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become quite buttonless on the occasion； for a little volley of those
explosives went off； when； after having made it up with my
mother； she kneeled down by the elbow…chair； and made it up with
me。
We went to bed greatly dejected。 My sobs kept waking me； for a
long time； and when one very strong sob quite hoisted me up in
bed； I found my mother sitting on the coverlet； and leaning over
me。 I fell asleep in her arms； after that； and slept soundly。
Whether it was the following Sunday when I saw the gentleman
again； or whether there was any greater lapse of time before he
reappeared； I cannot recall。 I don’t profess to be clear about dates。
But there he was； in church； and he walked home with us
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
afterwards。 He came in； too； to look at a famous geranium we had；
in the parlour…window。 It did not appear to me that he took much
notice of it； but before he went he asked my mother to give him a
bit of the blossom。 She begged him to choose it for himself； but he
refused to do that—I could not understand why—so she plucked it
for him； and gave it into his hand。 He said he would never； never
part with it any more； and I thought he must be quite a fool not to
know that it would fall to pieces in a day or two。
Peggotty began to be less with us； of an evening； than she had
always been。 My mother deferred to her very much—more than
usual； it occurred to me—and we were all three excellent friends；
still we were different from what we used to be； and were not so
comfortable among ourselves。 Sometimes I fancied that Peggotty
perhaps objected to my mother’s wearing all the pretty dresses she
had in her drawers； or to her going so often to visit at that
neighbour’s； but I couldn’t； to my satisfaction； make out how it
was。
Gradually； I became used to seeing the gentleman with the
black whiskers。 I liked him no better than at first； and had the
same uneasy jealousy of him； but if I had any reason for it beyond
a child’s instinctive dislike； and a general idea that Peggotty and I
could make much of my mother without any help； it certainly was
not the reason that I might have found if I had been older。 No such
thing came into my mind； or near it。 I could observe； in little
pieces； as it were； but as to making a net of a number of these
pieces； and catching anybody in it； that was； as yet； beyond me。
One autumn morning I was with my mother in the front
garden； when Mr。 Murdstone—I knew him by that name now—
came by； on horseback。 He reined up his horse to salute my
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
mother； and said he was going to Lowestoft to see some friends
who were there with a yacht； and merrily proposed to take me on
the saddle before him if I would like the ride。
The air was so clear and pleasant； and the horse seemed to like
the idea of the ride so much himself； as he stood snorting and
pawing at the garden…gate； that I had a great desire to go。 So I was
sent upstairs to Peggotty to be made spruce； and in the meantime
Mr。 Murdstone dismounted； and； with his horse’s bridle drawn
over his arm； walked slowly up and down on the outer side of the
sweetbriar fence； while my mother walked slowly up and down on
the inner to keep him company。 I recollect Peggotty and I peeping
out at them from my little window； I recollect how closely they
seemed to be examining the sweetbriar between them； as they
strolled along； and how； from being in a perfectly angelic temper；
Peggotty turned cross in a moment； and brushed my hair the
wrong way； excessively hard。
Mr。 Murdstone and I were soon off； and trotting along on the
green turf by the side of the road。 He held me quite easily with one
arm； and I don’t think I was restless usually； but I could not make
up my mind to sit in front of him without turning my head
sometimes； and looking up in his face。 He had that kind of shallow
black eye—I want a better word to express an eye that has no
depth in it to be looked into—which； when it is abstracted； seems
from some peculiarity of light to be disfigured； for a moment at a
time； by a cast。 Several times when I glanced at him； I observed
that appearance with a sort of awe； and wondered what he was
thinking about so closely。 His hair and whiskers were blacker and
thicker； looked at so near； than even I had given them credit for
being。 A squareness about the lower part of his face； and the
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
dotted indication of the strong black beard he shaved close every
day； reminded me of the wax…work that had travelled into our
neighbourhood some half…a…year before。 This； his regular
eyebrows； and the rich white； and black； and brown； of his
complexion—confound his complexion； and his memory！—made
me think him； in spite of my misgivings； a very handsome man。 I
have no doubt that my poor dear mother thought him so too。
We went to an hotel by the sea； where two gentlemen were
smoking cigars in a room by themselves。 Each of them was lying
on at least four chairs； and had a large rough jacket on。 In a corner
was a heap of coats and boat…cloaks； and a flag； all bundled up
together。
They both rolled on to their feet in an untidy sort of manner；
when we came in； and said； ‘Halloa； Murdstone！ We thought you
were dead！’
‘Not yet；’ said Mr。 Murdstone。
‘And who’s this shaver？’ said one of the gentlemen； taking hold
of me。
‘That’s Davy；’ returned Mr。 Murdstone。
‘Davy who？’ said the gentleman。 ‘Jones？’
‘Copperfield；’ said Mr。 Murdstone。
‘What！ Bewitching Mrs。 Copperfield’s encumbrance？’ cried the
gentleman。 ‘The pretty little widow？’
‘Quinion；’ said Mr。 Murdstone； ‘take care； if you please。
Somebody’s sharp。’
‘Who is？’ asked the gentleman； laughing。 I looked up； quickly；
being curious to know。
‘Only Brooks of Sheffield；’ said Mr。 Murdstone。
I was quite relieved to find that it was only Brooks of Sheffield；
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
David Copperfield
for； at first； I really thought it was I。
There seemed to be something very comical in the reputation of
Mr。 Brooks of Sheffield； for both the gentlemen laughed heartily
when he was mentioned； and Mr。 Murdstone was a good deal
amused also。 After some laughing； the gentleman whom he had
called Quinion； said：
‘And what is the opinion of Brooks of Sheffield； in reference to
the projected business？’
‘Why； I don’t know that Brooks understands much about it at
present；’ replied Mr。 Murdstone； ‘but he is not generally
favourable； I believe。’
There was more laughter at this； and Mr。 Quinion said he
would ring the bell for some sherry in which to drink to Brooks。
This he did； and when the wine came； he made me have a little；
with a biscuit； and； before I drank it； stand up and say； ‘Confusion
to Brooks of Sheffield！’ The toast was received with great
applause； and such hearty laughter that it made me laugh too； at
which they laughed the more。 In short； we quit