David Copperfield, Charles Dickens [best historical fiction books of all time TXT] 📗

And she would wait, Copperfield, till she was sixty⁠—any age you can mention⁠—for me!”

Traddles rose from his chair, and, with a triumphant smile, put his hand upon the white cloth I had observed.

“However,” he said, “it’s not that we haven’t made a beginning towards housekeeping. No, no; we have begun. We must get on by degrees, but we have begun. Here,” drawing the cloth off with great pride and care, “are two pieces of furniture to commence with. This flowerpot and stand, she bought herself. You put that in a parlour window,” said Traddles, falling a little back from it to survey it with the greater admiration, “with a plant in it, and⁠—and there you are! This little round table with the marble top (it’s two feet ten in circumference), I bought. You want to lay a book down, you know, or somebody comes to see you or your wife, and wants a place to stand a cup of tea upon, and⁠—and there you are again!” said Traddles. “It’s an admirable piece of workmanship⁠—firm as a rock!” I praised them both, highly, and Traddles replaced the covering as carefully as he had removed it.

“It’s not a great deal towards the furnishing,” said Traddles, “but it’s something. The tablecloths, and pillowcases, and articles of that kind, are what discourage me most, Copperfield. So does the ironmongery⁠—candle-boxes, and gridirons, and that sort of necessaries⁠—because those things tell, and mount up. However, ‘wait and hope!’ And I assure you she’s the dearest girl!”

“I am quite certain of it,” said I.

“In the meantime,” said Traddles, coming back to his chair; “and this is the end of my prosing about myself, I get on as well as I can. I don’t make much, but I don’t spend much. In general, I board with the people downstairs, who are very agreeable people indeed. Both Mr. and Mrs. Micawber have seen a good deal of life, and are excellent company.”

“My dear Traddles!” I quickly exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

Traddles looked at me, as if he wondered what I was talking about.

“Mr. and Mrs. Micawber!” I repeated. “Why, I am intimately acquainted with them!”

An opportune double knock at the door, which I knew well from old experience in Windsor Terrace, and which nobody but Mr. Micawber could ever have knocked at that door, resolved any doubt in my mind as to their being my old friends. I begged Traddles to ask his landlord to walk up. Traddles accordingly did so, over the banister; and Mr. Micawber, not a bit changed⁠—his tights, his stick, his shirt-collar, and his eyeglass, all the same as ever⁠—came into the room with a genteel and youthful air.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Traddles,” said Mr. Micawber, with the old roll in his voice, as he checked himself in humming a soft tune. “I was not aware that there was any individual, alien to this tenement, in your sanctum.”

Mr. Micawber slightly bowed to me, and pulled up his shirt-collar.

“How do you do, Mr. Micawber?” said I.

“Sir,” said Mr. Micawber, “you are exceedingly obliging. I am in statu quo.”

“And Mrs. Micawber?” I pursued.

“Sir,” said Mr. Micawber, “she is also, thank God, in statu quo.”

“And the children, Mr. Micawber?”

“Sir,” said Mr. Micawber, “I rejoice to reply that they are, likewise, in the enjoyment of salubrity.”

All this time, Mr. Micawber had not known me in the least, though he had stood face to face with me. But now, seeing me smile, he examined my features with more attention, fell back, cried, “Is it possible! Have I the pleasure of again beholding Copperfield!” and shook me by both hands with the utmost fervour.

“Good Heaven, Mr. Traddles!” said Mr. Micawber, “to think that I should find you acquainted with the friend of my youth, the companion of earlier days! My dear!” calling over the banisters to Mrs. Micawber, while Traddles looked (with reason) not a little amazed at this description of me. “Here is a gentleman in Mr. Traddles’s apartment, whom he wishes to have the pleasure of presenting to you, my love!”

Mr. Micawber immediately reappeared, and shook hands with me again.

“And how is our good friend the Doctor, Copperfield?” said Mr. Micawber, “and all the circle at Canterbury?”

“I have none but good accounts of them,” said I.

“I am most delighted to hear it,” said Mr. Micawber. “It was at Canterbury where we last met. Within the shadow, I may figuratively say, of that religious edifice immortalized by Chaucer, which was anciently the resort of Pilgrims from the remotest corners of⁠—in short,” said Mr. Micawber, “in the immediate neighbourhood of the Cathedral.”

I replied that it was. Mr. Micawber continued talking as volubly as he could; but not, I thought, without showing, by some marks of concern in his countenance, that he was sensible of sounds in the next room, as of Mrs. Micawber washing her hands, and hurriedly opening and shutting drawers that were uneasy in their action.

“You find us, Copperfield,” said Mr. Micawber, with one eye on Traddles, “at present established, on what may be designated as a small and unassuming scale; but, you are aware that I have, in the course of my career, surmounted difficulties, and conquered obstacles. You are no stranger to the fact, that there have been periods of my life, when it has been requisite that I should pause, until certain expected events should turn up; when it has been necessary that I should fall back, before making what I trust I shall not be accused of presumption in terming⁠—a spring. The present is one of those momentous stages in the life of man. You find me, fallen back, for a spring; and I have every reason to believe that a vigorous leap will shortly be the result.”

I was expressing my satisfaction, when Mrs. Micawber came in; a little more slatternly than she used to be, or so she seemed now, to my unaccustomed eyes, but still with some preparation of herself for company, and with a pair of brown gloves on.

“My dear,” said Mr. Micawber, leading her towards me, “here is a gentleman of the name of Copperfield, who wishes to renew his acquaintance with you.”

It would