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DORA'S AUNTS
At last, an answer came from the two old ladies. They presented
their compliments to Mr. Copperfield, and informed him that they
had given his letter their best consideration, 'with a view to the
happiness of both parties' - which I thought rather an alarming
expression, not only because of the use they had made of it in relation
to the family difference before-mentioned, but because I had (and
have all my life) observed that conventional phrases are a sort
of fireworks, easily let off, and liable to take a great variety
of shapes and colours not at all suggested by their original form.
The Misses Spenlow added that they begged to forbear expressing,
'through the medium of correspondence', an opinion on the subject
of Mr. Copperfield's communication; but that if Mr. Copperfield
would do them the favour to call, upon a certain day (accompanied,
if he thought proper, by a confidential friend), they would be happy
to hold some conversation on the subject.
To this favour, Mr. Copperfield immediately replied, with his
respectful compliments, that he would have the honour of waiting
on the Misses Spenlow, at the time appointed; accompanied, in accordance
with their kind permission, by his friend Mr. Thomas Traddles of
the Inner Temple. Having dispatched which missive, Mr. Copperfield
fell into a condition of strong nervous agitation; and so remained
until the day arrived.
It was a great augmentation of my uneasiness to be bereaved,
at this eventful crisis, of the inestimable services of Miss Mills.
But Mr. Mills, who was always doing something or other to annoy
me - or I felt as if he were, which was the same thing - had brought
his conduct to a climax, by taking it into his head that he would
go to India. Why should he go to India, except to harass me? To
be sure he had nothing to do with any other part of the world, and
had a good deal to do with that part; being entirely in the India
trade, whatever that was (I had floating dreams myself concerning
golden shawls and elephants' teeth); having been at Calcutta in
his youth; and designing now to go out there again, in the capacity
of resident partner. But this was nothing to me. However, it was
so much to him that for India he was bound, and Julia with him;
and Julia went into the country to take leave of her relations;
and the house was put into a perfect suit of bills, announcing that
it was to be let or sold, and that the furniture (Mangle and all)
was to be taken at a valuation. So, here was another earthquake
of which I became the sport, before I had recovered from the shock
of its predecessor!
I was in several minds how to dress myself on the important day;
being divided between my desire to appear to advantage, and my apprehensions
of putting on anything that might impair my severely practical character
in the eyes of the Misses Spenlow. I endeavoured to hit a happy
medium between these two extremes; my aunt approved the result;
and Mr. Dick threw one of his shoes after Traddles and me, for luck,
as we went downstairs.
Excellent fellow as I knew Traddles to be, and warmly attached
to him as I was, I could not help wishing, on that delicate occasion,
that he had never contracted the habit of brushing his hair so very
upright. It gave him a surprised look - not to say a hearth-broomy
kind of expression - which, my apprehensions whispered, might be
fatal to us.
I took the liberty of mentioning it to Traddles, as we were walking
to Putney; and saying that if he WOULD smooth it down a little -
'My dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, lifting off his hat, and
rubbing his hair all kinds of ways, 'nothing would give me greater
pleasure. But it won't.'
'Won't be smoothed down?' said I.
'No,' said Traddles. 'Nothing will induce it. If I was to carry
a half-hundred-weight upon it, all the way to Putney, it would be
up again the moment the weight was taken off. You have no idea what
obstinate hair mine is, Copperfield. I am quite a fretful porcupine.'
I was a little disappointed, I must confess, but thoroughly charmed
by his good-nature too. I told him how I esteemed his good-nature;
and said that his hair must have taken all the obstinacy out of
his character, for he had none.
'Oh!' returned Traddles, laughing. 'I assure you, it's quite
an old story, my unfortunate hair. My uncle's wife couldn't bear
it. She said it exasperated her. It stood very much in my way, too,
when I first fell in love with Sophy. Very much!'
'Did she object to it?'
'SHE didn't,' rejoined Traddles; 'but her eldest sister - the
one that's the Beauty - quite made game of it, I understand. In
fact, all the sisters laugh at it.'
'Agreeable!' said I.
'Yes,' returned Traddles with perfect innocence, 'it's a joke
for us. They pretend that Sophy has a lock of it in her desk, and
is obliged to shut it in a clasped book, to keep it down. We laugh
about it.'
'By the by, my dear Traddles,' said I, 'your experience may suggest
something to me. When you became engaged to the young lady whom
you have just mentioned, did you make a regular proposal to her
family? Was there anything like - what we are going through today,
for instance?' I added, nervously.
'Why,' replied Traddles, on whose attentive face a thoughtful
shade had stolen, 'it was rather a painful transaction, Copperfield,
in my case. You see, Sophy being of so much use in the family, none
of them could endure the thought of her ever being married. Indeed,
they had quite settled among themselves that she never was to be
married, and they called her the old maid. Accordingly, when I mentioned
it, with the greatest precaution, to Mrs. Crewler -'
'The mama?' said I.
'The mama,' said Traddles - 'Reverend Horace Crewler - when I
mentioned it with every possible precaution to Mrs. Crewler, the
effect upon her was such that she gave a scream and became insensible.
I couldn't approach the subject again, for months.'
'You did at last?' said I.
'Well, the Reverend Horace did,' said Traddles. 'He is an excellent
man, most exemplary in every way; and he pointed out to her that
she ought, as a Christian, to reconcile herself to the sacrifice
(especially as it was so uncertain), and to bear no uncharitable
feeling towards me. As to myself, Copperfield, I give you my word,
I felt a perfect bird of prey towards the family.'
'The sisters took your part, I hope, Traddles?'
'Why, I can't say they did,' he returned. 'When we had comparatively
reconciled Mrs. Crewler to it, we had to break it to Sarah. You
recollect my mentioning Sarah, as the one that has something the
matter with her spine?'
'Perfectly!'
'She clenched both her hands,' said Traddles, looking at me in
dismay; 'shut her eyes; turned lead-colour; became perfectly stiff;
and took nothing for two days but toast-and-water, administered
with a tea-spoon.'
'What a very unpleasant girl, Traddles!' I remarked.
'Oh, I beg your pardon, Copperfield!' said Traddles. 'She is
a very charming girl, but she has a great deal of feeling. In fact,
they all have. Sophy told me afterwards, that the self-reproach
she underwent while she was in attendance upon Sarah, no words could
describe. I know it must have been severe, by my own feelings, Copperfield;
which were like a criminal's. After Sarah was restored, we still
had to break it to the other eight; and it produced various effects
upon them of a most pathetic nature. The two little ones, whom Sophy
educates, have only just left off de-testing me.'
'At any rate, they are all reconciled to it now, I hope?' said
I.
'Ye-yes, I should say they were, on the whole, resigned to it,'
said Traddles, doubtfully. 'The fact is, we avoid mentioning the
subject; and my unsettled prospects and indifferent circumstances
are a great consolation to them. There will be a deplorable scene,
whenever we are married. It will be much more like a funeral, than
a wedding. And they'll all hate me for taking her away!'
His honest face, as he looked at me with a serio-comic shake
of his head, impresses me more in the remembrance than it did in
the reality, for I was by this time in a state of such excessive
trepidation and wandering of mind, as to be quite unable to fix
my attention on anything. On our approaching the house where the
Misses Spenlow lived, I was at such a discount in respect of my
personal looks and presence of mind, that Traddles proposed a gentle
stimulant in the form of a glass of ale. This having been administered
at a neighbouring public-house, he conducted me, with tottering
steps, to the Misses Spenlow's door.
I had a vague sensation of being, as it were, on view, when the
maid opened it; and of wavering, somehow, across a hall with a weather-glass
in it, into a quiet little drawing-room on the ground-floor, commanding
a neat garden. Also of sitting down here, on a sofa, and seeing
Traddles's hair start up, now his hat was removed, like one of those
obtrusive little figures made of springs, that fly out of fictitious
snuff-boxes when the lid is taken off. Also of hearing an old-fashioned
clock ticking away on the chimney-piece, and trying to make it keep
time to the jerking of my heart, - which it wouldn't. Also of looking
round the room for any sign of Dora, and seeing none. Also of thinking
that Jip once barked in the distance, and was instantly choked by
somebody. Ultimately I found myself backing Traddles into the fireplace,
and bowing in great confusion to two dry little elderly ladies,
dressed in black, and each looking wonderfully like a preparation
in chip or tan of the late Mr. Spenlow.
'Pray,' said one of the two little ladies, 'be seated.'
When I had done tumbling over Traddles, and had sat upon something
which was not a cat - my first seat was - I so far recovered my
sight, as to perceive that Mr. Spenlow had evidently been the youngest
of the family; that there was a disparity of six or eight years
between the two sisters; and that the younger appeared to be the
manager of the conference, inasmuch as she had my letter in her
hand - so familiar as it looked to me, and yet so odd! - and was
referring to it through an eye-glass. They were dressed alike, but
this sister wore her dress with a more youthful air than the other;
and perhaps had a trifle more frill, or tucker, or brooch, or bracelet,
or some little thing of that kind, which made her look more lively.
They were both upright in their carriage, formal, precise, composed,
and quiet. The sister who had not my letter, had her arms crossed
on her breast, and resting on each other, like an Idol.
'Mr. Copperfield, I believe,' said the sister who had got my
letter, addressing herself to Traddles.
This was a frightful beginning. Traddles had to indicate that
I was Mr. Copperfield, and I had to lay claim to myself, and they
had to divest themselves of a preconceived opinion that Traddles
was Mr. Copperfield, and altogether we were in a nice condition.
To improve it, we all distinctly heard Jip give two short barks,
and receive another choke.
'Mr. Copperfield!' said the sister with the letter.
I did something - bowed, I suppose - and was all attention, when
the other sister struck in.
'My sister Lavinia,' said she 'being conversant with matters
of this nature, will state what we consider most calculated to promote
the happiness of both parties.'
I discovered afterwards that Miss Lavinia was an authority in
affairs of the heart, by reason of there having anciently existed
a certain Mr. Pidger, who played short whist, and was supposed to
have been enamoured of her. My private opinion is, that this was
entirely a gratuitous assumption, and that Pidger was altogether
innocent of any such sentiments - to which he had never given any
sort of expression that I could ever hear of. Both Miss Lavinia
and Miss Clarissa had a superstition, however, that he would have
declared his passion, if he had not been cut short in his youth
(at about sixty) by over-drinking his constitution, and over-doing
an attempt to set it right again by swilling Bath water. They had
a lurking suspicion even, that he died of secret love; though I
must say there was a picture of him in the house with a damask nose,
which concealment did not appear to have ever preyed upon.
'We will not,' said Miss Lavinia, 'enter on the past history
of this matter. Our poor brother Francis's death has cancelled that.'
'We had not,' said Miss Clarissa, 'been in the habit of frequent
association with our brother Francis; but there was no decided division
or disunion between us. Francis took his road; we took ours. We
considered it conducive to the happiness of all parties that it
should be so. And it was so.'
Each of the sisters leaned a little forward to speak, shook her
head after speaking, and became upright again when silent. Miss
Clarissa never moved her arms. She sometimes played tunes upon them
with her fingers - minuets and marches I should think - but never
moved them.
'Our niece's position, or supposed position, is much changed
by our brother Francis's death,' said Miss Lavinia; 'and therefore
we consider our brother's opinions as regarded her position as being
changed too. We have no reason to doubt, Mr. Copperfield, that you
are a young gentleman possessed of good qualities and honourable
character; or that you have an affection - or are fully persuaded
that you have an affection - for our niece.'
I replied, as I usually did whenever I had a chance, that nobody
had ever loved anybody else as I loved Dora. Traddles came to my
assistance with a confirmatory murmur.
Miss Lavinia was going on to make some rejoinder, when Miss Clarissa,
who appeared to be incessantly beset by a desire to refer to her
brother Francis, struck in again:
'If Dora's mama,' she said, 'when she married our brother Francis,
had at once said that there was not room for the family at the dinner-table,
it would have been better for the happiness of all parties.'
'Sister Clarissa,' said Miss Lavinia. 'Perhaps we needn't mind
that now.'
'Sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa, 'it belongs to the subject.
With your branch of the subject, on which alone you are competent
to speak, I should not think of interfering. On this branch of the
subject I have a voice and an opinion. It would have been better
for the happiness of all parties, if Dora's mama, when she married
our brother Francis, had mentioned plainly what her intentions were.
We should then have known what we had to expect. We should have
said "Pray do not invite us, at any time"; and all possibility
of misunderstanding would have been avoided.'
When Miss Clarissa had shaken her head, Miss Lavinia resumed:
again referring to my letter through her eye-glass. They both had
little bright round twinkling eyes, by the way, which were like
birds' eyes. They were not unlike birds, altogether; having a sharp,
brisk, sudden manner, and a little short, spruce way of adjusting
themselves, like canaries.
Miss Lavinia, as I have said, resumed:
'You ask permission of my sister Clarissa and myself, Mr. Copperfield,
to visit here, as the accepted suitor of our niece.'
'If our brother Francis,' said Miss Clarissa, breaking out again,
if I may call anything so calm a breaking out, 'wished to surround
himself with an atmosphere of Doctors' Commons, and of Doctors'
Commons only, what right or desire had we to object? None, I am
sure. We have ever been far from wishing to obtrude ourselves on
anyone. But why not say so? Let our brother Francis and his wife
have their society. Let my sister Lavinia and myself have our society.
We can find it for ourselves, I hope.'
As this appeared to be addressed to Traddles and me, both Traddles
and I made some sort of reply. Traddles was inaudible. I think I
observed, myself, that it was highly creditable to all concerned.
I don't in the least know what I meant.
'Sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa, having now relieved her
mind, 'you can go on, my dear.'
Miss Lavinia proceeded:
'Mr. Copperfield, my sister Clarissa and I have been very careful
indeed in considering this letter; and we have not considered it
without finally showing it to our niece, and discussing it with
our niece. We have no doubt that you think you like her very much.'
'Think, ma'am,' I rapturously began, 'oh! -'
But Miss Clarissa giving me a look (just like a sharp canary),
as requesting that I would not interrupt the oracle, I begged pardon.
'Affection,' said Miss Lavinia, glancing at her sister for corroboration,
which she gave in the form of a little nod to every clause, 'mature
affection, homage, devotion, does not easily express itself. Its
voice is low. It is modest and retiring, it lies in ambush, waits
and waits. Such is the mature fruit. Sometimes a life glides away,
and finds it still ripening in the shade.'
Of course I did not understand then that this was an allusion
to her supposed experience of the stricken Pidger; but I saw, from
the gravity with which Miss Clarissa nodded her head, that great
weight was attached to these words.
'The light - for I call them, in comparison with such sentiments,
the light - inclinations of very young people,' pursued Miss Lavinia,
'are dust, compared to rocks. It is owing to the difficulty of knowing
whether they are likely to endure or have any real foundation, that
my sister Clarissa and myself have been very undecided how to act,
Mr. Copperfield, and Mr. -'
'Traddles,' said my friend, finding himself looked at.
'I beg pardon. Of the Inner Temple, I believe?' said Miss Clarissa,
again glancing at my letter.
Traddles said 'Exactly so,' and became pretty red in the face.
Now, although I had not received any express encouragement as
yet, I fancied that I saw in the two little sisters, and particularly
in Miss Lavinia, an intensified enjoyment of this new and fruitful
subject of domestic interest, a settling down to make the most of
it, a disposition to pet it, in which there was a good bright ray
of hope. I thought I perceived that Miss Lavinia would have uncommon
satisfaction in superintending two young lovers, like Dora and me;
and that Miss Clarissa would have hardly less satisfaction in seeing
her superintend us, and in chiming in with her own particular department
of the subject whenever that impulse was strong upon her. This gave
me courage to protest most vehemently that I loved Dora better than
I could tell, or anyone believe; that all my friends knew how I
loved her; that my aunt, Agnes, Traddles, everyone who knew me,
knew how I loved her, and how earnest my love had made me. For the
truth of this, I appealed to Traddles. And Traddles, firing up as
if he were plunging into a Parliamentary Debate, really did come
out nobly: confirming me in good round terms, and in a plain sensible
practical manner, that evidently made a favourable impression.
'I speak, if I may presume to say so, as one who has some little
experience of such things,' said Traddles, 'being myself engaged
to a young lady - one of ten, down in Devonshire - and seeing no
probability, at present, of our engagement coming to a termination.'
'You may be able to confirm what I have said, Mr. Traddles,'
observed Miss Lavinia, evidently taking a new interest in him, 'of
the affection that is modest and retiring; that waits and waits?'
'Entirely, ma'am,' said Traddles.
Miss Clarissa looked at Miss Lavinia, and shook her head gravely.
Miss Lavinia looked consciously at Miss Clarissa, and heaved a little
sigh. 'Sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa, 'take my smelling-bottle.'
Miss Lavinia revived herself with a few whiffs of aromatic vinegar
- Traddles and I looking on with great solicitude the while; and
then went on to say, rather faintly:
'My sister and myself have been in great doubt, Mr. Traddles,
what course we ought to take in reference to the likings, or imaginary
likings, of such very young people as your friend Mr. Copperfield
and our niece.'
'Our brother Francis's child,' remarked Miss Clarissa. 'If our
brother Francis's wife had found it convenient in her lifetime (though
she had an unquestionable right to act as she thought best) to invite
the family to her dinner-table, we might have known our brother
Francis's child better at the present moment. Sister Lavinia, proceed.'
Miss Lavinia turned my letter, so as to bring the superscription
towards herself, and referred through her eye-glass to some orderly-looking
notes she had made on that part of it.
'It seems to us,' said she, 'prudent, Mr. Traddles, to bring
these feelings to the test of our own observation. At present we
know nothing of them, and are not in a situation to judge how much
reality there may be in them. Therefore we are inclined so far to
accede to Mr. Copperfield's proposal, as to admit his visits here.'
'I shall never, dear ladies,' I exclaimed, relieved of an immense
load of apprehension, 'forget your kindness!'
'But,' pursued Miss Lavinia, - 'but, we would prefer to regard
those visits, Mr. Traddles, as made, at present, to us. We must
guard ourselves from recognizing any positive engagement between
Mr. Copperfield and our niece, until we have had an opportunity
-'
'Until YOU have had an opportunity, sister Lavinia,' said Miss
Clarissa.
'Be it so,' assented Miss Lavinia, with a sigh - 'until I have
had an opportunity of observing them.'
'Copperfield,' said Traddles, turning to me, 'you feel, I am
sure, that nothing could be more reasonable or considerate.'
'Nothing!' cried I. 'I am deeply sensible of it.'
'In this position of affairs,' said Miss Lavinia, again referring
to her notes, 'and admitting his visits on this understanding only,
we must require from Mr. Copperfield a distinct assurance, on his
word of honour, that no communication of any kind shall take place
between him and our niece without our knowledge. That no project
whatever shall be entertained with regard to our niece, without
being first submitted to us -' 'To you, sister Lavinia,' Miss Clarissa
interposed.
'Be it so, Clarissa!' assented Miss Lavinia resignedly - 'to
me - and receiving our concurrence. We must make this a most express
and serious stipulation, not to be broken on any account. We wished
Mr. Copperfield to be accompanied by some confidential friend today,'
with an inclination of her head towards Traddles, who bowed, 'in
order that there might be no doubt or misconception on this subject.
If Mr. Copperfield, or if you, Mr. Traddles, feel the least scruple,
in giving this promise, I beg you to take time to consider it.'
I exclaimed, in a state of high ecstatic fervour, that not a
moment's consideration could be necessary. I bound myself by the
required promise, in a most impassioned manner; called upon Traddles
to witness it; and denounced myself as the most atrocious of characters
if I ever swerved from it in the least degree.
'Stay!' said Miss Lavinia, holding up her hand; 'we resolved,
before we had the pleasure of receiving you two gentlemen, to leave
you alone for a quarter of an hour, to consider this point. You
will allow us to retire.'
It was in vain for me to say that no consideration was necessary.
They persisted in withdrawing for the specified time. Accordingly,
these little birds hopped out with great dignity; leaving me to
receive the congratulations of Traddles, and to feel as if I were
translated to regions of exquisite happiness. Exactly at the expiration
of the quarter of an hour, they reappeared with no less dignity
than they had disappeared. They had gone rustling away as if their
little dresses were made of autumn-leaves: and they came rustling
back, in like manner.
I then bound myself once more to the prescribed conditions.
'Sister Clarissa,' said Miss Lavinia, 'the rest is with you.'
Miss Clarissa, unfolding her arms for the first time, took the
notes and glanced at them.
'We shall be happy,' said Miss Clarissa, 'to see Mr. Copperfield
to dinner, every Sunday, if it should suit his convenience. Our
hour is three.'
I bowed.
'In the course of the week,' said Miss Clarissa, 'we shall be
happy to see Mr. Copperfield to tea. Our hour is half-past six.'
I bowed again.
'Twice in the week,' said Miss Clarissa, 'but, as a rule, not
oftener.'
I bowed again.
'Miss Trotwood,' said Miss Clarissa, 'mentioned in Mr. Copperfield's
letter, will perhaps call upon us. When visiting is better for the
happiness of all parties, we are glad to receive visits, and return
them. When it is better for the happiness of all parties that no
visiting should take place, (as in the case of our brother Francis,
and his establishment) that is quite different.'
I intimated that my aunt would be proud and delighted to make
their acquaintance; though I must say I was not quite sure of their
getting on very satisfactorily together. The conditions being now
closed, I expressed my acknowledgements in the warmest manner; and,
taking the hand, first of Miss Clarissa, and then of Miss Lavinia,
pressed it, in each case, to my lips.
Miss Lavinia then arose, and begging Mr. Traddles to excuse us
for a minute, requested me to follow her. I obeyed, all in a tremble,
and was conducted into another room. There I found my blessed darling
stopping her ears behind the door, with her dear little face against
the wall; and Jip in the plate-warmer with his head tied up in a
towel. Oh! How beautiful she was in her black frock, and how she
sobbed and cried at first, and wouldn't come out from behind the
door! How fond we were of one another, when she did come out at
last; and what a state of bliss I was in, when we took Jip out of
the plate-warmer, and restored him to the light, sneezing very much,
and were all three reunited!
'My dearest Dora! Now, indeed, my own for ever!'
'Oh, DON'T!' pleaded Dora. 'Please!'
'Are you not my own for ever, Dora?'
'Oh yes, of course I am!' cried Dora, 'but I am so frightened!'
'Frightened, my own?'
'Oh yes! I don't like him,' said Dora. 'Why don't he go?'
'Who, my life?'
'Your friend,' said Dora. 'It isn't any business of his. What
a stupid he must be!'
'My love!' (There never was anything so coaxing as her childish
ways.) 'He is the best creature!'
'Oh, but we don't want any best creatures!' pouted Dora.
'My dear,' I argued, 'you will soon know him well, and like him
of all things. And here is my aunt coming soon; and you'll like
her of all things too, when you know her.'
'No, please don't bring her!' said Dora, giving me a horrified
little kiss, and folding her hands. 'Don't. I know she's a naughty,
mischief-making old thing! Don't let her come here, Doady!' which
was a corruption of David.
Remonstrance was of no use, then; so I laughed, and admired,
and was very much in love and very happy; and she showed me Jip's
new trick of standing on his hind legs in a corner - which he did
for about the space of a flash of lightning, and then fell down
- and I don't know how long I should have stayed there, oblivious
of Traddles, if Miss Lavinia had not come in to take me away. Miss
Lavinia was very fond of Dora (she told me Dora was exactly like
what she had been herself at her age - she must have altered a good
deal), and she treated Dora just as if she had been a toy. I wanted
to persuade Dora to come and see Traddles, but on my proposing it
she ran off to her own room and locked herself in; so I went to
Traddles without her, and walked away with him on air.
'Nothing could be more satisfactory,' said Traddles; 'and they
are very agreeable old ladies, I am sure. I shouldn't be at all
surprised if you were to be married years before me, Copperfield.'
'Does your Sophy play on any instrument, Traddles?' I inquired,
in the pride of my heart.
'She knows enough of the piano to teach it to her little sisters,'
said Traddles.
'Does she sing at all?' I asked.
'Why, she sings ballads, sometimes, to freshen up the others
a little when they're out of spirits,' said Traddles. 'Nothing scientific.'
'She doesn't sing to the guitar?' said I.
'Oh dear no!' said Traddles.
'Paint at all?'
'Not at all,' said Traddles.
I promised Traddles that he should hear Dora sing, and see some
of her flower-painting. He said he should like it very much, and
we went home arm in arm in great good humour and delight. I encouraged
him to talk about Sophy, on the way; which he did with a loving
reliance on her that I very much admired. I compared her in my mind
with Dora, with considerable inward satisfaction; but I candidly
admitted to myself that she seemed to be an excellent kind of girl
for Traddles, too.
Of course my aunt was immediately made acquainted with the successful
issue of the conference, and with all that had been said and done
in the course of it. She was happy to see me so happy, and promised
to call on Dora's aunts without loss of time. But she took such
a long walk up and down our rooms that night, while I was writing
to Agnes, that I began to think she meant to walk till morning.
My letter to Agnes was a fervent and grateful one, narrating
all the good effects that had resulted from my following her advice.
She wrote, by return of post, to me. Her letter was hopeful, earnest,
and cheerful. She was always cheerful from that time.
I had my hands more full than ever, now. My daily journeys to
Highgate considered, Putney was a long way off; and I naturally
wanted to go there as often as I could. The proposed tea-drinkings
being quite impracticable, I compounded with Miss Lavinia for permission
to visit every Saturday afternoon, without detriment to my privileged
Sundays. So, the close of every week was a delicious time for me;
and I got through the rest of the week by looking forward to it.
I was wonderfully relieved to find that my aunt and Dora's aunts
rubbed on, all things considered, much more smoothly than I could
have expected. My aunt made her promised visit within a few days
of the conference; and within a few more days, Dora's aunts called
upon her, in due state and form. Similar but more friendly exchanges
took place afterwards, usually at intervals of three or four weeks.
I know that my aunt distressed Dora's aunts very much, by utterly
setting at naught the dignity of fly-conveyance, and walking out
to Putney at extraordinary times, as shortly after breakfast or
just before tea; likewise by wearing her bonnet in any manner that
happened to be comfortable to her head, without at all deferring
to the prejudices of civilization on that subject. But Dora's aunts
soon agreed to regard my aunt as an eccentric and somewhat masculine
lady, with a strong understanding; and although my aunt occasionally
ruffled the feathers of Dora's aunts, by expressing heretical opinions
on various points of ceremony, she loved me too well not to sacrifice
some of her little peculiarities to the general harmony.
The only member of our small society who positively refused to
adapt himself to circumstances, was Jip. He never saw my aunt without
immediately displaying every tooth in his head, retiring under a
chair, and growling incessantly: with now and then a doleful howl,
as if she really were too much for his feelings. All kinds of treatment
were tried with him, coaxing, scolding, slapping, bringing him to
Buckingham Street (where he instantly dashed at the two cats, to
the terror of all beholders); but he never could prevail upon himself
to bear my aunt's society. He would sometimes think he had got the
better of his objection, and be amiable for a few minutes; and then
would put up his snub nose, and howl to that extent, that there
was nothing for it but to blind him and put him in the plate-warmer.
At length, Dora regularly muffled him in a towel and shut him up
there, whenever my aunt was reported at the door.
One thing troubled me much, after we had fallen into this quiet
train. It was, that Dora seemed by one consent to be regarded like
a pretty toy or plaything. My aunt, with whom she gradually became
familiar, always called her Little Blossom; and the pleasure of
Miss Lavinia's life was to wait upon her, curl her hair, make ornaments
for her, and treat her like a pet child. What Miss Lavinia did,
her sister did as a matter of course. It was very odd to me; but
they all seemed to treat Dora, in her degree, much as Dora treated
Jip in his.
I made up my mind to speak to Dora about this; and one day when
we were out walking (for we were licensed by Miss Lavinia, after
a while, to go out walking by ourselves), I said to her that I wished
she could get them to behave towards her differently.
'Because you know, my darling,' I remonstrated, 'you are not
a child.'
'There!' said Dora. 'Now you're going to be cross!'
'Cross, my love?'
'I am sure they're very kind to me,' said Dora, 'and I am very
happy -'
'Well! But my dearest life!' said I, 'you might be very happy,
and yet be treated rationally.'
Dora gave me a reproachful look - the prettiest look! - and then
began to sob, saying, if I didn't like her, why had I ever wanted
so much to be engaged to her? And why didn't I go away, now, if
I couldn't bear her?
What could I do, but kiss away her tears, and tell her how I
doted on her, after that!
'I am sure I am very affectionate,' said Dora; 'you oughtn't
to be cruel to me, Doady!'
'Cruel, my precious love! As if I would - or could - be cruel
to you, for the world!'
'Then don't find fault with me,' said Dora, making a rosebud
of her mouth; 'and I'll be good.'
I was charmed by her presently asking me, of her own accord,
to give her that cookery-book I had once spoken of, and to show
her how to keep accounts as I had once promised I would. I brought
the volume with me on my next visit (I got it prettily bound, first,
to make it look less dry and more inviting); and as we strolled
about the Common, I showed her an old housekeeping-book of my aunt's,
and gave her a set of tablets, and a pretty little pencil-case and
box of leads, to practise housekeeping with.
But the cookery-book made Dora's head ache, and the figures made
her cry. They wouldn't add up, she said. So she rubbed them out,
and drew little nosegays and likenesses of me and Jip, all over
the tablets.
Then I playfully tried verbal instruction in domestic matters,
as we walked about on a Saturday afternoon. Sometimes, for example,
when we passed a butcher's shop, I would say:
'Now suppose, my pet, that we were married, and you were going
to buy a shoulder of mutton for dinner, would you know how to buy
it?'
My pretty little Dora's face would fall, and she would make her
mouth into a bud again, as if she would very much prefer to shut
mine with a kiss.
'Would you know how to buy it, my darling?' I would repeat, perhaps,
if I were very inflexible.
Dora would think a little, and then reply, perhaps, with great
triumph:
'Why, the butcher would know how to sell it, and what need I
know? Oh, you silly boy!'
So, when I once asked Dora, with an eye to the cookery-book,
what she would do, if we were married, and I were to say I should
like a nice Irish stew, she replied that she would tell the servant
to make it; and then clapped her little hands together across my
arm, and laughed in such a charming manner that she was more delightful
than ever.
Consequently, the principal use to which the cookery-book was
devoted, was being put down in the corner for Jip to stand upon.
But Dora was so pleased, when she had trained him to stand upon
it without offering to come off, and at the same time to hold the
pencil-case in his mouth, that I was very glad I had bought it.
And we fell back on the guitar-case, and the flower-painting,
and the songs about never leaving off dancing, Ta ra la! and were
as happy as the week was long. I occasionally wished I could venture
to hint to Miss Lavinia, that she treated the darling of my heart
a little too much like a plaything; and I sometimes awoke, as it
were, wondering to find that I had fallen into the general fault,
and treated her like a plaything too - but not often.
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