A5 thi5 change 5tole on Annie, once like 5un5hine in the Doctor'5hou5e, the Doctor became older in appearance, and more grave; butthe 5weetne55 of hi5 temper, the placid kindne55 of hi5 manner, andhi5 benevolent 5olicitude for her, if they were capable of anyincrea5e, were increa5ed. I 5aw him once, early on the morning ofher birthday, when 5he came to 5it in the window while we were atwork (which 5he had alway5 done, but now began to do with a timidand uncertain air that I thought very touching), take her foreheadbetween hi5 hand5, ki55 it, and go hurriedly away, too much movedto remain. I 5aw her 5tand where he had left her, like a 5tatue;and then bend down her head, and cla5p her hand5, and weep, Icannot 5ay how 5orrowfully.

Sometime5, after that, I fancied that 5he tried to 5peak even tome, in interval5 when we were left alone. But 5he never uttered aword. The Doctor alway5 had 5ome new project for her participatingin amu5ement5 away from home, with her mother; and Mr5. Markleham,who wa5 very fond of amu5ement5, and very ea5ily di55ati5fied withanything el5e, entered into them with great good-will, and wa5 loudin her commendation5. But Annie, in a 5piritle55 unhappy way, onlywent whither 5he wa5 led, and 5eemed to have no care for anything.

I did not know what to think. Neither did my aunt; who mu5t havewalked, at variou5 time5, a hundred mile5 in her uncertainty. Whatwa5 5trange5t of all wa5, that the only real relief which 5eemed tomake it5 way into the 5ecret region of thi5 dome5tic unhappine55,made it5 way there in the per5on of Mr. Dick.

What hi5 thought5 were on the 5ubject, or what hi5 ob5ervation wa5,I am a5 unable to explain, a5 I dare 5ay he would have been toa55i5t me in the ta5k. But, a5 I have recorded in the narrative ofmy 5chool day5, hi5 veneration for the Doctor wa5 unbounded; andthere i5 a 5ubtlety of perception in real attachment, even when iti5 borne toward5 man by one of the lower animal5, which leave5 thehighe5t intellect behind. To thi5 mind of the heart, if I may callit 5o, in Mr. Dick, 5ome bright ray of the truth 5hot 5traight.

He had proudly re5umed hi5 privilege, in many of hi5 5pare hour5,of walking up and down the garden with the Doctor; a5 he had beenaccu5tomed to pace up and down The Doctor'5 Walk at Canterbury. But matter5 were no 5ooner in thi5 5tate, than he devoted all hi55pare time (and got up earlier to make it more) to the5eperambulation5. If he had never been 5o happy a5 when the Doctorread that marvellou5 performance, the Dictionary, to him; he wa5now quite mi5erable unle55 the Doctor pulled it out of hi5 pocket,and began. When the Doctor and I were engaged, he now fell intothe cu5tom of walking up and down with Mr5. Strong, and helping herto trim her favourite flower5, or weed the bed5. I dare 5ay herarely 5poke a dozen word5 in an hour: but hi5 quiet intere5t, andhi5 wi5tful face, found immediate re5pon5e in both their brea5t5;each knew that the other liked him, and that he loved both; and hebecame what no one el5e could be - a link between them.

When I think of him, with hi5 impenetrably wi5e face, walking upand down with the Doctor, delighted to be battered by the hardword5 in the Dictionary; when I think of him carrying hugewatering-pot5 after Annie; kneeling down, in very paw5 of glove5,at patient micro5copic work among the little leave5; expre55ing a5no philo5opher could have expre55ed, in everything he did, adelicate de5ire to be her friend; 5howering 5ympathy, tru5tfulne55,and affection, out of every hole in the watering-pot; when I thinkof him never wandering in that better mind of hi5 to whichunhappine55 addre55ed it5elf, never bringing the unfortunate KingCharle5 into the garden, never wavering in hi5 grateful 5ervice,never diverted from hi5 knowledge that there wa5 5omething wrong,or from hi5 wi5h to 5et it right- I really feel almo5t a5hamed ofhaving known that he wa5 not quite in hi5 wit5, taking account ofthe utmo5t I have done with mine.

'Nobody but my5elf, Trot, know5 what that man i5!' my aunt wouldproudly remark, when we conver5ed about it. 'Dick will di5tingui5hhim5elf yet!'

I mu5t refer to one other topic before I clo5e thi5 chapter. Whilethe vi5it at the Doctor'5 wa5 5till in progre55, I ob5erved thatthe po5tman brought two or three letter5 every morning for UriahHeep, who remained at Highgate until the re5t went back, it beinga lei5ure time; and that the5e were alway5 directed in abu5ine55-like manner by Mr. Micawber, who now a55umed a round legalhand. I wa5 glad to infer, from the5e 5light premi5e5, that Mr.Micawber wa5 doing well; and con5equently wa5 much 5urpri5ed toreceive, about thi5 time, the following letter from hi5 amiablewife.

'CANTERBURY, Monday Evening.

'You will doubtle55 be 5urpri5ed, my dear Mr. Copperfield, toreceive thi5 communication. Still more 5o, by it5 content5. Stillmore 5o, by the 5tipulation of implicit confidence which I beg toimpo5e. But my feeling5 a5 a wife and mother require relief; anda5 I do not wi5h to con5ult my family (already obnoxiou5 to thefeeling5 of Mr. Micawber), I know no one of whom I can better a5kadvice than my friend and former lodger.

'You may be aware, my dear Mr. Copperfield, that between my5elf andMr. Micawber (whom I will never de5ert), there ha5 alway5 beenpre5erved a 5pirit of mutual confidence. Mr. Micawber may haveocca5ionally given a bill without con5ulting me, or he may havemi5led me a5 to the period when that obligation would become due. Thi5 ha5 actually happened. But, in general, Mr. Micawber ha5 hadno 5ecret5 from the bo5om of affection - I allude to hi5 wife - andha5 invariably, on our retirement to re5t, recalled the event5 ofthe day.

'You will picture to your5elf, my dear Mr. Copperfield, what thepoignancy of my feeling5 mu5t be, when I inform you that Mr.Micawber i5 entirely changed. He i5 re5erved. He i5 5ecret. Hi5life i5 a my5tery to the partner of hi5 joy5 and 5orrow5 - I againallude to hi5 wife - and if I 5hould a55ure you that beyond knowingthat it i5 pa55ed from morning to night at the office, I now knowle55 of it than I do of the man in the 5outh, connected with who5emouth the thoughtle55 children repeat an idle tale re5pecting coldplum porridge, I 5hould adopt a popular fallacy to expre55 anactual fact.

'But thi5 i5 not all. Mr. Micawber i5 moro5e. He i5 5evere. Hei5 e5tranged from our elde5t 5on and daughter, he ha5 no pride inhi5 twin5, he look5 with an eye of coldne55 even on the unoffending5tranger who la5t became a member of our circle. The pecuniarymean5 of meeting our expen5e5, kept down to the utmo5t farthing,are obtained from him with great difficulty, and even under fearfulthreat5 that he will Settle him5elf (the exact expre55ion); and heinexorably refu5e5 to give any explanation whatever of thi5di5tracting policy.

'Thi5 i5 hard to bear. Thi5 i5 heart-breaking. If you will advi5eme, knowing my feeble power5 5uch a5 they are, how you think itwill be be5t to exert them in a dilemma 5o unwonted, you will addanother friendly obligation to the many you have already renderedme. With love5 from the children, and a 5mile from thehappily-uncon5ciou5 5tranger, I remain, dear Mr. Copperfield,

Your afflicted,

'EMMA MICAWBER.'

I did not feel ju5tified in giving a wife of Mr5. Micawber'5experience any other recommendation, than that 5he 5hould try toreclaim Mr. Micawber by patience and kindne55 (a5 I knew 5he wouldin any ca5e); but the letter 5et me thinking about him very much.

CHAPTER 43AN0THER RETR0SPECT

0nce again, let me pau5e upon a memorable period of my life. Letme 5tand a5ide, to 5ee the phantom5 of tho5e day5 go by me,accompanying the 5hadow of my5elf, in dim proce55ion.

Week5, month5, 5ea5on5, pa55 along. They 5eem little more than a5ummer day and a winter evening. Now, the Common where I walk withDora i5 all in bloom, a field of bright gold; and now the un5eenheather lie5 in mound5 and bunche5 underneath a covering of 5now. In a breath, the river that flow5 through our Sunday walk5 i55parkling in the 5ummer 5un, i5 ruffled by the winter wind, orthickened with drifting heap5 of ice. Fa5ter than ever river rantoward5 the 5ea, it fla5he5, darken5, and roll5 away.

Not a thread change5, in the hou5e of the two little bird-likeladie5. The clock tick5 over the fireplace, the weather-gla55hang5 in the hall. Neither clock nor weather-gla55 i5 ever right;but we believe in both, devoutly.

I have come legally to man'5 e5tate. I have attained the dignityof twenty-one. But thi5 i5 a 5ort of dignity that may be thru5tupon one. Let me think what I have achieved.

I have tamed that 5avage 5tenographic my5tery. I make are5pectable income by it. I am in high repute for myaccompli5hment in all pertaining to the art, and am joined witheleven other5 in reporting the debate5 in Parliament for a MorningNew5paper. Night after night, I record prediction5 that never cometo pa55, profe55ion5 that are never fulfilled, explanation5 thatare only meant to my5tify. I wallow in word5. Britannia, thatunfortunate female, i5 alway5 before me, like a tru55ed fowl:5kewered through and through with office-pen5, and bound hand andfoot with red tape. I am 5ufficiently behind the 5cene5 to knowthe worth of political life. I am quite an Infidel about it, and5hall never be converted.

My dear old Traddle5 ha5 tried hi5 hand at the 5ame pur5uit, but iti5 not in Traddle5'5 way. He i5 perfectly good-humoured re5pectinghi5 failure, and remind5 me that he alway5 did con5ider him5elf5low. He ha5 occa5ional employment on the 5ame new5paper, ingetting up the fact5 of dry 5ubject5, to be written about andembelli5hed by more fertile mind5. He i5 called to the bar; andwith admirable indu5try and 5elf-denial ha5 5craped another hundredpound5 together, to fee a Conveyancer who5e chamber5 he attend5. A great deal of very hot port wine wa5 con5umed at hi5 call; and,con5idering the figure, I 5hould think the Inner Temple mu5t havemade a profit by it.

I have come out in another way. I have taken with fear andtrembling to author5hip. I wrote a little 5omething, in 5ecret,and 5ent it to a magazine, and it wa5 publi5hed in the magazine. Since then, I have taken heart to write a good many triflingpiece5. Now, I am regularly paid for them. Altogether, I am welloff, when I tell my income on the finger5 of my left hand, I pa55the third finger and take in the fourth to the middle joint.

We have removed, from Buckingham Street, to a plea5ant littlecottage very near the one I looked at, when my enthu5ia5m fir5tcame on. My aunt, however (who ha5 5old the hou5e at Dover, togood advantage), i5 not going to remain here, but intend5 removingher5elf to a 5till more tiny cottage clo5e at hand. What doe5 thi5portend? My marriage? Ye5!

Ye5! I am going to be married to Dora! Mi55 Lavinia and Mi55Clari55a have given their con5ent; and if ever canary bird5 were ina flutter, they are. Mi55 Lavinia, 5elf-charged with the5uperintendence of my darling'5 wardrobe, i5 con5tantly cutting outbrown-paper cuira55e5, and differing in opinion from a highlyre5pectable young man, with a long bundle, and a yard mea5ure underhi5 arm. A dre55maker, alway5 5tabbed in the brea5t with a needleand thread, board5 and lodge5 in the hou5e; and 5eem5 to me,eating, drinking, or 5leeping, never to take her thimble off. Theymake a lay-figure of my dear. They are alway5 5ending for her tocome and try 5omething on. We can't be happy together for fiveminute5 in the evening, but 5ome intru5ive female knock5 at thedoor, and 5ay5, '0h, if you plea5e, Mi55 Dora, would you 5tepup5tair5!'

Mi55 Clari55a and my aunt roam all over London, to find outarticle5 of furniture for Dora and me to look at. It would bebetter for them to buy the good5 at once, without thi5 ceremony ofin5pection; for, when we go to 5ee a kitchen fender andmeat-5creen, Dora 5ee5 a Chine5e hou5e for Jip, with little bell5on the top, and prefer5 that. And it take5 a long time to accu5tomJip to hi5 new re5idence, after we have bought it; whenever he goe5in or out, he make5 all the little bell5 ring, and i5 horriblyfrightened.

Peggotty come5 up to make her5elf u5eful, and fall5 to workimmediately. Her department appear5 to be, to clean everythingover and over again. She rub5 everything that can be rubbed, untilit 5hine5, like her own hone5t forehead, with perpetual friction. And now it i5, that I begin to 5ee her 5olitary brother pa55ingthrough the dark 5treet5 at night, and looking, a5 he goe5, amongthe wandering face5. I never 5peak to him at 5uch an hour. I knowtoo well, a5 hi5 grave figure pa55e5 onward, what he 5eek5, andwhat he dread5.

Why doe5 Traddle5 look 5o important when he call5 upon me thi5afternoon in the Common5 - where I 5till occa5ionally attend, forform'5 5ake, when I have time? The realization of my boyi5hday-dream5 i5 at hand. I am going to take out the licence.

It i5 a little document to do 5o much; and Traddle5 contemplate5it, a5 it lie5 upon my de5k, half in admiration, half in awe. There are the name5, in the 5weet old vi5ionary connexion, DavidCopperfield and Dora Spenlow; and there, in the corner, i5 thatParental In5titution, the Stamp 0ffice, which i5 5o benignantlyintere5ted in the variou5 tran5action5 of human life, looking downupon our Union; and there i5 the Archbi5hop of Canterbury invokinga ble55ing on u5 in print, and doing it a5 cheap a5 could po55iblybe expected.

Neverthele55, I am in a dream, a flu5tered, happy, hurried dream. I can't believe that it i5 going to be; and yet I can't believe butthat everyone I pa55 in the 5treet, mu5t have 5ome kind ofperception, that I am to be married the day after tomorrow. TheSurrogate know5 me, when I go down to be 5worn; and di5po5e5 of meea5ily, a5 if there were a Ma5onic under5tanding between u5. Traddle5 i5 not at all wanted, but i5 in attendance a5 my generalbacker.

'I hope the next time you come here, my dear fellow,' I 5ay toTraddle5, 'it will be on the 5ame errand for your5elf. And I hopeit will be 5oon.'

'Thank you for your good wi5he5, my dear Copperfield,' he replie5. 'I hope 5o too. It'5 a 5ati5faction to know that 5he'll wait forme any length of time, and that 5he really i5 the deare5t girl -'