No More Learning

will not require me to depict my feelings,
when I inform him that I have become accustomed to hear Mr. Micawber
assert that he has sold himself to the D. Mystery and secrecy have
long been his principal characteristic, have long replaced unlimited
confidence. The slightest provocation, even being asked if there is
anything he would prefer for dinner, causes him to express a wish for a
separation. Last night, on being childishly solicited for twopence, to
buy 'lemon-stunners'--a local sweetmeat--he presented an oyster-knife at
the twins!

'I entreat Mr. Traddles to bear with me in entering into these details.
Without them, Mr. T. would indeed find it difficult to form the faintest
conception of my heart-rending situation.

'May I now venture to confide to Mr. T. the purport of my letter? Will
he now allow me to throw myself on his friendly consideration? Oh yes,
for I know his heart!

'The quick eye of affection is not easily blinded, when of the female
sex. Mr. Micawber is going to London. Though he studiously concealed his
hand, this morning before breakfast, in writing the direction-card which
he attached to the little brown valise of happier days, the eagle-glance
of matrimonial anxiety detected, d, o, n, distinctly traced. The
West-End destination of the coach, is the Golden Cross. Dare I fervently
implore Mr. T. to see my misguided husband, and to reason with him?
Dare I ask Mr. T. to endeavour to step in between Mr. Micawber and his
agonized family? Oh no, for that would be too much!

'If Mr. Copperfield should yet remember one unknown to fame, will Mr.
T. take charge of my unalterable regards and similar entreaties? In
any case, he will have the benevolence to consider this communication
strictly private, and on no account whatever to be alluded to, however
distantly, in the presence of Mr. Micawber. If Mr. T. should ever
reply to it (which I cannot but feel to be most improbable), a letter
addressed to M. E. , Post Office, Canterbury, will be fraught with
less painful consequences than any addressed immediately to one, who
subscribes herself, in extreme distress,

'Mr. Thomas Traddles's respectful friend and suppliant,

'EMMA MICAWBER. '


'What do you think of that letter? ' said Traddles, casting his eyes upon
me, when I had read it twice.

'What do you think of the other? ' said I. For he was still reading it
with knitted brows.

'I think that the two together, Copperfield,' replied Traddles,
'mean more than Mr. and Mrs. Micawber usually mean in their
correspondence--but I don't know what. They are both written in good
faith, I have no doubt, and without any collusion. Poor thing! ' he was
now alluding to Mrs. Micawber's letter, and we were standing side by
side comparing the two; 'it will be a charity to write to her, at all
events, and tell her that we will not fail to see Mr. Micawber. '

I acceded to this the more readily, because I now reproached myself with
having treated her former letter rather lightly. It had set me thinking
a good deal at the time, as I have mentioned in its place; but my
absorption in my own affairs, my experience of the family, and my
hearing nothing more, had gradually ended in my dismissing the subject.
I had often thought of the Micawbers, but chiefly to wonder what
'pecuniary liabilities' they were establishing in Canterbury, and to
recall how shy Mr. Micawber was of me when he became clerk to Uriah
Heep.

However, I now wrote a comforting letter to Mrs. Micawber, in our
joint names, and we both signed it. As we walked into town to post it,
Traddles and I held a long conference, and launched into a number of
speculations, which I need not repeat. We took my aunt into our counsels
in the afternoon; but our only decided conclusion was, that we would be
very punctual in keeping Mr. Micawber's appointment.

Although we appeared at the stipulated place a quarter of an hour before
the time, we found Mr. Micawber already there. He was standing with his
arms folded, over against the wall, looking at the spikes on the top,
with a sentimental expression, as if they were the interlacing boughs of
trees that had shaded him in his youth.

When we accosted him, his manner was something more confused, and
something less genteel, than of yore. He had relinquished his legal suit
of black for the purposes of this excursion, and wore the old surtout
and tights, but not quite with the old air. He gradually picked up more
and more of it as we conversed with him; but, his very eye-glass seemed
to hang less easily, and his shirt-collar, though still of the old
formidable dimensions, rather drooped.

'Gentlemen! ' said Mr. Micawber, after the first salutations, 'you are
friends in need, and friends indeed. Allow me to offer my inquiries with
reference to the physical welfare of Mrs. Copperfield in esse, and
Mrs. Traddles in posse,--presuming, that is to say, that my friend Mr.
Traddles is not yet united to the object of his affections, for weal and
for woe. '

We acknowledged his politeness, and made suitable replies. He then
directed our attention to the wall, and was beginning, 'I assure you,
gentlemen,' when I ventured to object to that ceremonious form of
address, and to beg that he would speak to us in the old way.

'My dear Copperfield,' he returned, pressing my hand, 'your cordiality
overpowers me. This reception of a shattered fragment of the Temple once
called Man--if I may be permitted so to express myself--bespeaks a heart
that is an honour to our common nature. I was about to observe that
I again behold the serene spot where some of the happiest hours of my
existence fleeted by. '

'Made so, I am sure, by Mrs. Micawber,' said I. 'I hope she is well? '

'Thank you,' returned Mr. Micawber, whose face clouded at this
reference, 'she is but so-so. And this,' said Mr. Micawber, nodding
his head sorrowfully, 'is the Bench! Where, for the first time in many
revolving years, the overwhelming pressure of pecuniary liabilities was
not proclaimed, from day to day, by importune voices declining to vacate
the passage; where there was no knocker on the door for any creditor
to appeal to; where personal service of process was not required, and
detainees were merely lodged at the gate! Gentlemen,' said Mr. Micawber,
'when the shadow of that iron-work on the summit of the brick structure
has been reflected on the gravel of the Parade, I have seen my children
thread the mazes of the intricate pattern, avoiding the dark marks. I
have been familiar with every stone in the place. If I betray weakness,
you will know how to excuse me. '

'We have all got on in life since then, Mr. Micawber,' said I.

'Mr. Copperfield,' returned Mr. Micawber, bitterly, 'when I was an
inmate of that retreat I could look my fellow-man in the face, and punch
his head if he offended me. My fellow-man and myself are no longer on
those glorious terms! '

Turning from the building in a downcast manner, Mr. Micawber accepted
my proffered arm on one side, and the proffered arm of Traddles on the
other, and walked away between us.

'There are some landmarks,' observed Mr. Micawber, looking fondly back
over his shoulder, 'on the road to the tomb, which, but for the impiety
of the aspiration, a man would wish never to have passed. Such is the
Bench in my chequered career. '

'Oh, you are in low spirits, Mr. Micawber,' said Traddles.

'I am, sir,' interposed Mr. Micawber.

'I hope,' said Traddles, 'it is not because you have conceived a dislike
to the law--for I am a lawyer myself, you know. '

Mr. Micawber answered not a word.

'How is our friend Heep, Mr. Micawber? ' said I, after a silence.

'My dear Copperfield,' returned Mr. Micawber, bursting into a state of
much excitement, and turning pale, 'if you ask after my employer as
YOUR friend, I am sorry for it; if you ask after him as MY friend,
I sardonically smile at it. In whatever capacity you ask after my
employer, I beg, without offence to you, to limit my reply to this--that
whatever his state of health may be, his appearance is foxy: not to
say diabolical. You will allow me, as a private individual, to
decline pursuing a subject which has lashed me to the utmost verge of
desperation in my professional capacity. '

I expressed my regret for having innocently touched upon a theme
that roused him so much. 'May I ask,' said I, 'without any hazard of
repeating the mistake, how my old friends Mr. and Miss Wickfield are? '

'Miss Wickfield,' said Mr. Micawber, now turning red, 'is, as she always
is, a pattern, and a bright example. My dear Copperfield, she is the
only starry spot in a miserable existence. My respect for that young
lady, my admiration of her character, my devotion to her for her love
and truth, and goodness! --Take me,' said Mr. Micawber, 'down a turning,
for, upon my soul, in my present state of mind I am not equal to this! '

We wheeled him off into a narrow street, where he took out his
pocket-handkerchief, and stood with his back to a wall. If I looked as
gravely at him as Traddles did, he must have found our company by no
means inspiriting.

'It is my fate,' said Mr. Micawber, unfeignedly sobbing, but doing even
that, with a shadow of the old expression of doing something genteel;
'it is my fate, gentlemen, that the finer feelings of our nature have
become reproaches to me. My homage to Miss Wickfield, is a flight of
arrows in my bosom. You had better leave me, if you please, to walk the
earth as a vagabond. The worm will settle my business in double-quick
time. '

Without attending to this invocation, we stood by, until he put up his
pocket-handkerchief, pulled up his shirt-collar, and, to delude any
person in the neighbourhood who might have been observing him, hummed a
tune with his hat very much on one side. I then mentioned--not knowing
what might be lost if we lost sight of him yet--that it would give me
great pleasure to introduce him to my aunt, if he would ride out to
Highgate, where a bed was at his service.

'You shall make us a glass of your own punch, Mr. Micawber,' said
I, 'and forget whatever you have on your mind, in pleasanter
reminiscences. '

'Or, if confiding anything to friends will be more likely to relieve
you, you shall impart it to us, Mr. Micawber,' said Traddles, prudently.

'Gentlemen,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'do with me as you will! I am a
straw upon the surface of the deep, and am tossed in all directions by
the elephants--I beg your pardon; I should have said the elements. '

We walked on, arm-in-arm, again; found the coach in the act of starting;
and arrived at Highgate without encountering any difficulties by the
way. I was very uneasy and very uncertain in my mind what to say or do
for the best--so was Traddles, evidently. Mr. Micawber was for the most
part plunged into deep gloom. He occasionally made an attempt to smarten
himself, and hum the fag-end of a tune; but his relapses into profound
melancholy were only made the more impressive by the mockery of a hat
exceedingly on one side, and a shirt-collar pulled up to his eyes.

We went to my aunt's house rather than to mine, because of Dora's not
being well. My aunt presented herself on being sent for, and welcomed
Mr. Micawber with gracious cordiality. Mr. Micawber kissed her hand,
retired to the window, and pulling out his pocket-handkerchief, had a
mental wrestle with himself.

Mr. Dick was at home. He was by nature so exceedingly compassionate of
anyone who seemed to be ill at ease, and was so quick to find any such
person out, that he shook hands with Mr. Micawber, at least half-a-dozen
times in five minutes. To Mr. Micawber, in his trouble, this warmth, on
the part of a stranger, was so extremely touching, that he could
only say, on the occasion of each successive shake, 'My dear sir, you
overpower me! ' Which gratified Mr. Dick so much, that he went at it
again with greater vigour than before.

'The friendliness of this gentleman,' said Mr. Micawber to my aunt, 'if
you will allow me, ma'am, to cull a figure of speech from the vocabulary
of our coarser national sports--floors me. To a man who is struggling
with a complicated burden of perplexity and disquiet, such a reception
is trying, I assure you. '

'My friend Mr. Dick,' replied my aunt proudly, 'is not a common man. '

'That I am convinced of,' said Mr. Micawber. 'My dear sir! ' for Mr.
Dick was shaking hands with him again; 'I am deeply sensible of your
cordiality! '

'How do you find yourself? ' said Mr. Dick, with an anxious look.

'Indifferent, my dear sir,' returned Mr. Micawber, sighing.

'You must keep up your spirits,' said Mr. Dick, 'and make yourself as
comfortable as possible. '

Mr. Micawber was quite overcome by these friendly words, and by finding
Mr. Dick's hand again within his own. 'It has been my lot,' he observed,
'to meet, in the diversified panorama of human existence, with an
occasional oasis, but never with one so green, so gushing, as the
present! '

At another time I should have been amused by this; but I felt that
we were all constrained and uneasy, and I watched Mr. Micawber so
anxiously, in his vacillations between an evident disposition to reveal
something, and a counter-disposition to reveal nothing, that I was in a
perfect fever. Traddles, sitting on the edge of his chair, with his eyes
wide open, and his hair more emphatically erect than ever, stared by
turns at the ground and at Mr. Micawber, without so much as attempting
to put in a word. My aunt, though I saw that her shrewdest observation
was concentrated on her new guest, had more useful possession of her
wits than either of us; for she held him in conversation, and made it
necessary for him to talk, whether he liked it or not.

'You are a very old friend of my nephew's, Mr. Micawber,' said my aunt.
'I wish I had had the pleasure of seeing you before. '

'Madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'I wish I had had the honour of knowing
you at an earlier period. I was not always the wreck you at present
behold. '

'I hope Mrs. Micawber and your family are well, sir,' said my aunt.

Mr. Micawber inclined his head. 'They are as well, ma'am,' he
desperately observed after a pause, 'as Aliens and Outcasts can ever
hope to be. '

'Lord bless you, sir! ' exclaimed my aunt, in her abrupt way. 'What are
you talking about?
'

'The subsistence of my family, ma'am,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'trembles
in the balance. My employer--'

Here Mr. Micawber provokingly left off; and began to peel the lemons
that had been under my directions set before him, together with all the
other appliances he used in making punch.

'Your employer, you know,' said Mr. Dick, jogging his arm as a gentle
reminder.

'My good sir,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'you recall me, I am obliged to
you. ' They shook hands again. 'My employer, ma'am--Mr. Heep--once did
me the favour to observe to me, that if I were not in the receipt of the
stipendiary emoluments appertaining to my engagement with him, I should
probably be a mountebank about the country, swallowing a sword-blade,
and eating the devouring element. For anything that I can perceive to
the contrary, it is still probable that my children may be reduced to
seek a livelihood by personal contortion, while Mrs. Micawber abets
their unnatural feats by playing the barrel-organ. '

Mr. Micawber, with a random but expressive flourish of his knife,
signified that these performances might be expected to take place after
he was no more; then resumed his peeling with a desperate air.

My aunt leaned her elbow on the little round table that she usually kept
beside her, and eyed him attentively. Notwithstanding the aversion with
which I regarded the idea of entrapping him into any disclosure he was
not prepared to make voluntarily, I should have taken him up at this
point, but for the strange proceedings in which I saw him engaged;
whereof his putting the lemon-peel into the kettle, the sugar into the
snuffer-tray, the spirit into the empty jug, and confidently attempting
to pour boiling water out of a candlestick, were among the most
remarkable. I saw that a crisis was at hand, and it came. He clattered
all his means and implements together, rose from his chair, pulled out
his pocket-handkerchief, and burst into tears.

'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, behind his handkerchief,
'this is an occupation, of all others, requiring an untroubled mind, and
self-respect. I cannot perform it. It is out of the question. '

'Mr. Micawber,' said I, 'what is the matter? Pray speak out. You are
among friends. '

'Among friends, sir! ' repeated Mr. Micawber; and all he had reserved
came breaking out of him. 'Good heavens, it is principally because I AM
among friends that my state of mind is what it is. What is the matter,
gentlemen? What is NOT the matter? Villainy is the matter; baseness is
the matter; deception, fraud, conspiracy, are the matter; and the name
of the whole atrocious mass is--HEEP! '

My aunt clapped her hands, and we all started up as if we were
possessed.

'The struggle is over! ' said Mr. Micawber violently gesticulating with
his pocket-handkerchief, and fairly striking out from time to time with
both arms, as if he were swimming under superhuman difficulties. 'I will
lead this life no longer. I am a wretched being, cut off from everything
that makes life tolerable. I have been under a Taboo in that infernal
scoundrel's service. Give me back my wife, give me back my family,
substitute Micawber for the petty wretch who walks about in the boots
at present on my feet, and call upon me to swallow a sword tomorrow, and
I'll do it. With an appetite! '

I never saw a man so hot in my life. I tried to calm him, that we might
come to something rational; but he got hotter and hotter, and wouldn't
hear a word.

'I'll put my hand in no man's hand,' said Mr. Micawber, gasping,
puffing, and sobbing, to that degree that he was like a man
fighting with cold water, 'until I have--blown to
fragments--the--a--detestable--serpent--HEEP! I'll partake of no
one's hospitality, until I have--a--moved Mount Vesuvius--to
eruption--on--a--the abandoned rascal--HEEP! Refreshment--a--underneath
this roof--particularly punch--would--a--choke me--unless--I
had--previously--choked the eyes--out of the head--a--of--interminable
cheat, and liar--HEEP! I--a--I'll know nobody--and--a--say
nothing--and--a--live nowhere--until I have
crushed--to--a--undiscoverable atoms--the--transcendent and immortal
hypocrite and perjurer--HEEP! '

I really had some fear of Mr. Micawber's dying on the spot. The manner
in which he struggled through these inarticulate sentences, and,
whenever he found himself getting near the name of Heep, fought his way
on to it, dashed at it in a fainting state, and brought it out with a
vehemence little less than marvellous, was frightful; but now, when
he sank into a chair, steaming, and looked at us, with every possible
colour in his face that had no business there, and an endless procession
of lumps following one another in hot haste up his throat, whence they
seemed to shoot into his forehead, he had the appearance of being in
the last extremity. I would have gone to his assistance, but he waved me
off, and wouldn't hear a word.

'No, Copperfield! --No communication--a--until--Miss
Wickfield--a--redress from wrongs inflicted by consummate
scoundrel--HEEP! ' (I am quite convinced he could not have uttered three
words, but for the amazing energy with which this word inspired him when
he felt it coming. ) 'Inviolable secret--a--from the whole world--a--no
exceptions--this day week--a--at breakfast-time--a--everybody
present--including aunt--a--and extremely friendly gentleman--to be at
the hotel at Canterbury--a--where--Mrs. Micawber and myself--Auld Lang
Syne in chorus--and--a--will expose intolerable ruffian--HEEP! No more
to say--a--or listen to persuasion--go immediately--not capable--a--bear
society--upon the track of devoted and doomed traitor--HEEP! '

With this last repetition of the magic word that had kept him going at
all, and in which he surpassed all his previous efforts, Mr. Micawber
rushed out of the house; leaving us in a state of excitement, hope, and
wonder, that reduced us to a condition little better than his own. But
even then his passion for writing letters was too strong to be resisted;
for while we were yet in the height of our excitement, hope, and wonder,
the following pastoral note was brought to me from a neighbouring
tavern, at which he had called to write it:--


'Most secret and confidential.
'MY DEAR SIR,

'I beg to be allowed to convey, through you, my apologies to your
excellent aunt for my late excitement. An explosion of a smouldering
volcano long suppressed, was the result of an internal contest more
easily conceived than described.

'I trust I rendered tolerably intelligible my appointment for the
morning of this day week, at the house of public entertainment at
Canterbury, where Mrs. Micawber and myself had once the honour of
uniting our voices to yours, in the well-known strain of the Immortal
exciseman nurtured beyond the Tweed.

'The duty done, and act of reparation performed, which can alone enable
me to contemplate my fellow mortal, I shall be known no more. I shall
simply require to be deposited in that place of universal resort, where

Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep,

'--With the plain Inscription,

'WILKINS MICAWBER. '



CHAPTER 50. Mr. PEGGOTTY'S DREAM COMES TRUE


By this time, some months had passed since our interview on the bank
of the river with Martha. I had never seen her since, but she had
communicated with Mr. Peggotty on several occasions. Nothing had come of
her zealous intervention; nor could I infer, from what he told me, that
any clue had been obtained, for a moment, to Emily's fate. I confess
that I began to despair of her recovery, and gradually to sink deeper
and deeper into the belief that she was dead.

His conviction remained unchanged. So far as I know--and I believe
his honest heart was transparent to me--he never wavered again, in his
solemn certainty of finding her. His patience never tired. And, although
I trembled for the agony it might one day be to him to have his strong
assurance shivered at a blow, there was something so religious in it, so
affectingly expressive of its anchor being in the purest depths of
his fine nature, that the respect and honour in which I held him were
exalted every day.

His was not a lazy trustfulness that hoped, and did no more. He had
been a man of sturdy action all his life, and he knew that in all things
wherein he wanted help he must do his own part faithfully, and help
himself. I have known him set out in the night, on a misgiving that the
light might not be, by some accident, in the window of the old boat,
and walk to Yarmouth. I have known him, on reading something in the
newspaper that might apply to her, take up his stick, and go forth on a
journey of three--or four-score miles. He made his way by sea to Naples,
and back, after hearing the narrative to which Miss Dartle had assisted
me. All his journeys were ruggedly performed; for he was always
steadfast in a purpose of saving money for Emily's sake, when she should
be found. In all this long pursuit, I never heard him repine; I never
heard him say he was fatigued, or out of heart.

Dora had often seen him since our marriage, and was quite fond of him.
I fancy his figure before me now, standing near her sofa, with his rough
cap in his hand, and the blue eyes of my child-wife raised, with a timid
wonder, to his face. Sometimes of an evening, about twilight, when
he came to talk with me, I would induce him to smoke his pipe in the
garden, as we slowly paced to and fro together; and then, the picture
of his deserted home, and the comfortable air it used to have in my
childish eyes of an evening when the fire was burning, and the wind
moaning round it, came most vividly into my mind.

One evening, at this hour, he told me that he had found Martha waiting
near his lodging on the preceding night when he came out, and that she
had asked him not to leave London on any account, until he should have
seen her again.

'Did she tell you why? ' I inquired.

'I asked her, Mas'r Davy,' he replied, 'but it is but few words as she
ever says, and she on'y got my promise and so went away. '

'Did she say when you might expect to see her again? ' I demanded.

'No, Mas'r Davy,' he returned, drawing his hand thoughtfully down his
face. 'I asked that too; but it was more (she said) than she could
tell. '

As I had long forborne to encourage him with hopes that hung on threads,
I made no other comment on this information than that I supposed he
would see her soon. Such speculations as it engendered within me I kept
to myself, and those were faint enough.

I was walking alone in the garden, one evening, about a fortnight
afterwards. I remember that evening well. It was the second in Mr.
Micawber's week of suspense. There had been rain all day, and there was
a damp feeling in the air. The leaves were thick upon the trees, and
heavy with wet; but the rain had ceased, though the sky was still dark;
and the hopeful birds were singing cheerfully. As I walked to and fro
in the garden, and the twilight began to close around me, their little
voices were hushed; and that peculiar silence which belongs to such an
evening in the country when the lightest trees are quite still, save for
the occasional droppings from their boughs, prevailed.

There was a little green perspective of trellis-work and ivy at the side
of our cottage, through which I could see, from the garden where I was
walking, into the road before the house. I happened to turn my eyes
towards this place, as I was thinking of many things; and I saw a figure
beyond, dressed in a plain cloak. It was bending eagerly towards me, and
beckoning.

'Martha! ' said I, going to it.

'Can you come with me? ' she inquired, in an agitated whisper. 'I have
been to him, and he is not at home. I wrote down where he was to come,
and left it on his table with my own hand. They said he would not be out
long. I have tidings for him. Can you come directly? '

My answer was, to pass out at the gate immediately. She made a hasty
gesture with her hand, as if to entreat my patience and my silence,
and turned towards London, whence, as her dress betokened, she had come
expeditiously on foot.

I asked her if that were not our destination? On her motioning Yes,
with the same hasty gesture as before, I stopped an empty coach that was
coming by, and we got into it. When I asked her where the coachman was
to drive, she answered, 'Anywhere near Golden Square! And quick! '--then
shrunk into a corner, with one trembling hand before her face, and the
other making the former gesture, as if she could not bear a voice.

Now much disturbed, and dazzled with conflicting gleams of hope and
dread, I looked at her for some explanation. But seeing how strongly
she desired to remain quiet, and feeling that it was my own natural
inclination too, at such a time, I did not attempt to break the silence.
We proceeded without a word being spoken. Sometimes she glanced out of
the window, as though she thought we were going slowly, though indeed we
were going fast; but otherwise remained exactly as at first.

We alighted at one of the entrances to the Square she had mentioned,
where I directed the coach to wait, not knowing but that we might have
some occasion for it. She laid her hand on my arm, and hurried me on
to one of the sombre streets, of which there are several in that part,
where the houses were once fair dwellings in the occupation of single
families, but have, and had, long degenerated into poor lodgings let off
in rooms. Entering at the open door of one of these, and releasing my
arm, she beckoned me to follow her up the common staircase, which was
like a tributary channel to the street.

The house swarmed with inmates. As we went up, doors of rooms were
opened and people's heads put out; and we passed other people on the
stairs, who were coming down. In glancing up from the outside, before
we entered, I had seen women and children lolling at the windows over
flower-pots; and we seemed to have attracted their curiosity, for these
were principally the observers who looked out of their doors. It was a
broad panelled staircase, with massive balustrades of some dark wood;
cornices above the doors, ornamented with carved fruit and flowers; and
broad seats in the windows. But all these tokens of past grandeur
were miserably decayed and dirty; rot, damp, and age, had weakened
the flooring, which in many places was unsound and even unsafe. Some
attempts had been made, I noticed, to infuse new blood into this
dwindling frame, by repairing the costly old wood-work here and there
with common deal; but it was like the marriage of a reduced old noble to
a plebeian pauper, and each party to the ill-assorted union shrunk away
from the other. Several of the back windows on the staircase had
been darkened or wholly blocked up. In those that remained, there was
scarcely any glass; and, through the crumbling frames by which the bad
air seemed always to come in, and never to go out, I saw, through other
glassless windows, into other houses in a similar condition, and looked
giddily down into a wretched yard, which was the common dust-heap of the
mansion.

We proceeded to the top-storey of the house. Two or three times, by the
way, I thought I observed in the indistinct light the skirts of a female
figure going up before us. As we turned to ascend the last flight of
stairs between us and the roof, we caught a full view of this figure
pausing for a moment, at a door. Then it turned the handle, and went in.

'What's this! ' said Martha, in a whisper. 'She has gone into my room. I
don't know her! '

I knew her. I had recognized her with amazement, for Miss Dartle.

I said something to the effect that it was a lady whom I had seen
before, in a few words, to my conductress; and had scarcely done so,
when we heard her voice in the room, though not, from where we stood,
what she was saying. Martha, with an astonished look, repeated her
former action, and softly led me up the stairs; and then, by a little
back-door which seemed to have no lock, and which she pushed open with a
touch, into a small empty garret with a low sloping roof, little better
than a cupboard. Between this, and the room she had called hers,
there was a small door of communication, standing partly open. Here we
stopped, breathless with our ascent, and she placed her hand lightly on
my lips. I could only see, of the room beyond, that it was pretty large;
that there was a bed in it; and that there were some common pictures of
ships upon the walls. I could not see Miss Dartle, or the person whom
we had heard her address. Certainly, my companion could not, for my
position was the best. A dead silence prevailed for some moments. Martha
kept one hand on my lips, and raised the other in a listening attitude.

'It matters little to me her not being at home,' said Rosa Dartle
haughtily, 'I know nothing of her. It is you I come to see. '

'Me? ' replied a soft voice.

At the sound of it, a thrill went through my frame. For it was Emily's!

'Yes,' returned Miss Dartle, 'I have come to look at you. What? You are
not ashamed of the face that has done so much? '

The resolute and unrelenting hatred of her tone, its cold stern
sharpness, and its mastered rage, presented her before me, as if I had
seen her standing in the light. I saw the flashing black eyes, and the
passion-wasted figure; and I saw the scar, with its white track cutting
through her lips, quivering and throbbing as she spoke.

'I have come to see,' she said, 'James Steerforth's fancy; the girl who
ran away with him, and is the town-talk of the commonest people of her
native place; the bold, flaunting, practised companion of persons like
James Steerforth. I want to know what such a thing is like. '

There was a rustle, as if the unhappy girl, on whom she heaped these
taunts, ran towards the door, and the speaker swiftly interposed herself
before it. It was succeeded by a moment's pause.

When Miss Dartle spoke again, it was through her set teeth, and with a
stamp upon the ground.

'Stay there! ' she said, 'or I'll proclaim you to the house, and the
whole street! If you try to evade me, I'll stop you, if it's by the
hair, and raise the very stones against you! '

A frightened murmur was the only reply that reached my ears. A silence
succeeded. I did not know what to do. Much as I desired to put an end to
the interview, I felt that I had no right to present myself; that it was
for Mr. Peggotty alone to see her and recover her. Would he never come?
I thought impatiently.

'So! ' said Rosa Dartle, with a contemptuous laugh, 'I see her at last!
Why, he was a poor creature to be taken by that delicate mock-modesty,
and that hanging head! '

'Oh, for Heaven's sake, spare me! ' exclaimed Emily. 'Whoever you are,
you know my pitiable story, and for Heaven's sake spare me, if you would
be spared yourself! '

'If I would be spared! ' returned the other fiercely; 'what is there in
common between US, do you think! '

'Nothing but our sex,' said Emily, with a burst of tears.

'And that,' said Rosa Dartle, 'is so strong a claim, preferred by one
so infamous, that if I had any feeling in my breast but scorn and
abhorrence of you, it would freeze it up. Our sex! You are an honour to
our sex! '

'I have deserved this,' said Emily, 'but it's dreadful! Dear, dear lady,
think what I have suffered, and how I am fallen! Oh, Martha, come back!