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other light。’
Agnes answered with her pleasant laugh； that one good Angel
（meaning Dora） was enough； and went on to remind me that the
Doctor had been used to occupy himself in his study； early in the
morning； and in the evening—and that probably my leisure would
suit his requirements very well。 I was scarcely more delighted with
the prospect of earning my own bread； than with the hope of
earning it under my old master； in short； acting on the advice of
Agnes； I sat down and wrote a letter to the Doctor； stating my
object； and appointing to call on him next day at ten in the
forenoon。 This I addressed to Highgate—for in that place； so
memorable to me； he lived—and went and posted； myself； without
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David Copperfield
losing a minute。
Wherever Agnes was； some agreeable token of her noiseless
presence seemed inseparable from the place。 When I came back； I
found my aunt’s birds hanging； just as they had hung so long in
the parlour window of the cottage； and my easy…chair imitating my
aunt’s much easier chair in its position at the open window； and
even the round green fan； which my aunt had brought away with
her； screwed on to the window…sill。 I knew who had done all this；
by its seeming to have quietly done itself； and I should have
known in a moment who had arranged my neglected books in the
old order of my school days； even if I had supposed Agnes to be
miles away； instead of seeing her busy with them； and smiling at
the disorder into which they had fallen。
My aunt was quite gracious on the subject of the Thames （it
really did look very well with the sun upon it； though not like the
sea before the cottage）； but she could not relent towards the
London smoke； which； she said； ‘peppered everything’。 A complete
revolution； in which Peggotty bore a prominent part； was being
effected in every corner of my rooms； in regard of this pepper； and
I was looking on； thinking how little even Peggotty seemed to do
with a good deal of bustle； and how much Agnes did without any
bustle at all； when a knock came at the door。
‘I think；’ said Agnes； turning pale； ‘it’s papa。 He promised me
that he would come。’
I opened the door； and admitted； not only Mr。 Wickfield； but
Uriah Heep。 I had not seen Mr。 Wickfield for some time。 I was
prepared for a great change in him； after what I had heard from
Agnes； but his appearance shocked me。
It was not that he looked many years older； though still dressed
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
with the old scrupulous cleanliness； or that there was an
unwholesome ruddiness upon his face； or that his eyes were full
and bloodshot； or that there was a nervous trembling in his hand；
the cause of which I knew； and had for some years seen at work。 It
was not that he had lost his good looks； or his old bearing of a
gentleman—for that he had not—but the thing that struck me
most； was； that with the evidences of his native superiority still
upon him； he should submit himself to that crawling
impersonation of meanness； Uriah Heep。 The reversal of the two
natures； in their relative positions； Uriah’s of power and Mr。
Wickfield’s of dependence； was a sight more painful to me than I
can express。 If I had seen an Ape taking command of a Man； I
should hardly have thought it a more degrading spectacle。
He appeared to be only too conscious of it himself。 When he
came in； he stood still； and with his head bowed； as if he felt it。
This was only for a moment； for Agnes softly said to him； ‘Papa！
Here is Miss Trotwood—and Trotwood； whom you have not seen
for a long while！’ and then he approached； and constrainedly gave
my aunt his hand； and shook hands more cordially with me。 In the
moment’s pause I speak of； I saw Uriah’s countenance form itself
into a most ill…favoured smile。 Agnes saw it too； I think； for she
shrank from him。
What my aunt saw； or did not see； I defy the science of
physiognomy to have made out； without her own consent。 I believe
there never was anybody with such an imperturbable
countenance when she chose。 Her face might have been a dead…
wall on the occasion in question； for any light it threw upon her
thoughts； until she broke silence with her usual abruptness。
‘Well； Wickfield！’ said my aunt； and he looked up at her for the
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David Copperfield
first time。 ‘I have been telling your daughter how well I have been
disposing of my money for myself； because I couldn’t trust it to
you； as you were growing rusty in business matters。 We have been
taking counsel together； and getting on very well； all things
considered。 Agnes is worth the whole firm； in my opinion。’
‘If I may umbly make the remark；’ said Uriah Heep； with a
writhe； ‘I fully agree with Miss Betsey Trotwood； and should be
only too appy if Miss Agnes was a partner。’
‘You’re a partner yourself； you know；’ returned my aunt； ‘and
that’s about enough for you； I expect。 How do you find yourself；
sir？’
In acknowledgement of this question； addressed to him with
extraordinary curtness； Mr。 Heep； uncomfortably clutching the
blue bag he carried； replied that he was pretty well； he thanked
my aunt； and hoped she was the same。
‘And you； Master—I should say； Mister Copperfield；’ pursued
Uriah。 ‘I hope I see you well！ I am rejoiced to see you； Mister
Copperfield； even under present circumstances。’ I believed that；
for he seemed to relish them very much。 ‘Present circumstances is
not what your friends would wish for you； Mister Copperfield； but
it isn’t money makes the man： it’s—I am really unequal with my
umble powers to express what it is；’ said Uriah； with a fawning
jerk； ‘but it isn’t money！’
Here he shook hands with me： not in the common way； but
standing at a good distance from me； and lifting my hand up and
down like a pump handle； that he was a little afraid of。
‘And how do you think we are looking； Master Copperfield；—I
should say； Mister？’ fawned Uriah。 ‘Don’t you find Mr。 Wickfield
blooming； sir？ Years don’t tell much in our firm； Master
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David Copperfield
Copperfield； except in raising up the umble； namely； mother and
self—and in developing；’ he added； as an afterthought； ‘the
beautiful； namely； Miss Agnes。’
He jerked himself about； after this compliment； in such an
intolerable manner； that my aunt； who had sat looking straight at
him； lost all patience。
‘Deuce take the man！’ said my aunt； sternly； ‘what’s he about？
Don’t be galvanic； sir！’
‘I ask your pardon； Miss Trotwood；’ returned Uriah； ‘I’m aware
you’re nervous。’
‘Go along with you； sir！’ said my aunt； anything but appeased。
‘Don’t presume to say so！ I am nothing of the sort。 If you’re an eel；
sir； conduct yourself like one。 If you’re a man； control your limbs；
sir！ Good God！’ said my aunt； with great indignation； ‘I am not
going to be serpentined and corkscrewed out of my senses！’
Mr。 Heep was rather abash