No More Learning

More restless than he was, he crawls out of his house,
and looks at me, and wanders to the door, and whines to go upstairs.

'Not tonight, Jip! Not tonight! '

He comes very slowly back to me, licks my hand, and lifts his dim eyes
to my face.

'Oh, Jip! It may be, never again! '

He lies down at my feet, stretches himself out as if to sleep, and with
a plaintive cry, is dead.

'Oh, Agnes! Look, look, here! ' --That face, so full of pity, and of
grief, that rain of tears, that awful mute appeal to me, that solemn
hand upraised towards Heaven!

'Agnes? '

It is over. Darkness comes before my eyes; and, for a time, all things
are blotted out of my remembrance.



CHAPTER 54. Mr. MICAWBER'S TRANSACTIONS


This is not the time at which I am to enter on the state of my mind
beneath its load of sorrow. I came to think that the Future was walled
up before me, that the energy and action of my life were at an end, that
I never could find any refuge but in the grave. I came to think so, I
say, but not in the first shock of my grief. It slowly grew to that.
If the events I go on to relate, had not thickened around me, in the
beginning to confuse, and in the end to augment, my affliction, it is
possible (though I think not probable), that I might have fallen at once
into this condition. As it was, an interval occurred before I fully knew
my own distress; an interval, in which I even supposed that its sharpest
pangs were past; and when my mind could soothe itself by resting on
all that was most innocent and beautiful, in the tender story that was
closed for ever.

When it was first proposed that I should go abroad, or how it came to be
agreed among us that I was to seek the restoration of my peace in change
and travel, I do not, even now, distinctly know. The spirit of Agnes so
pervaded all we thought, and said, and did, in that time of sorrow, that
I assume I may refer the project to her influence. But her influence was
so quiet that I know no more.

And now, indeed, I began to think that in my old association of her with
the stained-glass window in the church, a prophetic foreshadowing of
what she would be to me, in the calamity that was to happen in the
fullness of time, had found a way into my mind. In all that sorrow, from
the moment, never to be forgotten, when she stood before me with her
upraised hand, she was like a sacred presence in my lonely house. When
the Angel of Death alighted there, my child-wife fell asleep--they told
me so when I could bear to hear it--on her bosom, with a smile. From my
swoon, I first awoke to a consciousness of her compassionate tears, her
words of hope and peace, her gentle face bending down as from a purer
region nearer Heaven, over my undisciplined heart, and softening its
pain.

Let me go on.

I was to go abroad. That seemed to have been determined among us from
the first. The ground now covering all that could perish of my
departed wife, I waited only for what Mr. Micawber called the 'final
pulverization of Heep'; and for the departure of the emigrants.

At the request of Traddles, most affectionate and devoted of friends in
my trouble, we returned to Canterbury: I mean my aunt, Agnes, and I. We
proceeded by appointment straight to Mr. Micawber's house; where, and at
Mr. Wickfield's, my friend had been labouring ever since our explosive
meeting. When poor Mrs. Micawber saw me come in, in my black clothes,
she was sensibly affected. There was a great deal of good in Mrs.
Micawber's heart, which had not been dunned out of it in all those many
years.

'Well, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber,' was my aunt's first salutation after we
were seated. 'Pray, have you thought about that emigration proposal of
mine? '

'My dear madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'perhaps I cannot better express
the conclusion at which Mrs. Micawber, your humble servant, and I may
add our children, have jointly and severally arrived, than by borrowing
the language of an illustrious poet, to reply that our Boat is on the
shore, and our Bark is on the sea. '

'That's right,' said my aunt. 'I augur all sort of good from your
sensible decision. '

'Madam, you do us a great deal of honour,' he rejoined. He then referred
to a memorandum. 'With respect to the pecuniary assistance enabling
us to launch our frail canoe on the ocean of enterprise, I have
reconsidered that important business-point; and would beg to propose
my notes of hand--drawn, it is needless to stipulate, on stamps of the
amounts respectively required by the various Acts of Parliament applying
to such securities--at eighteen, twenty-four, and thirty months.
The proposition I originally submitted, was twelve, eighteen, and
twenty-four; but I am apprehensive that such an arrangement might not
allow sufficient time for the requisite amount of--Something--to turn
up. We might not,' said Mr. Micawber, looking round the room as if it
represented several hundred acres of highly cultivated land, 'on the
first responsibility becoming due, have been successful in our harvest,
or we might not have got our harvest in. Labour, I believe, is sometimes
difficult to obtain in that portion of our colonial possessions where it
will be our lot to combat with the teeming soil. '

'Arrange it in any way you please, sir,' said my aunt.

'Madam,' he replied, 'Mrs. Micawber and myself are deeply sensible of
the very considerate kindness of our friends and patrons. What I wish
is, to be perfectly business-like, and perfectly punctual. Turning over,
as we are about to turn over, an entirely new leaf; and falling back,
as we are now in the act of falling back, for a Spring of no common
magnitude; it is important to my sense of self-respect, besides being
an example to my son, that these arrangements should be concluded as
between man and man. '

I don't know that Mr. Micawber attached any meaning to this last phrase;
I don't know that anybody ever does, or did; but he appeared to relish
it uncommonly, and repeated, with an impressive cough, 'as between man
and man'.

'I propose,' said Mr. Micawber, 'Bills--a convenience to the mercantile
world, for which, I believe, we are originally indebted to the Jews, who
appear to me to have had a devilish deal too much to do with them
ever since--because they are negotiable. But if a Bond, or any other
description of security, would be preferred, I should be happy to
execute any such instrument. As between man and man. '

My aunt observed, that in a case where both parties were willing to
agree to anything, she took it for granted there would be no difficulty
in settling this point. Mr. Micawber was of her opinion.

'In reference to our domestic preparations, madam,' said Mr. Micawber,
with some pride, 'for meeting the destiny to which we are now understood
to be self-devoted, I beg to report them. My eldest daughter attends
at five every morning in a neighbouring establishment, to acquire
the process--if process it may be called--of milking cows. My younger
children are instructed to observe, as closely as circumstances will
permit, the habits of the pigs and poultry maintained in the poorer
parts of this city: a pursuit from which they have, on two occasions,
been brought home, within an inch of being run over. I have myself
directed some attention, during the past week, to the art of baking; and
my son Wilkins has issued forth with a walking-stick and driven cattle,
when permitted, by the rugged hirelings who had them in charge, to
render any voluntary service in that direction--which I regret to say,
for the credit of our nature, was not often; he being generally warned,
with imprecations, to desist. '

'All very right indeed,' said my aunt, encouragingly. 'Mrs. Micawber has
been busy, too, I have no doubt. '

'My dear madam,' returned Mrs. Micawber, with her business-like air.
'I am free to confess that I have not been actively engaged in pursuits
immediately connected with cultivation or with stock, though well aware
that both will claim my attention on a foreign shore. Such opportunities
as I have been enabled to alienate from my domestic duties, I have
devoted to corresponding at some length with my family. For I own it
seems to me, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, who always
fell back on me, I suppose from old habit, to whomsoever else she might
address her discourse at starting, 'that the time is come when the past
should be buried in oblivion; when my family should take Mr. Micawber by
the hand, and Mr. Micawber should take my family by the hand; when the
lion should lie down with the lamb, and my family be on terms with Mr.
Micawber. '

I said I thought so too.

'This, at least, is the light, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' pursued Mrs.
Micawber, 'in which I view the subject. When I lived at home with my
papa and mama, my papa was accustomed to ask, when any point was under
discussion in our limited circle, "In what light does my Emma view the
subject? " That my papa was too partial, I know; still, on such a point
as the frigid coldness which has ever subsisted between Mr. Micawber and
my family, I necessarily have formed an opinion, delusive though it may
be. '

'No doubt. Of course you have, ma'am,' said my aunt.

'Precisely so,' assented Mrs. Micawber. 'Now, I may be wrong in my
conclusions; it is very likely that I am, but my individual impression
is, that the gulf between my family and Mr. Micawber may be traced to an
apprehension, on the part of my family, that Mr. Micawber would require
pecuniary accommodation. I cannot help thinking,' said Mrs. Micawber,
with an air of deep sagacity, 'that there are members of my family who
have been apprehensive that Mr. Micawber would solicit them for their
names. ---I do not mean to be conferred in Baptism upon our children,
but to be inscribed on Bills of Exchange, and negotiated in the Money
Market. '

The look of penetration with which Mrs. Micawber announced this
discovery, as if no one had ever thought of it before, seemed rather to
astonish my aunt; who abruptly replied, 'Well, ma'am, upon the whole, I
shouldn't wonder if you were right! '

'Mr. Micawber being now on the eve of casting off the pecuniary
shackles that have so long enthralled him,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'and of
commencing a new career in a country where there is sufficient range
for his abilities,--which, in my opinion, is exceedingly important; Mr.
Micawber's abilities peculiarly requiring space,--it seems to me that
my family should signalize the occasion by coming forward. What I could
wish to see, would be a meeting between Mr. Micawber and my family at
a festive entertainment, to be given at my family's expense; where Mr.
Micawber's health and prosperity being proposed, by some leading member
of my family, Mr. Micawber might have an opportunity of developing his
views. '

'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, with some heat, 'it may be better for me
to state distinctly, at once, that if I were to develop my views to that
assembled group, they would possibly be found of an offensive nature:
my impression being that your family are, in the aggregate, impertinent
Snobs; and, in detail, unmitigated Ruffians. '

'Micawber,' said Mrs. Micawber, shaking her head, 'no! You have never
understood them, and they have never understood you. '

Mr. Micawber coughed.

'They have never understood you, Micawber,' said his wife. 'They may
be incapable of it. If so, that is their misfortune. I can pity their
misfortune. '

'I am extremely sorry, my dear Emma,' said Mr. Micawber, relenting, 'to
have been betrayed into any expressions that might, even remotely, have
the appearance of being strong expressions. All I would say is, that
I can go abroad without your family coming forward to favour me,--in
short, with a parting Shove of their cold shoulders; and that, upon the
whole, I would rather leave England with such impetus as I possess, than
derive any acceleration of it from that quarter. At the same time, my
dear, if they should condescend to reply to your communications--which
our joint experience renders most improbable--far be it from me to be a
barrier to your wishes. '

The matter being thus amicably settled, Mr. Micawber gave Mrs. Micawber
his arm, and glancing at the heap of books and papers lying before
Traddles on the table, said they would leave us to ourselves; which they
ceremoniously did.

'My dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, leaning back in his chair when
they were gone, and looking at me with an affection that made his eyes
red, and his hair all kinds of shapes, 'I don't make any excuse for
troubling you with business, because I know you are deeply interested
in it, and it may divert your thoughts. My dear boy, I hope you are not
worn out? '

'I am quite myself,' said I, after a pause. 'We have more cause to think
of my aunt than of anyone. You know how much she has done. '

'Surely, surely,' answered Traddles. 'Who can forget it! '

'But even that is not all,' said I. 'During the last fortnight, some new
trouble has vexed her; and she has been in and out of London every day.
Several times she has gone out early, and been absent until evening.
Last night, Traddles, with this journey before her, it was almost
midnight before she came home. You know what her consideration for
others is. She will not tell me what has happened to distress her. '

My aunt, very pale, and with deep lines in her face, sat immovable until
I had finished; when some stray tears found their way to her cheeks, and
she put her hand on mine.

'It's nothing, Trot; it's nothing. There will be no more of it. You
shall know by and by. Now Agnes, my dear, let us attend to these
affairs. '

'I must do Mr. Micawber the justice to say,' Traddles began, 'that
although he would appear not to have worked to any good account for
himself, he is a most untiring man when he works for other people. I
never saw such a fellow. If he always goes on in the same way, he must
be, virtually, about two hundred years old, at present. The heat into
which he has been continually putting himself; and the distracted and
impetuous manner in which he has been diving, day and night, among
papers and books; to say nothing of the immense number of letters he has
written me between this house and Mr. Wickfield's, and often across the
table when he has been sitting opposite, and might much more easily have
spoken; is quite extraordinary. '

'Letters! ' cried my aunt. 'I believe he dreams in letters! '

'There's Mr. Dick, too,' said Traddles, 'has been doing wonders! As soon
as he was released from overlooking Uriah Heep, whom he kept in such
charge as I never saw exceeded, he began to devote himself to Mr.
Wickfield. And really his anxiety to be of use in the investigations we
have been making, and his real usefulness in extracting, and copying,
and fetching, and carrying, have been quite stimulating to us. '

'Dick is a very remarkable man,' exclaimed my aunt; 'and I always said
he was. Trot, you know it. '

'I am happy to say, Miss Wickfield,' pursued Traddles, at once with
great delicacy and with great earnestness, 'that in your absence Mr.
Wickfield has considerably improved. Relieved of the incubus that had
fastened upon him for so long a time, and of the dreadful apprehensions
under which he had lived, he is hardly the same person. At times,
even his impaired power of concentrating his memory and attention on
particular points of business, has recovered itself very much; and he
has been able to assist us in making some things clear, that we should
have found very difficult indeed, if not hopeless, without him. But
what I have to do is to come to results; which are short enough; not
to gossip on all the hopeful circumstances I have observed, or I shall
never have done. ' His natural manner and agreeable simplicity made it
transparent that he said this to put us in good heart, and to enable
Agnes to hear her father mentioned with greater confidence; but it was
not the less pleasant for that.

'Now, let me see,' said Traddles, looking among the papers on the
table. 'Having counted our funds, and reduced to order a great mass of
unintentional confusion in the first place, and of wilful confusion and
falsification in the second, we take it to be clear that Mr. Wickfield
might now wind up his business, and his agency-trust, and exhibit no
deficiency or defalcation whatever. '

'Oh, thank Heaven! ' cried Agnes, fervently.

'But,' said Traddles, 'the surplus that would be left as his means of
support--and I suppose the house to be sold, even in saying this--would
be so small, not exceeding in all probability some hundreds of pounds,
that perhaps, Miss Wickfield, it would be best to consider whether he
might not retain his agency of the estate to which he has so long been
receiver. His friends might advise him, you know; now he is free. You
yourself, Miss Wickfield--Copperfield--I--'

'I have considered it, Trotwood,' said Agnes, looking to me, 'and I feel
that it ought not to be, and must not be; even on the recommendation of
a friend to whom I am so grateful, and owe so much. '

'I will not say that I recommend it,' observed Traddles. 'I think it
right to suggest it. No more. '

'I am happy to hear you say so,' answered Agnes, steadily, 'for it gives
me hope, almost assurance, that we think alike. Dear Mr. Traddles and
dear Trotwood, papa once free with honour, what could I wish for! I have
always aspired, if I could have released him from the toils in which he
was held, to render back some little portion of the love and care I owe
him, and to devote my life to him. It has been, for years, the utmost
height of my hopes. To take our future on myself, will be the next
great happiness--the next to his release from all trust and
responsibility--that I can know. '

'Have you thought how, Agnes? '

'Often! I am not afraid, dear Trotwood. I am certain of success. So many
people know me here, and think kindly of me, that I am certain. Don't
mistrust me. Our wants are not many. If I rent the dear old house, and
keep a school, I shall be useful and happy.
'

The calm fervour of her cheerful voice brought back so vividly, first
the dear old house itself, and then my solitary home, that my heart was
too full for speech. Traddles pretended for a little while to be busily
looking among the papers.

'Next, Miss Trotwood,' said Traddles, 'that property of yours. '

'Well, sir,' sighed my aunt. 'All I have got to say about it is, that if
it's gone, I can bear it; and if it's not gone, I shall be glad to get
it back. '

'It was originally, I think, eight thousand pounds, Consols? ' said
Traddles.

'Right! ' replied my aunt.

'I can't account for more than five,' said Traddles, with an air of
perplexity.

'--thousand, do you mean? ' inquired my aunt, with uncommon composure,
'or pounds? '

'Five thousand pounds,' said Traddles.

'It was all there was,' returned my aunt. 'I sold three, myself. One, I
paid for your articles, Trot, my dear; and the other two I have by me.
When I lost the rest, I thought it wise to say nothing about that sum,
but to keep it secretly for a rainy day. I wanted to see how you would
come out of the trial, Trot; and you came out nobly--persevering,
self-reliant, self-denying! So did Dick. Don't speak to me, for I find
my nerves a little shaken! '

Nobody would have thought so, to see her sitting upright, with her arms
folded; but she had wonderful self-command.

'Then I am delighted to say,' cried Traddles, beaming with joy, 'that we
have recovered the whole money! '

'Don't congratulate me, anybody! ' exclaimed my aunt. 'How so, sir? '

'You believed it had been misappropriated by Mr. Wickfield? ' said
Traddles.

'Of course I did,' said my aunt, 'and was therefore easily silenced.
Agnes, not a word! '

'And indeed,' said Traddles, 'it was sold, by virtue of the power of
management he held from you; but I needn't say by whom sold, or on whose
actual signature. It was afterwards pretended to Mr. Wickfield, by that
rascal,--and proved, too, by figures,--that he had possessed himself of
the money (on general instructions, he said) to keep other deficiencies
and difficulties from the light. Mr. Wickfield, being so weak and
helpless in his hands as to pay you, afterwards, several sums of
interest on a pretended principal which he knew did not exist, made
himself, unhappily, a party to the fraud. '

'And at last took the blame upon himself,' added my aunt; 'and wrote me
a mad letter, charging himself with robbery, and wrong unheard of. Upon
which I paid him a visit early one morning, called for a candle, burnt
the letter, and told him if he ever could right me and himself, to
do it; and if he couldn't, to keep his own counsel for his daughter's
sake. ---If anybody speaks to me, I'll leave the house! '

We all remained quiet; Agnes covering her face.

'Well, my dear friend,' said my aunt, after a pause, 'and you have
really extorted the money back from him? '

'Why, the fact is,' returned Traddles, 'Mr. Micawber had so completely
hemmed him in, and was always ready with so many new points if an
old one failed, that he could not escape from us. A most remarkable
circumstance is, that I really don't think he grasped this sum even so
much for the gratification of his avarice, which was inordinate, as in
the hatred he felt for Copperfield. He said so to me, plainly. He said
he would even have spent as much, to baulk or injure Copperfield. '

'Ha! ' said my aunt, knitting her brows thoughtfully, and glancing at
Agnes. 'And what's become of him? '

'I don't know. He left here,' said Traddles, 'with his mother, who had
been clamouring, and beseeching, and disclosing, the whole time. They
went away by one of the London night coaches, and I know no more about
him; except that his malevolence to me at parting was audacious. He
seemed to consider himself hardly less indebted to me, than to Mr.
Micawber; which I consider (as I told him) quite a compliment. '

'Do you suppose he has any money, Traddles? ' I asked.

'Oh dear, yes, I should think so,' he replied, shaking his head,
seriously. 'I should say he must have pocketed a good deal, in one
way or other. But, I think you would find, Copperfield, if you had an
opportunity of observing his course, that money would never keep that
man out of mischief. He is such an incarnate hypocrite, that whatever
object he pursues, he must pursue crookedly. It's his only compensation
for the outward restraints he puts upon himself. Always creeping along
the ground to some small end or other, he will always magnify every
object in the way; and consequently will hate and suspect everybody that
comes, in the most innocent manner, between him and it. So the crooked
courses will become crookeder, at any moment, for the least reason,
or for none. It's only necessary to consider his history here,' said
Traddles, 'to know that. '

'He's a monster of meanness! ' said my aunt.

'Really I don't know about that,' observed Traddles thoughtfully. 'Many
people can be very mean, when they give their minds to it. '

'And now, touching Mr. Micawber,' said my aunt.

'Well, really,' said Traddles, cheerfully, 'I must, once more, give Mr.
Micawber high praise. But for his having been so patient and persevering
for so long a time, we never could have hoped to do anything worth
speaking of. And I think we ought to consider that Mr. Micawber did
right, for right's sake, when we reflect what terms he might have made
with Uriah Heep himself, for his silence. '

'I think so too,' said I.

'Now, what would you give him? ' inquired my aunt.

'Oh! Before you come to that,' said Traddles, a little disconcerted,
'I am afraid I thought it discreet to omit (not being able to carry
everything before me) two points, in making this lawless adjustment--for
it's perfectly lawless from beginning to end--of a difficult affair.
Those I. O. U. 's, and so forth, which Mr. Micawber gave him for the
advances he had--'

'Well! They must be paid,' said my aunt.

'Yes, but I don't know when they may be proceeded on, or where they
are,' rejoined Traddles, opening his eyes; 'and I anticipate, that,
between this time and his departure, Mr. Micawber will be constantly
arrested, or taken in execution. '

'Then he must be constantly set free again, and taken out of execution,'
said my aunt. 'What's the amount altogether? '

'Why, Mr. Micawber has entered the transactions--he calls them
transactions--with great form, in a book,' rejoined Traddles, smiling;
'and he makes the amount a hundred and three pounds, five. '

'Now, what shall we give him, that sum included? ' said my aunt. 'Agnes,
my dear, you and I can talk about division of it afterwards. What should
it be? Five hundred pounds? '

Upon this, Traddles and I both struck in at once. We both recommended
a small sum in money, and the payment, without stipulation to Mr.
Micawber, of the Uriah claims as they came in. We proposed that the
family should have their passage and their outfit, and a hundred pounds;
and that Mr. Micawber's arrangement for the repayment of the advances
should be gravely entered into, as it might be wholesome for him
to suppose himself under that responsibility. To this, I added the
suggestion, that I should give some explanation of his character and
history to Mr. Peggotty, who I knew could be relied on; and that to Mr.
Peggotty should be quietly entrusted the discretion of advancing another
hundred. I further proposed to interest Mr. Micawber in Mr. Peggotty,
by confiding so much of Mr. Peggotty's story to him as I might feel
justified in relating, or might think expedient; and to endeavour to
bring each of them to bear upon the other, for the common advantage. We
all entered warmly into these views; and I may mention at once, that the
principals themselves did so, shortly afterwards, with perfect good will
and harmony.

Seeing that Traddles now glanced anxiously at my aunt again, I reminded
him of the second and last point to which he had adverted.

'You and your aunt will excuse me, Copperfield, if I touch upon a
painful theme, as I greatly fear I shall,' said Traddles, hesitating;
'but I think it necessary to bring it to your recollection. On the day
of Mr. Micawber's memorable denunciation a threatening allusion was made
by Uriah Heep to your aunt's--husband. '

My aunt, retaining her stiff position, and apparent composure, assented
with a nod.

'Perhaps,' observed Traddles, 'it was mere purposeless impertinence? '

'No,' returned my aunt.

'There was--pardon me--really such a person, and at all in his power? '
hinted Traddles.

'Yes, my good friend,' said my aunt.

Traddles, with a perceptible lengthening of his face, explained that he
had not been able to approach this subject; that it had shared the fate
of Mr. Micawber's liabilities, in not being comprehended in the terms he
had made; that we were no longer of any authority with Uriah Heep; and
that if he could do us, or any of us, any injury or annoyance, no doubt
he would.

My aunt remained quiet; until again some stray tears found their way to
her cheeks. 'You are quite right,' she said. 'It was very thoughtful to
mention it. '

'Can I--or Copperfield--do anything? ' asked Traddles, gently.

'Nothing,' said my aunt. 'I thank you many times. Trot, my dear, a vain
threat! Let us have Mr. and Mrs. Micawber back. And don't any of you
speak to me! ' With that she smoothed her dress, and sat, with her
upright carriage, looking at the door.

'Well, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber! ' said my aunt, when they entered. 'We have
been discussing your emigration, with many apologies to you for keeping
you out of the room so long; and I'll tell you what arrangements we
propose. '

These she explained to the unbounded satisfaction of the
family,--children and all being then present,--and so much to the
awakening of Mr. Micawber's punctual habits in the opening stage of
all bill transactions, that he could not be dissuaded from immediately
rushing out, in the highest spirits, to buy the stamps for his notes of
hand. But, his joy received a sudden check; for within five minutes,
he returned in the custody of a sheriff 's officer, informing us, in
a flood of tears, that all was lost. We, being quite prepared for this
event, which was of course a proceeding of Uriah Heep's, soon paid the
money; and in five minutes more Mr. Micawber was seated at the table,
filling up the stamps with an expression of perfect joy, which only
that congenial employment, or the making of punch, could impart in full
completeness to his shining face. To see him at work on the stamps, with
the relish of an artist, touching them like pictures, looking at them
sideways, taking weighty notes of dates and amounts in his pocket-book,
and contemplating them when finished, with a high sense of their
precious value, was a sight indeed.

'Now, the best thing you can do, sir, if you'll allow me to advise
you,' said my aunt, after silently observing him, 'is to abjure that
occupation for evermore. '

'Madam,' replied Mr. Micawber, 'it is my intention to register such a
vow on the virgin page of the future. Mrs. Micawber will attest it. I
trust,' said Mr. Micawber, solemnly, 'that my son Wilkins will ever bear
in mind, that he had infinitely better put his fist in the fire, than
use it to handle the serpents that have poisoned the life-blood of his
unhappy parent! ' Deeply affected, and changed in a moment to the image
of despair, Mr. Micawber regarded the serpents with a look of gloomy
abhorrence (in which his late admiration of them was not quite subdued),
folded them up and put them in his pocket.

This closed the proceedings of the evening. We were weary with sorrow
and fatigue, and my aunt and I were to return to London on the morrow.
It was arranged that the Micawbers should follow us, after effecting a
sale of their goods to a broker; that Mr. Wickfield's affairs should be
brought to a settlement, with all convenient speed, under the direction
of Traddles; and that Agnes should also come to London, pending those
arrangements. We passed the night at the old house, which, freed from
the presence of the Heeps, seemed purged of a disease; and I lay in my
old room, like a shipwrecked wanderer come home.

We went back next day to my aunt's house--not to mine--and when she and
I sat alone, as of old, before going to bed, she said:

'Trot, do you really wish to know what I have had upon my mind lately? '

'Indeed I do, aunt. If there ever was a time when I felt unwilling that
you should have a sorrow or anxiety which I could not share, it is now. '

'You have had sorrow enough, child,' said my aunt, affectionately,
'without the addition of my little miseries. I could have no other
motive, Trot, in keeping anything from you. '

'I know that well,' said I. 'But tell me now. '

'Would you ride with me a little way tomorrow morning? ' asked my aunt.

'Of course. '

'At nine,' said she. 'I'll tell you then, my dear. '

At nine, accordingly, we went out in a little chariot, and drove to
London. We drove a long way through the streets, until we came to one of
the large hospitals. Standing hard by the building was a plain hearse.
The driver recognized my aunt, and, in obedience to a motion of her hand
at the window, drove slowly off; we following.

'You understand it now, Trot,' said my aunt. 'He is gone! '

'Did he die in the hospital? '

'Yes. '

She sat immovable beside me; but, again I saw the stray tears on her
face.

'He was there once before,' said my aunt presently. 'He was ailing a
long time--a shattered, broken man, these many years. When he knew his
state in this last illness, he asked them to send for me. He was sorry
then. Very sorry. '

'You went, I know, aunt. '

'I went. I was with him a good deal afterwards. '

'He died the night before we went to Canterbury? ' said I. My aunt
nodded. 'No one can harm him now,' she said. 'It was a vain threat. '

We drove away, out of town, to the churchyard at Hornsey. 'Better here
than in the streets,' said my aunt. 'He was born here. '

We alighted; and followed the plain coffin to a corner I remember well,
where the service was read consigning it to the dust.

'Six-and-thirty years ago, this day, my dear,' said my aunt, as we
walked back to the chariot, 'I was married. God forgive us all! ' We took
our seats in silence; and so she sat beside me for a long time, holding
my hand. At length she suddenly burst into tears, and said:

'He was a fine-looking man when I married him, Trot--and he was sadly
changed!