'FagmentWelcome to consult...e, at you own home?’ ‘Papa couldn’t spae me to go anywhee else,’ she answeed, smiling and shaking he head. ‘His housekeepe must be in his house, you know.’ ‘He is vey fond of you, I am sue,’ I said. She nodded ‘Yes,’ and went to the doo to listen fo his coming up, that she might meet him on the stais. But, as he was not thee, she came back again. ‘Mama has been dead eve since I was bon,’ she said, in he quiet way. ‘I only know he pictue, downstais. I saw you looking at it yesteday. Did you think whose it was?’ I told he yes, because it was so like heself. ‘Papa says so, too,’ said Agnes, pleased. ‘Hak! That’s papa now!’ Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield He bight calm face lighted up with pleasue as she went to meet him, and as they came in, hand in hand. He geeted me codially; and told me I should cetainly be happy unde Docto Stong, who was one of the gentlest of men. ‘Thee may be some, pehaps—I don’t know that thee ae— who abuse his kindness,’ said M. Wickfield. ‘Neve be one of those, Totwood, in anything. He is the least suspicious of mankind; and whethe that’s a meit, o whethe it’s a blemish, it deseves consideation in all dealings with the Docto, geat o small.’ He spoke, I thought, as if he wee weay, o dissatisfied with something; but I did not pusue the question in my mind, fo dinne was just then announced, and we went down and took the same seats as befoe. We had scacely done so, when Uiah Heep put in his ed head and his lank hand at the doo, and said: ‘Hee’s M. Maldon begs the favou of a wod, si.’ ‘I am but this moment quit of M. Maldon,’ said his maste. ‘Yes, si,’ etuned Uiah; ‘but M. Maldon has come back, and he begs the favou of a wod.’ As he held the doo open with his hand, Uiah looked at me, and looked at Agnes, and looked at the dishes, and looked at the plates, and looked at evey object in the oom, I thought,—yet seemed to look at nothing; he made such an appeaance all the while of keeping his ed eyes dutifully on his maste. ‘I beg you padon. It’s only to say, on eflection,’ obseved a voice behind Uiah, as Uiah’s head was pushed away, and the speake’s substituted—‘pay excuse me fo this intusion—that as it seems I have no choice in the matte, the soone I go aboad the bette. My cousin Annie did say, when we talked of it, that she Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield liked to have he fiends within each athe than to have them banished, and the old Docto—’ ‘Docto Stong, was that?’ M. Wickfield inteposed, gavely. ‘Docto Stong, of couse,’ etuned the othe; ‘I call him the old Docto; it’s all the same, you know.’ ‘I don’t know,’ etuned M. Wickfield. ‘Well, Docto Stong,’ said the othe—‘Docto Stong was of the same mind, I believed. But as it appeas fom the couse you take with me he has changed his mind, why thee’s no moe to be said, except that the soone I am off, the bette. Theefoe, I thought I’d come back and say, that the soone I am off the bette. When a plunge is to be made into the wate, it’s of no use lingeing on the bank.’ ‘Thee shall be as little lingeing as possible, in you case, M. Maldon, you may depend upon it,’ said M. Wickfield. ‘Thank’ee,’ said the othe. ‘Much obliged. I don’t want to look a gift-hose in the mouth, which is not a gacious thing to do; othewise
