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might tell her； if you would；’ said Mr。 Barkis； with another slow
look at me； ‘that Barkis was a…waitin’ for a answer。 Says you—
what name is it？’
‘Her name？’
‘Ah！’ said Mr。 Barkis； with a nod of his head。
‘Peggotty。’
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
‘Chrisen name？ Or nat’ral name？’ said Mr。 Barkis。
‘Oh； it’s not her Christian name。 Her Christian name is Clara。’
‘Is it though？’ said Mr。 Barkis。
He seemed to find an immense fund of reflection in this
circumstance； and sat pondering and inwardly whistling for some
time。
‘Well！’ he resumed at length。 ‘Says you； “Peggotty！ Barkis is
waitin’ for a answer。” Says she； perhaps； “Answer to what？” Says
you； “To what I told you。” “What is that？” says she。 “Barkis is
willin’；” says you。’
This extremely artful suggestion Mr。 Barkis accompanied with
a nudge of his elbow that gave me quite a stitch in my side。 After
that； he slouched over his horse in his usual manner； and made no
other reference to the subject except； half an hour afterwards；
taking a piece of chalk from his pocket； and writing up； inside the
tilt of the cart； ‘Clara Peggotty’—apparently as a private
memorandum。
Ah； what a strange feeling it was to be going home when it was
not home； and to find that every object I looked at； reminded me of
the happy old home； which was like a dream I could never dream
again！ The days when my mother and I and Peggotty were all in
all to one another； and there was no one to come between us； rose
up before me so sorrowfully on the road； that I am not sure I was
glad to be there—not sure but that I would rather have remained
away； and forgotten it in Steerforth’s company。 But there I was；
and soon I was at our house； where the bare old elm…trees wrung
their many hands in the bleak wintry air； and shreds of the old
rooks’…nests drifted away upon the wind。
The carrier put my box down at the garden…gate； and left me。 I
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
walked along the path towards the house； glancing at the
windows； and fearing at every step to see Mr。 Murdstone or Miss
Murdstone lowering out of one of them。 No face appeared；
however； and being come to the house； and knowing how to open
the door； before dark； without knocking； I went in with a quiet；
timid step。
God knows how infantine the memory may have been； that was
awakened within me by the sound of my mother’s voice in the old
parlour； when I set foot in the hall。 She was singing in a low tone。 I
think I must have lain in her arms； and heard her singing so to me
when I was but a baby。 The strain was new to me； and yet it was so
old that it filled my heart brim…full； like a friend come back from a
long absence。
I believed； from the solitary and thoughtful way in which my
mother murmured her song； that she was alone。 And I went softly
into the room。 She was sitting by the fire； suckling an infant；
whose tiny hand she held against her neck。 Her eyes were looking
down upon its face； and she sat singing to it。 I was so far right； that
she had no other companion。
I spoke to her； and she started； and cried out。 But seeing me；
she called me her dear Davy； her own boy！ and coming half across
the room to meet me； kneeled down upon the ground and kissed
me； and laid my head down on her bosom near the little creature
that was nestling there； and put its hand to my lips。
I wish I had died。 I wish I had died then； with that feeling in my
heart！ I should have been more fit for Heaven than I ever have
been since。
‘He is your brother；’ said my mother； fondling me。 ‘Davy； my
pretty boy！ My poor child！’ Then she kissed me more and more；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
and clasped me round the neck。 This she was doing when
Peggotty came running in； and bounced down on the ground
beside us； and went mad about us both for a quarter of an hour。
It seemed that I had not been expected so soon； the carrier
being much before his usual time。 It seemed； too； that Mr。 and
Miss Murdstone had gone out upon a visit in the neighbourhood；
and would not return before night。 I had never hoped for this。 I
had never thought it possible that we three could be together
undisturbed； once more； and I felt； for the time； as if the old days
were come back。
We dined together by the fireside。 Peggotty was in attendance
to wait upon us； but my mother wouldn’t let her do it； and made
her dine with us。 I had my own old plate； with a brown view of a
man…of…war in full sail upon it； which Peggotty had hoarded
somewhere all the time I had been away； and would not have had
broken； she said； for a hundred pounds。 I had my own old mug
with David on it； and my own old little knife and fork that wouldn’t
cut。
While we were at table； I thought it a favourable occasion to tell
Peggotty about Mr。 Barkis； who； before I had finished what I had
to tell her； began to laugh； and throw her apron over her face。
‘Peggotty；’ said my mother。 ‘What’s the matter？’
Peggotty only laughed the more； and held her apron tight over
her face when my mother tried to pull it away； and sat as if her
head were in a bag。
‘What are you doing； you stupid creature？’ said my mother；
laughing。
‘Oh； drat the man！’ cried Peggotty。 ‘He wants to marry me。’
‘It would be a very good match for you； wouldn’t it？’ said my
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
mother。
‘Oh！ I don’t know；’ said Peggotty。 ‘Don’t ask me。 I wouldn’t have
him if he was made of gold。 Nor I wouldn’t have anybody。’
‘Then； why don’t you tell him so； you ridiculous thing？’ said my
mother。
‘Tell him so；’ retorted Peggotty； looking out of her apron。 ‘He
has never said a word to me about it。 He knows better。 If he was to
make so bold as say a word to me； I should slap his face。’
Her own was as red as ever I saw it； or any other face； I think；
but she only covered it again； for a few moments at a time； when
she was taken with a violent fit of laughter； and after two or three
of those attacks； went on with her dinner。
I remarked that my mother； though she smiled when Peggotty
looked at her； became more serious and thoughtful。 I had seen at
first that she was changed。 Her face was very pretty still； but it
looked careworn； and too delicate； and her hand was so thin and
white that it seemed to me to be almost transparent。 But the
change to which I now refer was superadded to this： it was in her
manner； which became anxious and fluttered。 At last she said；
putting out her hand； and laying it affectionately on the hand of
her old servant；
‘Peggotty； dear； you are not going to be married？’
‘Me； ma’am？’ returned Peggotty； staring。 ‘Lord bless you； no！’
‘Not just yet？’ said my mother； tenderly。
‘Never！’ cried Peggotty。
My mother took her hand； and said：
‘Don’t leave me； Peggotty。 Stay with me。 It will not be for long；
perhaps。 What should I ever do without you！’
‘M