This is not the time at which I am to enter on the state of my mindbeneath its load of sorrow. I came to think that the Future was walledup before me, that the energy and action of my life were at an end, thatI never could find any refuge but in the grave. I came to think so, Isay, but not in the first shock of my grief. It slowly grew to that.If the events I go on to relate, had not thickened around me, in thebeginning to confuse, and in the end to augment, my affliction, it ispossible (though I think not probable), that I might have fallen at onceinto this condition. As it was, an interval occurred before I fully knewmy own distress; an interval, in which I even supposed that its sharpestpangs were past; and when my mind could soothe itself by resting onall that was most innocent and beautiful, in the tender story that wasclosed for ever.

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

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

Let me go on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I propose,' said Mr. Micawber, 'Bills--a convenience to the mercantileworld, for which, I believe, we are originally indebted to the Jews, whoappear to me to have had a devilish deal too much to do with themever since--because they are negotiable. But if a Bond, or any otherdescription of security, would be preferred, I should be happy toexecute any such instrument. As between man and man.'

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

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

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

'My dear madam,' returned Mrs. Micawber, with her business-like air.'I am free to confess that I have not been actively engaged in pursuitsimmediately connected with cultivation or with stock, though well awarethat both will claim my attention on a foreign shore. Such opportunitiesas I have been enabled to alienate from my domestic duties, I havedevoted to corresponding at some length with my family. For I own itseems to me, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, who alwaysfell back on me, I suppose from old habit, to whomsoever else she mightaddress her discourse at starting, 'that the time is come when the pastshould be buried in oblivion; when my family should take Mr. Micawber bythe hand, and Mr. Micawber should take my family by the hand; when thelion should lie down with the lamb, and my family be on terms with Mr.Micawber.'

I said I thought so too.

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

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

'Precisely so,' assented Mrs. Micawber. 'Now, I may be wrong in myconclusions; it is very likely that I am, but my individual impressionis, that the gulf between my family and Mr. Micawber may be traced to anapprehension, on the part of my family, that Mr. Micawber would requirepecuniary accommodation. I cannot help thinking,' said Mrs. Micawber,with an air of deep sagacity, 'that there are members of my family whohave been apprehensive that Mr. Micawber would solicit them for theirnames.---I do not mean to be conferred in Baptism upon our children,but to be inscribed on Bills of Exchange, and negotiated in the MoneyMarket.'

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

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

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

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

Mr. Micawber coughed.

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

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

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

'My dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, leaning back in his chair whenthey were gone, and looking at me with an affection that made his eyesred, and his hair all kinds of shapes, 'I don't make any excuse fortroubling you with business, because I know you are deeply interestedin it, and it may divert your thoughts. My dear boy, I hope you are notworn out?'

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

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

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

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

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

'I must do Mr. Micawber the justice to say,' Traddles began, 'thatalthough he would appear not to have worked to any good account forhimself, he is a most untiring man when he works for other people. Inever saw such a fellow. If he always goes on in the same way, he mustbe, virtually, about two hundred years old, at present. The heat intowhich he has been continually putting himself; and the distracted andimpetuous manner in which he has been diving, day and night, amongpapers and books; to say nothing of the immense number of letters he haswritten me between this house and Mr. Wickfield's, and often across thetable when he has been sitting opposite, and might much more easily havespoken; is quite extraordinary.'

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

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

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

'I am happy to say, Miss Wickfield,' pursued Traddles, at once withgreat delicacy and with great earnestness, 'that in your absence Mr.Wickfield has considerably improved. Relieved of the incubus that hadfastened upon him for so long a time, and of the dreadful apprehensionsunder which he had lived, he is hardly the same person. At times,even his impaired power of concentrating his memory and attention onparticular points of business, has recovered itself very much; and hehas been able to assist us in making some things clear, that we shouldhave found very difficult indeed, if not hopeless, without him. Butwhat I have to do is to come to results; which are short enough; notto gossip on all the hopeful circumstances I have observed, or I shallnever have done.' His natural manner and agreeable simplicity made ittransparent that he said this to put us in good heart, and to enableAgnes to hear her father mentioned with greater confidence; but it wasnot the less pleasant for that.

'Now, let me see,' said Traddles, looking among the papers on thetable. 'Having counted our funds, and reduced to order a great mass ofunintentional confusion in the first place, and of wilful confusion andfalsification in the second, we take it to be clear that Mr. Wickfieldmight now wind up his business, and his agency-trust, and exhibit nodeficiency or defalcation whatever.'

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

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

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

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

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

'Have you thought how, Agnes?'

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

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

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

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

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

'Right!' replied my aunt.

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

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

'Five thousand pounds,' said Traddles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We all remained quiet; Agnes covering her face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I think so too,' said I.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'No,' returned my aunt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Of course.'

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

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

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

'Did he die in the hospital?'

'Yes.'

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

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

'You went, I know, aunt.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

It did not last long. After the relief of tears, she soon becamecomposed, and even cheerful. Her nerves were a little shaken, she said,or she would not have given way to it. God forgive us all!

So we rode back to her little cottage at Highgate, where we found thefollowing short note, which had arrived by that morning's post from Mr.Micawber:

'Canterbury,

'Friday.

'My dear Madam, and Copperfield,

'The fair land of promise lately looming on the horizon is againenveloped in impenetrable mists, and for ever withdrawn from the eyes ofa drifting wretch whose Doom is sealed!

'Another writ has been issued (in His Majesty's High Court of King'sBench at Westminster), in another cause of HEEP V. MICAWBER, andthe defendant in that cause is the prey of the sheriff having legaljurisdiction in this bailiwick.

'Now's the day, and now's the hour, See the front of battle lower, See approach proud EDWARD'S power-- Chains and slavery!

'Consigned to which, and to a speedy end (for mental torture is notsupportable beyond a certain point, and that point I feel I haveattained), my course is run. Bless you, bless you! Some futuretraveller, visiting, from motives of curiosity, not unmingled, let ushope, with sympathy, the place of confinement allotted to debtors inthis city, may, and I trust will, Ponder, as he traces on its wall,inscribed with a rusty nail,

'The obscure initials,

'W. M.

'P.S. I re-open this to say that our common friend, Mr. Thomas Traddles(who has not yet left us, and is looking extremely well), has paid thedebt and costs, in the noble name of Miss Trotwood; and that myself andfamily are at the height of earthly bliss.'