No More Learning

I suppose I expressed it, somehow; for after she had
looked at me attentively for a little while, she appeared to understand,
and replied in a low tone:

'I know you will do as I ask you, if I tell you I am very earnest in
it. Go away now, Trotwood, for my sake, and ask your friends to take you
home. '

She had so far improved me, for the time, that though I was angry with
her, I felt ashamed, and with a short 'Goori! ' (which I intended for
'Good night! ') got up and went away. They followed, and I stepped at
once out of the box-door into my bedroom, where only Steerforth was with
me, helping me to undress, and where I was by turns telling him that
Agnes was my sister, and adjuring him to bring the corkscrew, that I
might open another bottle of wine.

How somebody, lying in my bed, lay saying and doing all this over again,
at cross purposes, in a feverish dream all night--the bed a rocking sea
that was never still! How, as that somebody slowly settled down into
myself, did I begin to parch, and feel as if my outer covering of skin
were a hard board; my tongue the bottom of an empty kettle, furred with
long service, and burning up over a slow fire; the palms of my hands,
hot plates of metal which no ice could cool!

But the agony of mind, the remorse, and shame I felt when I became
conscious next day! My horror of having committed a thousand offences I
had forgotten, and which nothing could ever expiate--my recollection
of that indelible look which Agnes had given me--the torturing
impossibility of communicating with her, not knowing, Beast that I was,
how she came to be in London, or where she stayed--my disgust of
the very sight of the room where the revel had been held--my racking
head--the smell of smoke, the sight of glasses, the impossibility of
going out, or even getting up! Oh, what a day it was!

Oh, what an evening, when I sat down by my fire to a basin of mutton
broth, dimpled all over with fat, and thought I was going the way of my
predecessor, and should succeed to his dismal story as well as to his
chambers, and had half a mind to rush express to Dover and reveal
all! What an evening, when Mrs. Crupp, coming in to take away the
broth-basin, produced one kidney on a cheese-plate as the entire remains
of yesterday's feast, and I was really inclined to fall upon her nankeen
breast and say, in heartfelt penitence, 'Oh, Mrs. Crupp, Mrs. Crupp,
never mind the broken meats! I am very miserable! '--only that I doubted,
even at that pass, if Mrs. Crupp were quite the sort of woman to confide
in!


CHAPTER 25. GOOD AND BAD ANGELS


I was going out at my door on the morning after that deplorable day of
headache, sickness, and repentance, with an odd confusion in my mind
relative to the date of my dinner-party, as if a body of Titans had
taken an enormous lever and pushed the day before yesterday some months
back, when I saw a ticket-porter coming upstairs, with a letter in his
hand. He was taking his time about his errand, then; but when he saw me
on the top of the staircase, looking at him over the banisters, he swung
into a trot, and came up panting as if he had run himself into a state
of exhaustion.

'T. Copperfield, Esquire,' said the ticket-porter, touching his hat with
his little cane.

I could scarcely lay claim to the name: I was so disturbed by the
conviction that the letter came from Agnes. However, I told him I was T.
Copperfield, Esquire, and he believed it, and gave me the letter, which
he said required an answer. I shut him out on the landing to wait for
the answer, and went into my chambers again, in such a nervous state
that I was fain to lay the letter down on my breakfast table, and
familiarize myself with the outside of it a little, before I could
resolve to break the seal.

I found, when I did open it, that it was a very kind note, containing
no reference to my condition at the theatre. All it said was, 'My dear
Trotwood. I am staying at the house of papa's agent, Mr. Waterbrook, in
Ely Place, Holborn. Will you come and see me today, at any time you like
to appoint? Ever yours affectionately, AGNES. '

It took me such a long time to write an answer at all to my
satisfaction, that I don't know what the ticket-porter can have
thought, unless he thought I was learning to write. I must have written
half-a-dozen answers at least. I began one, 'How can I ever hope,
my dear Agnes, to efface from your remembrance the disgusting
impression'--there I didn't like it, and then I tore it up. I began
another, 'Shakespeare has observed, my dear Agnes, how strange it is
that a man should put an enemy into his mouth'--that reminded me of
Markham, and it got no farther. I even tried poetry. I began one note,
in a six-syllable line, 'Oh, do not remember'--but that associated
itself with the fifth of November, and became an absurdity. After many
attempts, I wrote, 'My dear Agnes. Your letter is like you, and what
could I say of it that would be higher praise than that? I will come at
four o'clock. Affectionately and sorrowfully, T. C. ' With this missive
(which I was in twenty minds at once about recalling, as soon as it was
out of my hands), the ticket-porter at last departed.

If the day were half as tremendous to any other professional gentleman
in Doctors' Commons as it was to me, I sincerely believe he made some
expiation for his share in that rotten old ecclesiastical cheese.
Although I left the office at half past three, and was prowling about
the place of appointment within a few minutes afterwards, the appointed
time was exceeded by a full quarter of an hour, according to the
clock of St. Andrew's, Holborn, before I could muster up sufficient
desperation to pull the private bell-handle let into the left-hand
door-post of Mr. Waterbrook's house.

The professional business of Mr. Waterbrook's establishment was done on
the ground-floor, and the genteel business (of which there was a good
deal) in the upper part of the building. I was shown into a pretty but
rather close drawing-room, and there sat Agnes, netting a purse.

She looked so quiet and good, and reminded me so strongly of my airy
fresh school days at Canterbury, and the sodden, smoky, stupid wretch
I had been the other night, that, nobody being by, I yielded to my
self-reproach and shame, and--in short, made a fool of myself. I cannot
deny that I shed tears. To this hour I am undecided whether it was upon
the whole the wisest thing I could have done, or the most ridiculous.

'If it had been anyone but you, Agnes,' said I, turning away my head, 'I
should not have minded it half so much. But that it should have been you
who saw me! I almost wish I had been dead, first. '

She put her hand--its touch was like no other hand--upon my arm for a
moment; and I felt so befriended and comforted, that I could not help
moving it to my lips, and gratefully kissing it.

'Sit down,' said Agnes, cheerfully. 'Don't be unhappy, Trotwood. If you
cannot confidently trust me, whom will you trust? '

'Ah, Agnes! ' I returned. 'You are my good Angel! '

She smiled rather sadly, I thought, and shook her head.

'Yes, Agnes, my good Angel! Always my good Angel! '

'If I were, indeed, Trotwood,' she returned, 'there is one thing that I
should set my heart on very much. '

I looked at her inquiringly; but already with a foreknowledge of her
meaning.

'On warning you,' said Agnes, with a steady glance, 'against your bad
Angel. '

'My dear Agnes,' I began, 'if you mean Steerforth--'

'I do, Trotwood,' she returned. 'Then, Agnes, you wrong him very much.
He my bad Angel, or anyone's! He, anything but a guide, a support, and
a friend to me! My dear Agnes! Now, is it not unjust, and unlike you, to
judge him from what you saw of me the other night? '

'I do not judge him from what I saw of you the other night,' she quietly
replied.

'From what, then? '

'From many things--trifles in themselves, but they do not seem to me to
be so, when they are put together. I judge him, partly from your account
of him, Trotwood, and your character, and the influence he has over
you. '

There was always something in her modest voice that seemed to touch a
chord within me, answering to that sound alone. It was always earnest;
but when it was very earnest, as it was now, there was a thrill in it
that quite subdued me. I sat looking at her as she cast her eyes down on
her work; I sat seeming still to listen to her; and Steerforth, in spite
of all my attachment to him, darkened in that tone.

'It is very bold in me,' said Agnes, looking up again, 'who have lived
in such seclusion, and can know so little of the world, to give you my
advice so confidently, or even to have this strong opinion. But I know
in what it is engendered, Trotwood,--in how true a remembrance of our
having grown up together, and in how true an interest in all relating
to you. It is that which makes me bold. I am certain that what I say is
right. I am quite sure it is. I feel as if it were someone else speaking
to you, and not I, when I caution you that you have made a dangerous
friend. '

Again I looked at her, again I listened to her after she was silent, and
again his image, though it was still fixed in my heart, darkened.

'I am not so unreasonable as to expect,' said Agnes, resuming her usual
tone, after a little while, 'that you will, or that you can, at once,
change any sentiment that has become a conviction to you; least of all
a sentiment that is rooted in your trusting disposition. You ought not
hastily to do that. I only ask you, Trotwood, if you ever think of me--I
mean,' with a quiet smile, for I was going to interrupt her, and she
knew why, 'as often as you think of me--to think of what I have said. Do
you forgive me for all this? '

'I will forgive you, Agnes,' I replied, 'when you come to do Steerforth
justice, and to like him as well as I do. '

'Not until then? ' said Agnes.

I saw a passing shadow on her face when I made this mention of him, but
she returned my smile, and we were again as unreserved in our mutual
confidence as of old.

'And when, Agnes,' said I, 'will you forgive me the other night? '

'When I recall it,' said Agnes.

She would have dismissed the subject so, but I was too full of it to
allow that, and insisted on telling her how it happened that I had
disgraced myself, and what chain of accidental circumstances had had the
theatre for its final link. It was a great relief to me to do this, and
to enlarge on the obligation that I owed to Steerforth for his care of
me when I was unable to take care of myself.

'You must not forget,' said Agnes, calmly changing the conversation as
soon as I had concluded, 'that you are always to tell me, not only when
you fall into trouble, but when you fall in love. Who has succeeded to
Miss Larkins, Trotwood? '

'No one, Agnes. '

'Someone, Trotwood,' said Agnes, laughing, and holding up her finger.

'No, Agnes, upon my word! There is a lady, certainly, at Mrs.
Steerforth's house, who is very clever, and whom I like to talk to--Miss
Dartle--but I don't adore her. '

Agnes laughed again at her own penetration, and told me that if I were
faithful to her in my confidence she thought she should keep a little
register of my violent attachments, with the date, duration, and
termination of each, like the table of the reigns of the kings and
queens, in the History of England. Then she asked me if I had seen
Uriah.

'Uriah Heep? ' said I. 'No. Is he in London? '

'He comes to the office downstairs, every day,' returned Agnes. 'He
was in London a week before me. I am afraid on disagreeable business,
Trotwood. '

'On some business that makes you uneasy, Agnes, I see,' said I. 'What
can that be? '

Agnes laid aside her work, and replied, folding her hands upon one
another, and looking pensively at me out of those beautiful soft eyes of
hers:

'I believe he is going to enter into partnership with papa. '

'What? Uriah? That mean, fawning fellow, worm himself into such
promotion! ' I cried, indignantly. 'Have you made no remonstrance about
it, Agnes? Consider what a connexion it is likely to be. You must speak
out. You must not allow your father to take such a mad step. You must
prevent it, Agnes, while there's time. '

Still looking at me, Agnes shook her head while I was speaking, with a
faint smile at my warmth: and then replied:

'You remember our last conversation about papa? It was not long after
that--not more than two or three days--when he gave me the first
intimation of what I tell you. It was sad to see him struggling between
his desire to represent it to me as a matter of choice on his part,
and his inability to conceal that it was forced upon him. I felt very
sorry. '

'Forced upon him, Agnes! Who forces it upon him? '

'Uriah,' she replied, after a moment's hesitation, 'has made himself
indispensable to papa. He is subtle and watchful. He has mastered papa's
weaknesses, fostered them, and taken advantage of them, until--to say
all that I mean in a word, Trotwood,--until papa is afraid of him. '

There was more that she might have said; more that she knew, or that she
suspected; I clearly saw. I could not give her pain by asking what it
was, for I knew that she withheld it from me, to spare her father. It
had long been going on to this, I was sensible: yes, I could not but
feel, on the least reflection, that it had been going on to this for a
long time. I remained silent.

'His ascendancy over papa,' said Agnes, 'is very great. He professes
humility and gratitude--with truth, perhaps: I hope so--but his position
is really one of power, and I fear he makes a hard use of his power. '

I said he was a hound, which, at the moment, was a great satisfaction to
me.

'At the time I speak of, as the time when papa spoke to me,' pursued
Agnes, 'he had told papa that he was going away; that he was very sorry,
and unwilling to leave, but that he had better prospects. Papa was very
much depressed then, and more bowed down by care than ever you or I have
seen him; but he seemed relieved by this expedient of the partnership,
though at the same time he seemed hurt by it and ashamed of it. '

'And how did you receive it, Agnes? '

'I did, Trotwood,' she replied, 'what I hope was right. Feeling sure
that it was necessary for papa's peace that the sacrifice should be
made, I entreated him to make it. I said it would lighten the load
of his life--I hope it will! --and that it would give me increased
opportunities of being his companion. Oh, Trotwood! ' cried Agnes,
putting her hands before her face, as her tears started on it, 'I almost
feel as if I had been papa's enemy, instead of his loving child. For
I know how he has altered, in his devotion to me. I know how he has
narrowed the circle of his sympathies and duties, in the concentration
of his whole mind upon me. I know what a multitude of things he has shut
out for my sake, and how his anxious thoughts of me have shadowed his
life, and weakened his strength and energy, by turning them always upon
one idea. If I could ever set this right! If I could ever work out his
restoration, as I have so innocently been the cause of his decline! '

I had never before seen Agnes cry. I had seen tears in her eyes when I
had brought new honours home from school, and I had seen them there when
we last spoke about her father, and I had seen her turn her gentle head
aside when we took leave of one another; but I had never seen her grieve
like this. It made me so sorry that I could only say, in a foolish,
helpless manner, 'Pray, Agnes, don't! Don't, my dear sister! '

But Agnes was too superior to me in character and purpose, as I know
well now, whatever I might know or not know then, to be long in need of
my entreaties. The beautiful, calm manner, which makes her so different
in my remembrance from everybody else, came back again, as if a cloud
had passed from a serene sky.

'We are not likely to remain alone much longer,' said Agnes, 'and while
I have an opportunity, let me earnestly entreat you, Trotwood, to be
friendly to Uriah. Don't repel him. Don't resent (as I think you have a
general disposition to do) what may be uncongenial to you in him. He may
not deserve it, for we know no certain ill of him. In any case, think
first of papa and me! '

Agnes had no time to say more, for the room door opened, and Mrs.
Waterbrook, who was a large lady--or who wore a large dress: I don't
exactly know which, for I don't know which was dress and which was
lady--came sailing in. I had a dim recollection of having seen her
at the theatre, as if I had seen her in a pale magic lantern; but she
appeared to remember me perfectly, and still to suspect me of being in a
state of intoxication.

Finding by degrees, however, that I was sober, and (I hope) that I was
a modest young gentleman, Mrs. Waterbrook softened towards me
considerably, and inquired, firstly, if I went much into the parks,
and secondly, if I went much into society. On my replying to both these
questions in the negative, it occurred to me that I fell again in her
good opinion; but she concealed the fact gracefully, and invited me to
dinner next day. I accepted the invitation, and took my leave, making a
call on Uriah in the office as I went out, and leaving a card for him in
his absence.

When I went to dinner next day, and on the street door being opened,
plunged into a vapour-bath of haunch of mutton, I divined that I was
not the only guest, for I immediately identified the ticket-porter in
disguise, assisting the family servant, and waiting at the foot of the
stairs to carry up my name. He looked, to the best of his ability, when
he asked me for it confidentially, as if he had never seen me before;
but well did I know him, and well did he know me. Conscience made
cowards of us both.

I found Mr. Waterbrook to be a middle-aged gentleman, with a short
throat, and a good deal of shirt-collar, who only wanted a black nose to
be the portrait of a pug-dog. He told me he was happy to have the
honour of making my acquaintance; and when I had paid my homage to Mrs.
Waterbrook, presented me, with much ceremony, to a very awful lady in
a black velvet dress, and a great black velvet hat, whom I remember as
looking like a near relation of Hamlet's--say his aunt.

Mrs. Henry Spiker was this lady's name; and her husband was there
too: so cold a man, that his head, instead of being grey, seemed to
be sprinkled with hoar-frost. Immense deference was shown to the Henry
Spikers, male and female; which Agnes told me was on account of Mr.
Henry Spiker being solicitor to something or to somebody, I forget what
or which, remotely connected with the Treasury.

I found Uriah Heep among the company, in a suit of black, and in deep
humility. He told me, when I shook hands with him, that he was proud
to be noticed by me, and that he really felt obliged to me for my
condescension. I could have wished he had been less obliged to me, for
he hovered about me in his gratitude all the rest of the evening; and
whenever I said a word to Agnes, was sure, with his shadowless eyes and
cadaverous face, to be looking gauntly down upon us from behind.

There were other guests--all iced for the occasion, as it struck me,
like the wine. But there was one who attracted my attention before he
came in, on account of my hearing him announced as Mr. Traddles! My mind
flew back to Salem House; and could it be Tommy, I thought, who used to
draw the skeletons!

I looked for Mr. Traddles with unusual interest.
He was a sober,
steady-looking young man of retiring manners, with a comic head of hair,
and eyes that were rather wide open; and he got into an obscure corner
so soon, that I had some difficulty in making him out. At length I had
a good view of him, and either my vision deceived me, or it was the old
unfortunate Tommy.

I made my way to Mr. Waterbrook, and said, that I believed I had the
pleasure of seeing an old schoolfellow there.

'Indeed! ' said Mr. Waterbrook, surprised. 'You are too young to have
been at school with Mr. Henry Spiker? '

'Oh, I don't mean him! ' I returned. 'I mean the gentleman named
Traddles. '

'Oh! Aye, aye! Indeed! ' said my host, with much diminished interest.
'Possibly. '

'If it's really the same person,' said I, glancing towards him, 'it
was at a place called Salem House where we were together, and he was an
excellent fellow. '

'Oh yes. Traddles is a good fellow,' returned my host nodding his head
with an air of toleration. 'Traddles is quite a good fellow. '

'It's a curious coincidence,' said I.

'It is really,' returned my host, 'quite a coincidence, that Traddles
should be here at all: as Traddles was only invited this morning, when
the place at table, intended to be occupied by Mrs. Henry Spiker's
brother, became vacant, in consequence of his indisposition. A very
gentlemanly man, Mrs. Henry Spiker's brother, Mr. Copperfield. '

I murmured an assent, which was full of feeling, considering that I
knew nothing at all about him; and I inquired what Mr. Traddles was by
profession.

'Traddles,' returned Mr. Waterbrook, 'is a young man reading for the
bar. Yes. He is quite a good fellow--nobody's enemy but his own. '

'Is he his own enemy? ' said I, sorry to hear this.

'Well,' returned Mr. Waterbrook, pursing up his mouth, and playing with
his watch-chain, in a comfortable, prosperous sort of way. 'I should say
he was one of those men who stand in their own light. Yes, I should say
he would never, for example, be worth five hundred pound. Traddles was
recommended to me by a professional friend. Oh yes. Yes. He has a kind
of talent for drawing briefs, and stating a case in writing, plainly. I
am able to throw something in Traddles's way, in the course of the year;
something--for him--considerable. Oh yes. Yes. '

I was much impressed by the extremely comfortable and satisfied manner
in which Mr. Waterbrook delivered himself of this little word 'Yes',
every now and then. There was wonderful expression in it. It completely
conveyed the idea of a man who had been born, not to say with a silver
spoon, but with a scaling-ladder, and had gone on mounting all the
heights of life one after another, until now he looked, from the top of
the fortifications, with the eye of a philosopher and a patron, on the
people down in the trenches.

My reflections on this theme were still in progress when dinner was
announced. Mr. Waterbrook went down with Hamlet's aunt. Mr. Henry Spiker
took Mrs. Waterbrook. Agnes, whom I should have liked to take myself,
was given to a simpering fellow with weak legs. Uriah, Traddles, and I,
as the junior part of the company, went down last, how we could. I was
not so vexed at losing Agnes as I might have been, since it gave me
an opportunity of making myself known to Traddles on the stairs, who
greeted me with great fervour; while Uriah writhed with such obtrusive
satisfaction and self-abasement, that I could gladly have pitched
him over the banisters. Traddles and I were separated at table, being
billeted in two remote corners: he in the glare of a red velvet lady;
I, in the gloom of Hamlet's aunt. The dinner was very long, and the
conversation was about the Aristocracy--and Blood. Mrs. Waterbrook
repeatedly told us, that if she had a weakness, it was Blood.

It occurred to me several times that we should have got on better, if we
had not been quite so genteel. We were so exceedingly genteel, that our
scope was very limited. A Mr. and Mrs. Gulpidge were of the party, who
had something to do at second-hand (at least, Mr. Gulpidge had) with
the law business of the Bank; and what with the Bank, and what with
the Treasury, we were as exclusive as the Court Circular. To mend the
matter, Hamlet's aunt had the family failing of indulging in soliloquy,
and held forth in a desultory manner, by herself, on every topic that
was introduced. These were few enough, to be sure; but as we always fell
back upon Blood, she had as wide a field for abstract speculation as her
nephew himself.

We might have been a party of Ogres, the conversation assumed such a
sanguine complexion.

'I confess I am of Mrs. Waterbrook's opinion,' said Mr. Waterbrook, with
his wine-glass at his eye. 'Other things are all very well in their way,
but give me Blood! '

'Oh! There is nothing,' observed Hamlet's aunt, 'so satisfactory to one!
There is nothing that is so much one's beau-ideal of--of all that sort
of thing, speaking generally. There are some low minds (not many, I am
happy to believe, but there are some) that would prefer to do what I
should call bow down before idols. Positively Idols! Before service,
intellect, and so on. But these are intangible points. Blood is not so.
We see Blood in a nose, and we know it. We meet with it in a chin, and
we say, "There it is! That's Blood! " It is an actual matter of fact. We
point it out. It admits of no doubt. '

The simpering fellow with the weak legs, who had taken Agnes down,
stated the question more decisively yet, I thought.

'Oh, you know, deuce take it,' said this gentleman, looking round the
board with an imbecile smile, 'we can't forego Blood, you know. We must
have Blood, you know. Some young fellows, you know, may be a little
behind their station, perhaps, in point of education and behaviour, and
may go a little wrong, you know, and get themselves and other people
into a variety of fixes--and all that--but deuce take it, it's
delightful to reflect that they've got Blood in 'em! Myself, I'd rather
at any time be knocked down by a man who had got Blood in him, than I'd
be picked up by a man who hadn't! '

This sentiment, as compressing the general question into a nutshell,
gave the utmost satisfaction, and brought the gentleman into great
notice until the ladies retired. After that, I observed that Mr.
Gulpidge and Mr. Henry Spiker, who had hitherto been very distant,
entered into a defensive alliance against us, the common enemy, and
exchanged a mysterious dialogue across the table for our defeat and
overthrow.

'That affair of the first bond for four thousand five hundred pounds has
not taken the course that was expected, Spiker,' said Mr. Gulpidge.

'Do you mean the D. of A. 's? ' said Mr. Spiker.

'The C. of B. 's! ' said Mr. Gulpidge.

Mr. Spiker raised his eyebrows, and looked much concerned.

'When the question was referred to Lord--I needn't name him,' said Mr.
Gulpidge, checking himself--

'I understand,' said Mr. Spiker, 'N. '

Mr. Gulpidge darkly nodded--'was referred to him, his answer was,
"Money, or no release. "'

'Lord bless my soul! ' cried Mr. Spiker.

"'Money, or no release,"' repeated Mr. Gulpidge, firmly. 'The next in
reversion--you understand me? '

'K. ,' said Mr. Spiker, with an ominous look.

'--K. then positively refused to sign. He was attended at Newmarket for
that purpose, and he point-blank refused to do it. '

Mr. Spiker was so interested, that he became quite stony.

'So the matter rests at this hour,' said Mr. Gulpidge, throwing himself
back in his chair. 'Our friend Waterbrook will excuse me if I forbear to
explain myself generally, on account of the magnitude of the interests
involved. '

Mr. Waterbrook was only too happy, as it appeared to me, to have such
interests, and such names, even hinted at, across his table. He assumed
an expression of gloomy intelligence (though I am persuaded he knew
no more about the discussion than I did), and highly approved of the
discretion that had been observed. Mr. Spiker, after the receipt of such
a confidence, naturally desired to favour his friend with a confidence
of his own; therefore the foregoing dialogue was succeeded by another,
in which it was Mr. Gulpidge's turn to be surprised, and that by another
in which the surprise came round to Mr. Spiker's turn again, and so on,
turn and turn about. All this time we, the outsiders, remained oppressed
by the tremendous interests involved in the conversation; and our
host regarded us with pride, as the victims of a salutary awe and
astonishment. I was very glad indeed to get upstairs to Agnes, and to
talk with her in a corner, and to introduce Traddles to her, who was
shy, but agreeable, and the same good-natured creature still. As he
was obliged to leave early, on account of going away next morning for
a month, I had not nearly so much conversation with him as I could have
wished; but we exchanged addresses, and promised ourselves the pleasure
of another meeting when he should come back to town. He was greatly
interested to hear that I knew Steerforth, and spoke of him with such
warmth that I made him tell Agnes what he thought of him. But Agnes only
looked at me the while, and very slightly shook her head when only I
observed her.

As she was not among people with whom I believed she could be very much
at home, I was almost glad to hear that she was going away within a few
days, though I was sorry at the prospect of parting from her again
so soon. This caused me to remain until all the company were gone.
Conversing with her, and hearing her sing, was such a delightful
reminder to me of my happy life in the grave old house she had made so
beautiful, that I could have remained there half the night; but, having
no excuse for staying any longer, when the lights of Mr. Waterbrook's
society were all snuffed out, I took my leave very much against my
inclination. I felt then, more than ever, that she was my better Angel;
and if I thought of her sweet face and placid smile, as though they had
shone on me from some removed being, like an Angel, I hope I thought no
harm.

I have said that the company were all gone; but I ought to have excepted
Uriah, whom I don't include in that denomination, and who had never
ceased to hover near us. He was close behind me when I went downstairs.
He was close beside me, when I walked away from the house, slowly
fitting his long skeleton fingers into the still longer fingers of a
great Guy Fawkes pair of gloves.

It was in no disposition for Uriah's company, but in remembrance of the
entreaty Agnes had made to me, that I asked him if he would come home to
my rooms, and have some coffee.

'Oh, really, Master Copperfield,' he rejoined--'I beg your pardon,
Mister Copperfield, but the other comes so natural, I don't like that
you should put a constraint upon yourself to ask a numble person like me
to your ouse. '

'There is no constraint in the case,' said I. 'Will you come? '

'I should like to, very much,' replied Uriah, with a writhe.

'Well, then, come along! ' said I.

I could not help being rather short with him, but he appeared not to
mind it. We went the nearest way, without conversing much upon the road;
and he was so humble in respect of those scarecrow gloves, that he
was still putting them on, and seemed to have made no advance in that
labour, when we got to my place.

I led him up the dark stairs, to prevent his knocking his head against
anything, and really his damp cold hand felt so like a frog in mine,
that I was tempted to drop it and run away. Agnes and hospitality
prevailed, however, and I conducted him to my fireside. When I lighted
my candles, he fell into meek transports with the room that was revealed
to him; and when I heated the coffee in an unassuming block-tin vessel
in which Mrs. Crupp delighted to prepare it (chiefly, I believe, because
it was not intended for the purpose, being a shaving-pot, and because
there was a patent invention of great price mouldering away in the
pantry), he professed so much emotion, that I could joyfully have
scalded him.

'Oh, really, Master Copperfield,--I mean Mister Copperfield,' said
Uriah, 'to see you waiting upon me is what I never could have expected!
But, one way and another, so many things happen to me which I never
could have expected, I am sure, in my umble station, that it seems
to rain blessings on my ed. You have heard something, I des-say, of a
change in my expectations, Master Copperfield,--I should say, Mister
Copperfield? '

As he sat on my sofa, with his long knees drawn up under his coffee-cup,
his hat and gloves upon the ground close to him, his spoon going softly
round and round, his shadowless red eyes, which looked as if they had
scorched their lashes off, turned towards me without looking at me, the
disagreeable dints I have formerly described in his nostrils coming and
going with his breath, and a snaky undulation pervading his frame from
his chin to his boots, I decided in my own mind that I disliked him
intensely. It made me very uncomfortable to have him for a guest, for I
was young then, and unused to disguise what I so strongly felt.

'You have heard something, I des-say, of a change in my expectations,
Master Copperfield,--I should say, Mister Copperfield? ' observed Uriah.

'Yes,' said I, 'something. '

'Ah! I thought Miss Agnes would know of it! ' he quietly returned. 'I'm
glad to find Miss Agnes knows of it. Oh, thank you, Master--Mister
Copperfield! '

I could have thrown my bootjack at him (it lay ready on the rug), for
having entrapped me into the disclosure of anything concerning Agnes,
however immaterial. But I only drank my coffee.

'What a prophet you have shown yourself, Mister Copperfield! ' pursued
Uriah. 'Dear me, what a prophet you have proved yourself to be! Don't
you remember saying to me once, that perhaps I should be a partner in
Mr. Wickfield's business, and perhaps it might be Wickfield and
Heep? You may not recollect it; but when a person is umble, Master
Copperfield, a person treasures such things up! '

'I recollect talking about it,' said I, 'though I certainly did not
think it very likely then. ' 'Oh! who would have thought it likely,
Mister Copperfield! ' returned Uriah, enthusiastically. 'I am sure I
didn't myself. I recollect saying with my own lips that I was much too
umble. So I considered myself really and truly. '

He sat, with that carved grin on his face, looking at the fire, as I
looked at him.

'But the umblest persons, Master Copperfield,' he presently resumed,
'may be the instruments of good. I am glad to think I have been the
instrument of good to Mr. Wickfield, and that I may be more so. Oh what
a worthy man he is, Mister Copperfield, but how imprudent he has been!