"Mr. Spenlow's in Court, ma'am," said the dry man; "it's an Arches day;
but it's close by, and I'll send for him directly."
As we were left to look about us while Mr. Spenlow was fetched, I
availed myself of the opportunity. The furniture of the room was
old-fashioned and dusty; and the green baize on the top of the
writing-table had lost all its color, and was as withered and pale as
an old pauper. There were a great many bundles of papers on it, some
indorsed as Allegations, and some (to my surprise) as Libels, and
some as being in the Consistory Court, and some in the Arches Court,
and some in the Prerogative Court, and some in the Admiralty Court,
and some in the Delegates' Court; giving me occasion to wonder much,
how many Courts there might be in the gross, and how long it would
take to understand them all. Besides these, there were sundry immense
manuscript Books of Evidence taken on affidavit, strongly bound, and
tied together in massive sets, a set to each cause, as if every cause
were a history in ten or twenty volumes. All this looked tolerably
expensive, I thought, and gave me an agreeable notion of a proctor's
business. I was casting my eyes with increasing complacency over these
and many similar objects, when hasty footsteps were heard in the room
outside, and Mr. Spenlow, in a black gown trimmed with white fur, came
hurrying in, taking off his hat as he came.
He was a little light-haired gentleman, with undeniable boots, and the
stiffest of white cravats and shirt-collars. He was buttoned up, mighty
trim and tight, and must have taken a great deal of pains with his
whiskers, which were accurately curled. His gold watch-chain was so
massive, that a fancy came across me, that he ought to have a sinewy
golden arm, to draw it out with, like those which are put up over the
gold-beaters' shops. He was got up with such care, and was so stiff,
that he could hardly bend himself; being obliged, when he glanced at
some papers on his desk, after sitting down in his chair, to move his
whole body, from the bottom of his spine, like Punch.
I had previously been presented by my aunt, and had been courteously
received. He now said:
"And so, Mr. Copperfield, you think of entering into our profession?
I casually mentioned to Miss Trotwood, when I had the pleasure of an
interview with her the other day,"--with another inclination of his
body--Punch again--"that there was a vacancy here. Miss Trotwood was
good enough to mention that she had a nephew who was her peculiar care,
and for whom she was seeking to provide genteelly in life. That nephew,
I believe, I have now the pleasure of"--Punch again.
I bowed my acknowledgments, and said, my aunt had mentioned to me that
there was that opening, and that I believed I should like it very much.
That I was strongly inclined to like it, and had taken immediately to
the proposal. That I could not absolutely pledge myself to like it,
until I knew something more about it. That although it was little else
than a matter of form, I presumed I should have an opportunity of trying
how I liked it, before I bound myself to it irrevocably.
"Oh surely! surely!" said Mr. Spenlow. "We always, in this house,
propose a month--an initiatory month. I should be happy, myself, to
propose two months--three--an indefinite period, in fact--but I have a
partner. Mr. Jorkins."
"And the premium, sir," I returned, "is a thousand pounds?"
"And the premium, Stamp included, is a thousand pounds," said Mr.
Spenlow. "As I have mentioned to Miss Trotwood, I am actuated by no
mercenary considerations; few men are less so, I believe; but Mr.
Jorkins has his opinions on these subjects, and I am bound to respect
Mr. Jorkins's opinions. Mr. Jorkins thinks a thousand pounds too little,
in short."
"I suppose, sir," said I, still desiring to spare my aunt, "that it is
not the custom here, if an articled clerk were particularly useful, and
made himself a perfect master of his profession--" I could not help
blushing, this looked so like praising myself--"I suppose it is not the
custom, in the later years of his time, to allow him any--"
Mr. Spenlow, by a great effort, just lifted his head far enough out of
his cravat to shake it, and answered, anticipating the word "salary:"
"No. I will not say what consideration I might give to that point
myself, Mr. Copperfield, if I were unfettered. Mr. Jorkins is
immovable."
I was quite dismayed by the idea of this terrible Jorkins. But I found
out afterwards that he was a mild man, of a heavy temperament, whose
place in the business was to keep himself in the back-ground, and be
constantly exhibited by name as the most obdurate and ruthless of men.
If a clerk wanted his salary raised, Mr. Jorkins wouldn't listen to such
a proposition. If a client were slow to settle his bill of costs, Mr.
Jorkins was resolved to have it paid; and however painful these things
might be (and always were) to the feelings of Mr. Spenlow, Mr. Jorkins
would have his bond. The heart and hand of the good angel Spenlow would
have been always open, but for the restraining demon Jorkins. As I have
grown older, I think I have had experience of some other houses doing
business on the principle of Spenlow and Jorkins!
It was settled that I should begin my month's probation as soon as I
pleased, and that my aunt need neither remain in town nor return at its
expiration, as the articles of agreement, of which I was to be the
subject, could easily be sent to her at home for her signature. When we
had got so far, Mr. Spenlow offered to take me into Court then and
there, and show me what sort of place it was. As I was willing enough to
know, we went out with this object, leaving my aunt behind; who would
trust herself, she said, in no such place, and who, I think, regarded
all Courts of Law as a sort of powder-mills that might blow up at any
time.
Mr. Spenlow conducted me through a paved courtyard formed of grave
brick houses, which I inferred, from the Doctors' names upon the
doors, to be the official abiding-places of the learned advocates of
whom Steerforth had told me; and into a large dull room, not unlike
a chapel to my thinking, on the left hand. The upper part of this
room was fenced off from the rest; and there, on the two sides of a
raised platform of the horse-shoe form, sitting on easy old-fashioned
dining-room chairs, were sundry gentlemen in red gowns and grey wigs,
whom I found to be the Doctors aforesaid. Blinking over a little
desk like a pulpit-desk, in the curve of the horse-shoe, was an old
gentleman, whom, if I had seen him in an aviary, I should certainly
have taken for an owl, but who I learned was the presiding judge. In
the space within the horse-shoe, lower than these, that is to say,
on about the level of the floor, were sundry other gentlemen, of Mr.
Spenlow's rank, and dressed like him in black gowns with white fur upon
them, sitting at a long green table. Their cravats were in general
stiff, I thought, and their looks haughty; but in this last respect I
presently conceived I had done them an injustice, for when two or three
of them had to rise and answer a question of the presiding dignitary,
I never saw anything more sheepish. The public, represented by a boy
with a comforter, and a shabby-genteel man secretly eating crumbs out
of his coat pockets, was warming itself at a stove in the centre of
the Court. The languid stillness of the place was only broken by the
chirping of this fire and by the voice of one of the Doctors, who was
wandering slowly through a perfect library of evidence, and stopping to
put up, from time to time, at little roadside inns of argument on the
journey. Altogether, I have never, on any occasion, made one at such
a cosey, dosey, old-fashioned, time-forgotten, sleepy-headed little
family-party in all my life; and I felt it would be quite a soothing
opiate to belong to it in any character--except perhaps as a suitor.
Very well satisfied with the dreamy nature of this retreat, I informed
Mr. Spenlow that I had seen enough for that time, and we rejoined my
aunt; in company with whom I presently departed from the Commons,
feeling very young when I went out of Spenlow and Jorkins's, on account
of the clerks poking one another with their pens to point me out.
We arrived at Lincoln's Inn Fields without any new adventures, except
encountering an unlucky donkey in a costermonger's cart, who suggested
painful associations to my aunt. We had another long talk about my
plans, when we were safely housed; and as I knew she was anxious to get
home, and, between fire, food, and pickpockets, could never be
considered at her ease for half-an-hour in London, I urged her not to be
uncomfortable on my account, but to leave me to take care of myself.
"I have not been here a week to-morrow, without considering that too, my
dear," she returned. "There is a furnished little set of chambers to be
let in the Adelphi, Trot, which ought to suit you to a marvel."
With this brief introduction, she produced from her pocket an
advertisement, carefully cut out of a newspaper, setting forth that in
Buckingham Street in the Adelphi there was to be let, furnished, with a
view of the river, a singularly desirable, and compact set of chambers,
forming a genteel residence for a young gentleman, a member of one of
the Inns of Court, or otherwise, with immediate possession. Terms
moderate, and could be taken for a month only if required.
"Why, this is the very thing, aunt!" said I, flushed with the possible
dignity of living in chambers.
"Then come," replied my aunt, immediately resuming the bonnet she had a
minute before laid aside. "We'll go and look at 'em."
Away we went. The advertisement directed us to apply to Mrs. Crupp on
the premises, and we rung the area bell, which we supposed to
communicate with Mrs. Crupp. It was not until we had rung three or four
times that we could prevail on Mrs. Crupp to communicate with us, but at
last she appeared, being a stout lady with a flounce of flannel
petticoat below a nankeen gown.
"Let us see these chambers of yours, if you please, ma'am," said my
aunt.
"For this gentleman?" said Mrs. Crupp, feeling in her pocket for her
keys.
"Yes, for my nephew," said my aunt.
"And a sweet set they is for sich!" said Mrs. Crupp.
So we went up-stairs.
They were on the top of the house--a great point with my aunt, being
near the fire-escape--and consisted of a little half-blind entry where
you could see hardly anything, a little stone-blind pantry where you
could see nothing at all, a sitting-room, and a bed-room. The furniture
was rather faded, but quite good enough for me; and, sure enough, the
river was outside the windows.
As I was delighted with the place, my aunt and Mrs. Crupp withdrew into
the pantry to discuss the terms, while I remained on the sitting-room
sofa, hardly daring to think it possible that I could be destined to
live in such a noble residence. After a single combat of some duration
they returned, and I saw, to my joy, both in Mrs. Crupp's countenance
and in my aunt's, that the deed was done.
"Is it the last occupant's furniture?" inquired my aunt.
"Yes it is, ma'am," said Mrs. Crupp.
"What's become of him?" asked my aunt.
Mrs. Crupp was taken with a troublesome cough, in the midst of which
she articulated with much difficulty. "He was took ill here, ma'am,
and--ugh! ugh! ugh! dear me!--and he died."
"Hey! What did he die of?" asked my aunt.
"Well, ma'am, he died of drink," said Mrs. Crupp in confidence. "And
smoke."
"Smoke? You don't mean chimneys?" said my aunt.
"No, ma'am," returned Mrs. Crupp. "Cigars and pipes."
"_That's_ not catching, Trot, at any rate," remarked my aunt, turning to
me.
"No, indeed," said I.
In short, my aunt, seeing how enraptured I was with the premises, took
them for a month, with leave to remain for twelve months when that time
was out. Mrs. Crupp was to find linen, and to cook; every other
necessary was already provided; and Mrs. Crupp expressly intimated that
she should always yearn towards me as a son. I was to take possession
the day after to-morrow, and Mrs. Crupp said thank Heaven she had now
found summun she could care for!
On our way back, my aunt informed me how she confidently trusted that
the life I was now to lead would make me firm and self-reliant, which
was all I wanted. She repeated this several times next day, in the
intervals of our arranging for the transmission of my clothes and books
from Mr. Wickfield's; relative to which, and to all my late holiday, I
wrote a long letter to Agnes, of which my aunt took charge, as she was
to leave on the succeeding day. Not to lengthen these particulars, I
need only add, that she made a handsome provision for all my possible
wants during my month of trial; that Steerforth, to my great
disappointment and hers too, did not make his appearance before she went
away; that I saw her safely seated in the Dover coach, exulting in the
coming discomfiture of the vagrant donkeys, with Janet at her side; and
that when the coach was gone, I turned my face to the Adelphi, pondering
on the old days when I used to roam about its subterranean arches, and
on the happy changes which had brought me to the surface.