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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 anyone 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 anyone, 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
portmanteaux 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 acknowledgement 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 that 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 have 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's 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 them- selves
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 favour.
'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
at 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 donkeys 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 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 that 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 way-worn, perhaps I thought so. From that time
until now, Trot, you have ever been a credit to me and a pride and
a 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
anything 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 tomorrow.'
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 office 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 door-way, 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 replied.
'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
mea 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 colour, and was as withered and pale as an old
pauper. There were a great many bundles of papers on it, some endorsed
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 goldbeaters' 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 acknowledgements, 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 background,
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 tomorrow, 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 upstairs.
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
bedroom. 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 tomorrow, 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.
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