DAVID
COPPERFIELD
PART 23
CHAPTER 23. 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.
To be continued
