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flowers。 What were my feelings； when I recognized my own
flowers； the identical Covent Garden Market purchase！ I cannot
say that they were very like； or that they particularly resembled
any flowers that have ever come under my observation； but I knew
from the paper round them which was accurately copied； what the
composition was。
Miss Mills was very glad to see me； and very sorry her papa was
not at home： though I thought we all bore that with fortitude。 Miss
Mills was conversational for a few minutes； and then； laying down
her pen upon ‘Affection’s Dirge’； got up； and left the room。
I began to think I would put it off till tomorrow。
‘I hope your poor horse was not tired； when he got home at
night；’ said Dora； lifting up her beautiful eyes。 ‘It was a long way
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David Copperfield
for him。’
I began to think I would do it today。
‘It was a long way for him；’ said I； ‘for he had nothing to uphold
him on the journey。’
‘Wasn’t he fed； poor thing？’ asked Dora。
I began to think I would put it off till tomorrow。
‘Ye…yes；’ I said； ‘he was well taken care of。 I mean he had not
the unutterable happiness that I had in being so near you。’
Dora bent her head over her drawing and said； after a little
while—I had sat； in the interval； in a burning fever； and with my
legs in a very rigid state—
‘You didn’t seem to be sensible of that happiness yourself； at
one time of the day。’
I saw now that I was in for it； and it must be done on the spot。
‘You didn’t care for that happiness in the least；’ said Dora；
slightly raising her eyebrows； and shaking her head； ‘when you
were sitting by Miss Kitt。’
Kitt； I should observe； was the name of the creature in pink；
with the little eyes。
‘Though certainly I don’t know why you should；’ said Dora； or
why you should call it a happiness at all。 But of course you don’t
mean what you say。 And I am sure no one doubts your being at
liberty to do whatever you like。 Jip； you naughty boy； come here！’
I don’t know how I did it。 I did it in a moment。 I intercepted Jip。
I had Dora in my arms。 I was full of eloquence。 I never stopped for
a word。 I told her how I loved her。 I told her I should die without
her。 I told her that I idolized and worshipped her。 Jip barked
madly all the time。
When Dora hung her head and cried； and trembled； my
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eloquence increased so much the more。 If she would like me to die
for her； she had but to say the word； and I was ready。 Life without
Dora’s love was not a thing to have on any terms。 I couldn’t bear it；
and I wouldn’t。 I had loved her every minute； day and night； since
I first saw her。 I loved her at that minute to distraction。 I should
always love her； every minute； to distraction。 Lovers had loved
before； and lovers would love again； but no lover had loved； might；
could； would； or should ever love； as I loved Dora。 The more I
raved； the more Jip barked。 Each of us； in his own way； got more
mad every moment。
Well； well！ Dora and I were sitting on the sofa by and by； quiet
enough； and Jip was lying in her lap； winking peacefully at me。 It
was off my mind。 I was in a state of perfect rapture。 Dora and I
were engaged。
I suppose we had some notion that this was to end in marriage。
We must have had some； because Dora stipulated that we were
never to be married without her papa’s consent。 But； in our
youthful ecstasy； I don’t think that we really looked before us or
behind us； or had any aspiration beyond the ignorant present。 We
were to keep our secret from Mr。 Spenlow； but I am sure the idea
never entered my head； then； that there was anything
dishonourable in that。
Miss Mills was more than usually pensive when Dora； going to
find her； brought her back；—I apprehend； because there was a
tendency in what had passed to awaken the slumbering echoes in
the caverns of Memory。 But she gave us her blessing； and the
assurance of her lasting friendship； and spoke to us； generally； as
became a Voice from the Cloister。
What an idle time it was！ What an insubstantial； happy； foolish
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David Copperfield
time it was！
When I measured Dora’s finger for a ring that was to be made
of Forget…me…nots； and when the jeweller； to whom I took the
measure； found me out； and laughed over his order…book； and
charged me anything he liked for the pretty little toy； with its blue
stones—so associated in my remembrance with Dora’s hand； that
yesterday； when I saw such another； by chance； on the finger of
my own daughter； there was a momentary stirring in my heart；
like pain！
When I walked about； exalted with my secret； and full of my
own interest； and felt the dignity of loving Dora； and of being
beloved； so much； that if I had walked the air； I could not have
been more above the people not so situated； who were creeping on
the earth！
When we had those meetings in the garden of the square； and
sat within the dingy summer…house； so happy； that I love the
London sparrows to this hour； for nothing else； and see the
plumage of the tropics in their smoky feathers！ When we had our
first great quarrel （within a week of our betrothal）； and when Dora
sent me back the ring； enclosed in a despairing cocked…hat note；
wherein she used the terrible expression that ‘our love had begun
in folly； and ended in madness！’ which dreadful words occasioned
me to tear my hair； and cry that all was over！
When； under cover of the night； I flew to Miss Mills； whom I
saw by stealth in a back kitchen where there was a mangle； and
implored Miss Mills to interpose between us and avert insanity。
When Miss Mills undertook the office and returned with Dora；
exhorting us； from the pulpit of her own bitter youth； to mutual
concession； and the avoidance of the Desert of Sahara！
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When we cried； and made it up； and were so blest again； that
the back kitchen； mangle and all； changed to Love’s own temple；
where we arranged a plan of correspondence through Miss Mills；
always to comprehend at least one letter on each side every day！
What an idle time！ What an insubstantial； happy； foolish time！
Of all the times of mine that Time has in his grip； there is none
that in one retrospect I can smile at half so much； and think of half
so tenderly。
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David Copperfield
Chapter 34
MY AUNT ASTONISHES ME
Iwrote to Agnes as soon as Dora and I were engaged。 I wrote
her a long letter； in which I tried to make her comprehend
how blest I was； and what a darling Dora was。 I entreated
Agnes not to regard this as a thoughtless passion which could ever
yield to any other； or had the least resemblance to the boyish
fancies that we used to joke about。 I assured her that its
profundity was quite unfathomable； and expressed my belief that
nothing like it had ever been known。
Somehow； as I wrote to Agnes o