When I awoke in the morning I thought very much of little Em'ly, and heremotion last night, after Martha had left. I felt as if I had come intothe knowledge of those domestic weaknesses and tendernesses in a sacredconfidence, and that to disclose them, even to Steerforth, would bewrong. I had no gentler feeling towards anyone than towards thepretty creature who had been my playmate, and whom I have always beenpersuaded, and shall always be persuaded, to my dying day, I thendevotedly loved. The repetition to any ears--even to Steerforth's--ofwhat she had been unable to repress when her heart lay open to me by anaccident, I felt would be a rough deed, unworthy of myself, unworthy ofthe light of our pure childhood, which I always saw encircling her head.I made a resolution, therefore, to keep it in my own breast; and thereit gave her image a new grace.

While we were at breakfast, a letter was delivered to me from my aunt.As it contained matter on which I thought Steerforth could advise meas well as anyone, and on which I knew I should be delighted to consulthim, I resolved to make it a subject of discussion on our journey home.For the present we had enough to do, in taking leave of all our friends.Mr. Barkis was far from being the last among them, in his regret atour departure; and I believe would even have opened the box again, andsacrificed another guinea, if it would have kept us eight-and-fortyhours in Yarmouth. Peggotty and all her family were full of grief at ourgoing. The whole house of Omer and Joram turned out to bid us good-bye;and there were so many seafaring volunteers in attendance on Steerforth,when our portmanteaux went to the coach, that if we had had the baggageof a regiment with us, we should hardly have wanted porters to carry it.In a word, we departed to the regret and admiration of all concerned,and left a great many people very sorry behind US.

Do you stay long here, Littimer?' said I, as he stood waiting to see thecoach start.

'No, sir,' he replied; 'probably not very long, sir.'

'He can hardly say, just now,' observed Steerforth, carelessly. 'Heknows what he has to do, and he'll do it.'

'That I am sure he will,' said I.

Littimer touched his hat in acknowledgement of my good opinion, and Ifelt about eight years old. He touched it once more, wishing us a goodjourney; and we left him standing on the pavement, as respectable amystery as any pyramid in Egypt.

For some little time we held no conversation, Steerforth being unusuallysilent, and I being sufficiently engaged in wondering, within myself,when I should see the old places again, and what new changes mighthappen to me or them in the meanwhile. At length Steerforth, becominggay and talkative in a moment, as he could become anything he liked atany moment, pulled me by the arm:

'Find a voice, David. What about that letter you were speaking of atbreakfast?'

'Oh!' said I, taking it out of my pocket. 'It's from my aunt.'

'And what does she say, requiring consideration?'

'Why, she reminds me, Steerforth,' said I, 'that I came out on thisexpedition to look about me, and to think a little.'

'Which, of course, you have done?'

'Indeed I can't say I have, particularly. To tell you the truth, I amafraid I have forgotten it.'

'Well! look about you now, and make up for your negligence,' saidSteerforth. 'Look to the right, and you'll see a flat country, with agood deal of marsh in it; look to the left, and you'll see the same.Look to the front, and you'll find no difference; look to the rear,and there it is still.' I laughed, and replied that I saw no suitableprofession in the whole prospect; which was perhaps to be attributed toits flatness.

'What says our aunt on the subject?' inquired Steerforth, glancing atthe letter in my hand. 'Does she suggest anything?'

'Why, yes,' said I. 'She asks me, here, if I think I should like to be aproctor? What do you think of it?'

'Well, I don't know,' replied Steerforth, coolly. 'You may as well dothat as anything else, I suppose?'

I could not help laughing again, at his balancing all callings andprofessions so equally; and I told him so.

'What is a proctor, Steerforth?' said I.

'Why, he is a sort of monkish attorney,' replied Steerforth. 'He is, tosome faded courts held in Doctors' Commons,--a lazy old nook near St.Paul's Churchyard--what solicitors are to the courts of law and equity.He is a functionary whose existence, in the natural course of things,would have terminated about two hundred years ago. I can tell you bestwhat he is, by telling you what Doctors' Commons is. It's alittle out-of-the-way place, where they administer what is calledecclesiastical law, and play all kinds of tricks with obsolete oldmonsters of acts of Parliament, which three-fourths of the world knownothing about, and the other fourth supposes to have been dug up, ina fossil state, in the days of the Edwards. It's a place that has anancient monopoly in suits about people's wills and people's marriages,and disputes among ships and boats.'

'Nonsense, Steerforth!' I exclaimed. 'You don't mean to say that thereis any affinity between nautical matters and ecclesiastical matters?'

'I don't, indeed, my dear boy,' he returned; 'but I mean to say thatthey are managed and decided by the same set of people, down in thatsame Doctors' Commons. You shall go there one day, and find themblundering through half the nautical terms in Young's Dictionary,apropos of the "Nancy" having run down the "Sarah Jane", or Mr. Peggottyand the Yarmouth boatmen having put off in a gale of wind with an anchorand cable to the "Nelson" Indiaman in distress; and you shall go thereanother day, and find them deep in the evidence, pro and con, respectinga clergyman who has misbehaved himself; and you shall find the judgein the nautical case, the advocate in the clergyman's case, orcontrariwise. They are like actors: now a man's a judge, and now he isnot a judge; now he's one thing, now he's another; now he's somethingelse, change and change about; but it's always a very pleasant,profitable little affair of private theatricals, presented to anuncommonly select audience.'

'But advocates and proctors are not one and the same?' said I, a littlepuzzled. 'Are they?'

'No,' returned Steerforth, 'the advocates are civilians--men who havetaken a doctor's degree at college--which is the first reason of myknowing anything about it. The proctors employ the advocates. Both getvery comfortable fees, and altogether they make a mighty snug littleparty. On the whole, I would recommend you to take to Doctors' Commonskindly, David. They plume them-selves on their gentility there, I cantell you, if that's any satisfaction.'

I made allowance for Steerforth's light way of treating the subject,and, considering it with reference to the staid air of gravity andantiquity which I associated with that 'lazy old nook near St. Paul'sChurchyard', did not feel indisposed towards my aunt's suggestion; whichshe left to my free decision, making no scruple of telling me that ithad occurred to her, on her lately visiting her own proctor in Doctors'Commons for the purpose of settling her will in my favour.

'That's a laudable proceeding on the part of our aunt, at all events,'said Steerforth, when I mentioned it; 'and one deserving of allencouragement. Daisy, my advice is that you take kindly to Doctors'Commons.'

I quite made up my mind to do so. I then told Steerforth that my auntwas in town awaiting me (as I found from her letter), and that she hadtaken lodgings for a week at a kind of private hotel at Lincoln's InnFields, where there was a stone staircase, and a convenient door inthe roof; my aunt being firmly persuaded that every house in London wasgoing to be burnt down every night.

We achieved the rest of our journey pleasantly, sometimes recurring toDoctors' Commons, and anticipating the distant days when I should be aproctor there, which Steerforth pictured in a variety of humorous andwhimsical lights, that made us both merry. When we came to our journey'send, he went home, engaging to call upon me next day but one; and Idrove to Lincoln's Inn Fields, where I found my aunt up, and waitingsupper.

If I had been round the world since we parted, we could hardly have beenbetter pleased to meet again. My aunt cried outright as she embraced me;and said, pretending to laugh, that if my poor mother had been alive,that silly little creature would have shed tears, she had no doubt.

'So you have left Mr. Dick behind, aunt?' said I. 'I am sorry for that.Ah, Janet, how do you do?'

As Janet curtsied, hoping I was well, I observed my aunt's visagelengthen very much.

'I am sorry for it, too,' said my aunt, rubbing her nose. 'I have hadno peace of mind, Trot, since I have been here.' Before I could ask why,she told me.

'I am convinced,' said my aunt, laying her hand with melancholy firmnesson the table, 'that Dick's character is not a character to keep thedonkeys off. I am confident he wants strength of purpose. I ought tohave left Janet at home, instead, and then my mind might perhaps havebeen at ease. If ever there was a donkey trespassing on my green,' saidmy aunt, with emphasis, 'there was one this afternoon at four o'clock.A cold feeling came over me from head to foot, and I know it was adonkey!'

I tried to comfort her on this point, but she rejected consolation.

'It was a donkey,' said my aunt; 'and it was the one with the stumpytail which that Murdering sister of a woman rode, when she came to myhouse.' This had been, ever since, the only name my aunt knew for MissMurdstone. 'If there is any Donkey in Dover, whose audacity it is harderto me to bear than another's, that,' said my aunt, striking the table,'is the animal!'

Janet ventured to suggest that my aunt might be disturbing herselfunnecessarily, and that she believed the donkey in question was thenengaged in the sand-and-gravel line of business, and was not availablefor purposes of trespass. But my aunt wouldn't hear of it.

Supper was comfortably served and hot, though my aunt's rooms were veryhigh up--whether that she might have more stone stairs for her money, ormight be nearer to the door in the roof, I don't know--and consisted ofa roast fowl, a steak, and some vegetables, to all of which I did amplejustice, and which were all excellent. But my aunt had her own ideasconcerning London provision, and ate but little.

'I suppose this unfortunate fowl was born and brought up in a cellar,'said my aunt, 'and never took the air except on a hackney coach-stand. Ihope the steak may be beef, but I don't believe it. Nothing's genuine inthe place, in my opinion, but the dirt.'

'Don't you think the fowl may have come out of the country, aunt?' Ihinted.

'Certainly not,' returned my aunt. 'It would be no pleasure to a Londontradesman to sell anything which was what he pretended it was.'

I did not venture to controvert this opinion, but I made a good supper,which it greatly satisfied her to see me do. When the table was cleared,Janet assisted her to arrange her hair, to put on her nightcap, whichwas of a smarter construction than usual ('in case of fire', my auntsaid), and to fold her gown back over her knees, these being her usualpreparations for warming herself before going to bed. I then made her,according to certain established regulations from which no deviation,however slight, could ever be permitted, a glass of hot wine andwater, and a slice of toast cut into long thin strips. With theseaccompaniments we were left alone to finish the evening, my aunt sittingopposite to me drinking her wine and water; soaking her strips of toastin it, one by one, before eating them; and looking benignantly on me,from among the borders of her nightcap.

'Well, Trot,' she began, 'what do you think of the proctor plan? Or haveyou not begun to think about it yet?'

'I have thought a good deal about it, my dear aunt, and I have talked agood deal about it with Steerforth. I like it very much indeed. I likeit exceedingly.'

'Come!' said my aunt. 'That's cheering!'

'I have only one difficulty, aunt.'

'Say what it is, Trot,' she returned.

'Why, I want to ask, aunt, as this seems, from what I understand, tobe a limited profession, whether my entrance into it would not be veryexpensive?'

'It will cost,' returned my aunt, 'to article you, just a thousandpounds.'

'Now, my dear aunt,' said I, drawing my chair nearer, 'I am uneasy inmy mind about that. It's a large sum of money. You have expended agreat deal on my education, and have always been as liberal to me in allthings as it was possible to be. You have been the soul of generosity.Surely there are some ways in which I might begin life with hardly anyoutlay, and yet begin with a good hope of getting on by resolution andexertion. Are you sure that it would not be better to try that course?Are you certain that you can afford to part with so much money, and thatit is right that it should be so expended? I only ask you, my secondmother, to consider. Are you certain?'

My aunt finished eating the piece of toast on which she was thenengaged, looking me full in the face all the while; and then settingher glass on the chimney-piece, and folding her hands upon her foldedskirts, replied as follows:

'Trot, my child, if I have any object in life, it is to provide foryour being a good, a sensible, and a happy man. I am bent upon it--so isDick. I should like some people that I know to hear Dick's conversationon the subject. Its sagacity is wonderful. But no one knows theresources of that man's intellect, except myself!'

She stopped for a moment to take my hand between hers, and went on:

'It's in vain, Trot, to recall the past, unless it works some influenceupon the present. Perhaps I might have been better friends with yourpoor father. Perhaps I might have been better friends with that poorchild your mother, even after your sister Betsey Trotwood disappointedme. When you came to me, a little runaway boy, all dusty and way-worn,perhaps I thought so. From that time until now, Trot, you have ever beena credit to me and a pride and a pleasure. I have no other claim uponmy means; at least'--here to my surprise she hesitated, and wasconfused--'no, I have no other claim upon my means--and you are myadopted child. Only be a loving child to me in my age, and bear with mywhims and fancies; and you will do more for an old woman whose prime oflife was not so happy or conciliating as it might have been, than everthat old woman did for you.'

It was the first time I had heard my aunt refer to her past history.There was a magnanimity in her quiet way of doing so, and of dismissingit, which would have exalted her in my respect and affection, ifanything could.

'All is agreed and understood between us, now, Trot,' said my aunt,'and we need talk of this no more. Give me a kiss, and we'll go to theCommons after breakfast tomorrow.'

We had a long chat by the fire before we went to bed. I slept in a roomon the same floor with my aunt's, and was a little disturbed in thecourse of the night by her knocking at my door as often as she wasagitated by a distant sound of hackney-coaches or market-carts, andinquiring, 'if I heard the engines?' But towards morning she sleptbetter, and suffered me to do so too.

At about mid-day, we set out for the office of Messrs Spenlow andJorkins, in Doctors' Commons. My aunt, who had this other generalopinion in reference to London, that every man she saw was a pickpocket,gave me her purse to carry for her, which had ten guineas in it and somesilver.

We made a pause at the toy shop in Fleet Street, to see the giants ofSaint Dunstan's strike upon the bells--we had timed our going, so as tocatch them at it, at twelve o'clock--and then went on towards LudgateHill, and St. Paul's Churchyard. We were crossing to the former place,when I found that my aunt greatly accelerated her speed, and lookedfrightened. I observed, at the same time, that a lowering ill-dressedman who had stopped and stared at us in passing, a little before, wascoming so close after us as to brush against her.

'Trot! My dear Trot!' cried my aunt, in a terrified whisper, andpressing my arm. 'I don't know what I am to do.'

'Don't be alarmed,' said I. 'There's nothing to be afraid of. Step intoa shop, and I'll soon get rid of this fellow.'

'No, no, child!' she returned. 'Don't speak to him for the world. Ientreat, I order you!'

'Good Heaven, aunt!' said I. 'He is nothing but a sturdy beggar.'

'You don't know what he is!' replied my aunt. 'You don't know who he is!You don't know what you say!'

We had stopped in an empty door-way, while this was passing, and he hadstopped too.

'Don't look at him!' said my aunt, as I turned my head indignantly, 'butget me a coach, my dear, and wait for me in St. Paul's Churchyard.'

'Wait for you?' I replied.

'Yes,' rejoined my aunt. 'I must go alone. I must go with him.'

'With him, aunt? This man?'

'I am in my senses,' she replied, 'and I tell you I must. Get meacoach!'

However much astonished I might be, I was sensible that I had no rightto refuse compliance with such a peremptory command. I hurried away afew paces, and called a hackney-chariot which was passing empty. Almostbefore I could let down the steps, my aunt sprang in, I don't know how,and the man followed. She waved her hand to me to go away, so earnestly,that, all confounded as I was, I turned from them at once. In doing so,I heard her say to the coachman, 'Drive anywhere! Drive straight on!'and presently the chariot passed me, going up the hill.

What Mr. Dick had told me, and what I had supposed to be a delusion ofhis, now came into my mind. I could not doubt that this person was theperson of whom he had made such mysterious mention, though what thenature of his hold upon my aunt could possibly be, I was quite unableto imagine. After half an hour's cooling in the churchyard, I saw thechariot coming back. The driver stopped beside me, and my aunt wassitting in it alone.

She had not yet sufficiently recovered from her agitation to be quiteprepared for the visit we had to make. She desired me to get into thechariot, and to tell the coachman to drive slowly up and down a littlewhile. She said no more, except, 'My dear child, never ask me whatit was, and don't refer to it,' until she had perfectly regained hercomposure, when she told me she was quite herself now, and we might getout. On her giving me her purse to pay the driver, I found that all theguineas were gone, and only the loose silver remained.

Doctors' Commons was approached by a little low archway. Before we hadtaken many paces down the street beyond it, the noise of the city seemedto melt, as if by magic, into a softened distance. A few dull courtsand narrow ways brought us to the sky-lighted offices of Spenlow andJorkins; in the vestibule of which temple, accessible to pilgrimswithout the ceremony of knocking, three or four clerks were at work ascopyists. One of these, a little dry man, sitting by himself, who worea stiff brown wig that looked as if it were made of gingerbread, rose toreceive my aunt, and show us into Mr. Spenlow's room.

'Mr. Spenlow's in Court, ma'am,' said the dry man; 'it's an Arches day;but it's close by, and I'll send for him directly.'

As we were left to look about us while Mr. Spenlow was fetched, Iavailed myself of the opportunity. The furniture of the room wasold-fashioned and dusty; and the green baize on the top of thewriting-table had lost all its colour, and was as withered and pale asan old pauper. There were a great many bundles of papers on it, someendorsed as Allegations, and some (to my surprise) as Libels, and someas being in the Consistory Court, and some in the Arches Court, and somein the Prerogative Court, and some in the Admiralty Court, and some inthe Delegates' Court; giving me occasion to wonder much, how many Courtsthere might be in the gross, and how long it would take to understandthem all. Besides these, there were sundry immense manuscript Booksof Evidence taken on affidavit, strongly bound, and tied together inmassive sets, a set to each cause, as if every cause were a history inten or twenty volumes. All this looked tolerably expensive, I thought,and gave me an agreeable notion of a proctor's business. I was castingmy eyes with increasing complacency over these and many similar objects,when hasty footsteps were heard in the room outside, and Mr. Spenlow,in a black gown trimmed with white fur, came hurrying in, taking off hishat as he came.

He was a little light-haired gentleman, with undeniable boots, and thestiffest of white cravats and shirt-collars. He was buttoned up, mightytrim and tight, and must have taken a great deal of pains with hiswhiskers, which were accurately curled. His gold watch-chain was somassive, that a fancy came across me, that he ought to have a sinewygolden arm, to draw it out with, like those which are put up over thegoldbeaters' shops. He was got up with such care, and was so stiff, thathe could hardly bend himself; being obliged, when he glanced at somepapers on his desk, after sitting down in his chair, to move his wholebody, from the bottom of his spine, like Punch.

I had previously been presented by my aunt, and had been courteouslyreceived. He now said:

'And so, Mr. Copperfield, you think of entering into our profession?I casually mentioned to Miss Trotwood, when I had the pleasure of aninterview with her the other day,'--with another inclination of hisbody--Punch again--'that there was a vacancy here. Miss Trotwood wasgood enough to mention that she had a nephew who was her peculiar care,and for whom she was seeking to provide genteelly in life. Thatnephew, I believe, I have now the pleasure of'--Punch again. I bowed myacknowledgements, and said, my aunt had mentioned to me that there wasthat opening, and that I believed I should like it very much. That I wasstrongly inclined to like it, and had taken immediately to the proposal.That I could not absolutely pledge myself to like it, until I knewsomething more about it. That although it was little else than a matterof form, I presumed I should have an opportunity of trying how I likedit, before I bound myself to it irrevocably.

'Oh surely! surely!' said Mr. Spenlow. 'We always, in this house,propose a month--an initiatory month. I should be happy, myself, topropose two months--three--an indefinite period, in fact--but I have apartner. Mr. Jorkins.'

'And the premium, sir,' I returned, 'is a thousand pounds?'

'And the premium, Stamp included, is a thousand pounds,' said Mr.Spenlow. 'As I have mentioned to Miss Trotwood, I am actuated by nomercenary considerations; few men are less so, I believe; but Mr.Jorkins has his opinions on these subjects, and I am bound to respectMr. Jorkins's opinions. Mr. Jorkins thinks a thousand pounds too little,in short.'

'I suppose, sir,' said I, still desiring to spare my aunt, 'that it isnot the custom here, if an articled clerk were particularly useful,and made himself a perfect master of his profession'--I could not helpblushing, this looked so like praising myself--'I suppose it is not thecustom, in the later years of his time, to allow him any--'

Mr. Spenlow, by a great effort, just lifted his head far enough out ofhis cravat to shake it, and answered, anticipating the word 'salary':

'No. I will not say what consideration I might give to that pointmyself, Mr. Copperfield, if I were unfettered. Mr. Jorkins isimmovable.'

I was quite dismayed by the idea of this terrible Jorkins. But I foundout afterwards that he was a mild man of a heavy temperament, whoseplace in the business was to keep himself in the background, and beconstantly exhibited by name as the most obdurate and ruthless of men.If a clerk wanted his salary raised, Mr. Jorkins wouldn't listen to sucha proposition. If a client were slow to settle his bill of costs, Mr.Jorkins was resolved to have it paid; and however painful these thingsmight be (and always were) to the feelings of Mr. Spenlow, Mr. Jorkinswould have his bond. The heart and hand of the good angel Spenlow wouldhave been always open, but for the restraining demon Jorkins. As I havegrown older, I think I have had experience of some other houses doingbusiness on the principle of Spenlow and Jorkins!

It was settled that I should begin my month's probation as soon as Ipleased, and that my aunt need neither remain in town nor return atits expiration, as the articles of agreement, of which I was to be thesubject, could easily be sent to her at home for her signature. Whenwe had got so far, Mr. Spenlow offered to take me into Court then andthere, and show me what sort of place it was. As I was willing enoughto know, we went out with this object, leaving my aunt behind; who wouldtrust herself, she said, in no such place, and who, I think, regardedall Courts of Law as a sort of powder-mills that might blow up at anytime.

Mr. Spenlow conducted me through a paved courtyard formed of grave brickhouses, which I inferred, from the Doctors' names upon the doors, to bethe official abiding-places of the learned advocates of whom Steerforthhad told me; and into a large dull room, not unlike a chapel to mythinking, on the left hand. The upper part of this room was fenced offfrom the rest; and there, on the two sides of a raised platform of thehorse-shoe form, sitting on easy old-fashioned dining-room chairs, weresundry gentlemen in red gowns and grey wigs, whom I found to be theDoctors aforesaid. Blinking over a little desk like a pulpit-desk, inthe curve of the horse-shoe, was an old gentleman, whom, if I had seenhim in an aviary, I should certainly have taken for an owl, but who, Ilearned, was the presiding judge. In the space within the horse-shoe,lower than these, that is to say, on about the level of the floor, weresundry other gentlemen, of Mr. Spenlow's rank, and dressed like him inblack gowns with white fur upon them, sitting at a long green table.Their cravats were in general stiff, I thought, and their looks haughty;but in this last respect I presently conceived I had done them aninjustice, for when two or three of them had to rise and answer aquestion of the presiding dignitary, I never saw anything more sheepish.The public, represented by a boy with a comforter, and a shabby-genteelman secretly eating crumbs out of his coat pockets, was warming itselfat a stove in the centre of the Court. The languid stillness of theplace was only broken by the chirping of this fire and by the voice ofone of the Doctors, who was wandering slowly through a perfect libraryof evidence, and stopping to put up, from time to time, at littleroadside inns of argument on the journey. Altogether, I have never,on any occasion, made one at such a cosey, dosey, old-fashioned,time-forgotten, sleepy-headed little family-party in all my life; andI felt it would be quite a soothing opiate to belong to it in anycharacter--except perhaps as a suitor.

Very well satisfied with the dreamy nature of this retreat, I informedMr. Spenlow that I had seen enough for that time, and we rejoinedmy aunt; in company with whom I presently departed from the Commons,feeling very young when I went out of Spenlow and Jorkins's, on accountof the clerks poking one another with their pens to point me out.

We arrived at Lincoln's Inn Fields without any new adventures, exceptencountering an unlucky donkey in a costermonger's cart, who suggestedpainful associations to my aunt. We had another long talk about myplans, when we were safely housed; and as I knew she was anxious toget home, and, between fire, food, and pickpockets, could never beconsidered at her ease for half-an-hour in London, I urged her not to beuncomfortable on my account, but to leave me to take care of myself.

'I have not been here a week tomorrow, without considering that too, mydear,' she returned. 'There is a furnished little set of chambers to belet in the Adelphi, Trot, which ought to suit you to a marvel.'

With this brief introduction, she produced from her pocket anadvertisement, carefully cut out of a newspaper, setting forth that inBuckingham Street in the Adelphi there was to be let furnished, with aview of the river, a singularly desirable, and compact set of chambers,forming a genteel residence for a young gentleman, a member of oneof the Inns of Court, or otherwise, with immediate possession. Termsmoderate, and could be taken for a month only, if required.

'Why, this is the very thing, aunt!' said I, flushed with the possibledignity of living in chambers.

'Then come,' replied my aunt, immediately resuming the bonnet she had aminute before laid aside. 'We'll go and look at 'em.'

Away we went. The advertisement directed us to apply to Mrs. Cruppon the premises, and we rung the area bell, which we supposed tocommunicate with Mrs. Crupp. It was not until we had rung three or fourtimes that we could prevail on Mrs. Crupp to communicate with us, butat last she appeared, being a stout lady with a flounce of flannelpetticoat below a nankeen gown.

'Let us see these chambers of yours, if you please, ma'am,' said myaunt.

'For this gentleman?' said Mrs. Crupp, feeling in her pocket for herkeys.

'Yes, for my nephew,' said my aunt.

'And a sweet set they is for sich!' said Mrs. Crupp.

So we went upstairs.

They were on the top of the house--a great point with my aunt, beingnear the fire-escape--and consisted of a little half-blind entry whereyou could see hardly anything, a little stone-blind pantry where youcould see nothing at all, a sitting-room, and a bedroom. The furniturewas rather faded, but quite good enough for me; and, sure enough, theriver was outside the windows.

As I was delighted with the place, my aunt and Mrs. Crupp withdrew intothe pantry to discuss the terms, while I remained on the sitting-roomsofa, hardly daring to think it possible that I could be destined tolive in such a noble residence. After a single combat of some durationthey returned, and I saw, to my joy, both in Mrs. Crupp's countenanceand in my aunt's, that the deed was done.

'Is it the last occupant's furniture?' inquired my aunt.

'Yes, it is, ma'am,' said Mrs. Crupp.

'What's become of him?' asked my aunt.

Mrs. Crupp was taken with a troublesome cough, in the midst of whichshe articulated with much difficulty. 'He was took ill here, ma'am,and--ugh! ugh! ugh! dear me!--and he died!'

'Hey! What did he die of?' asked my aunt.

'Well, ma'am, he died of drink,' said Mrs. Crupp, in confidence. 'Andsmoke.'

'Smoke? You don't mean chimneys?' said my aunt.

'No, ma'am,' returned Mrs. Crupp. 'Cigars and pipes.'

'That's not catching, Trot, at any rate,' remarked my aunt, turning tome.

'No, indeed,' said I.

In short, my aunt, seeing how enraptured I was with the premises, tookthem for a month, with leave to remain for twelve months when thattime was out. Mrs. Crupp was to find linen, and to cook; every othernecessary was already provided; and Mrs. Crupp expressly intimated thatshe should always yearn towards me as a son. I was to take possessionthe day after tomorrow, and Mrs. Crupp said, thank Heaven she had nowfound summun she could care for!

On our way back, my aunt informed me how she confidently trusted thatthe life I was now to lead would make me firm and self-reliant, whichwas all I wanted. She repeated this several times next day, in theintervals of our arranging for the transmission of my clothes and booksfrom Mr. Wickfield's; relative to which, and to all my late holiday, Iwrote a long letter to Agnes, of which my aunt took charge, as she wasto leave on the succeeding day. Not to lengthen these particulars, Ineed only add, that she made a handsome provision for all mypossible wants during my month of trial; that Steerforth, to my greatdisappointment and hers too, did not make his appearance before she wentaway; that I saw her safely seated in the Dover coach, exulting in thecoming discomfiture of the vagrant donkeys, with Janet at her side; andthat when the coach was gone, I turned my face to the Adelphi, ponderingon the old days when I used to roam about its subterranean arches, andon the happy changes which had brought me to the surface.