To this favour, Mr. Copperfield immediately replied, with his respectful compliments, that he would have the honour of waiting on the Misses Spenlow, at the time appointed, accompanied, in accordance with their kind permission, by his friend Mr. Thomas Traddles of the Inner Temple. Having despatched which missive, Mr. Copperfield fell into a condition of strong nervous agitation, and so remained until the day arrived.
It was a great augmentation of my uneasiness to be bereaved, at this eventful crisis, of the inestimable services of Miss Mills. But Mr. Mills, who was always doing something or other to annoy me--or I felt as if he were, which was the same thing--had brought his conduct to a climax, by taking it into his head that he would go to India. Why should he go to India, except to harass me? To be sure he had nothing to do with any other part of the world, and had a good deal to do with that part, being entirely in the Indian trade, whatever that was (I had floating dreams myself concerning golden shawls and elephants' teeth), having been at Calcutta in his youth, and designing now to go out there again, in the capacity of resident partner. But this was nothing to me. However, it was so much to him that for India he was bound, and Julia with him, and Julia went into the country to take leave of her relations, and the house was put into a perfect suit of bills, announcing that it was to be let or sold, and that the furniture (Mangle and all) was to be taken at a valuation. So, here was another earthquake of which I became the sport, before I had recovered from the shock of its predecessor!
I was in several minds how to dress myself on the important day, being divided between my desire to appear to advantage, and my apprehensions of putting on anything that might impair my severely practical character in the eyes of the Misses Spenlow. I endeavoured to hit a happy medium between these two extremes, my aunt approved the result, and Mr. Dick threw one of his shoes after Traddles and me, for luck, as we went downstairs.
Excellent fellow as I knew Traddles to be, and warmly attached to him as I was, I could not help wishing, on that delicate occasion, that he had never contracted the habit of brushing his hair so very upright. It gave him a surprised look--not to say a hearth-broomy kind of expression--which, my apprehensions whispered, might be fatal to us.
I took the liberty of mentioning it to Traddles, as we were walking to Putney, and saying that if he would smooth it down a little--
"My dear Copperfield," said Traddles, lifting off his hat, and rubbing his hair all kinds of ways, "nothing would give me greater pleasure. But it won't."
"Won't be smoothed down?" said I.
"No," said Traddles. "Nothing will induce it. If I was to carry a half-hundredweight upon it, all the way to Putney, it would be up again the moment the weight was taken off. You have no idea what obstinate hair mine is, Copperfield. I am quite a fretful porcupine."
I was a little disappointed, I must confess, but thoroughly charmed by his good-nature too. I told him how I esteemed his good-nature, and said that his hair must have taken all the obstinacy out of his character, for he had none.
"Oh!" returned Traddles, laughing, "I assure you, it's quite an old story, my unfortunate hair. My uncle's wife couldn't bear it. She said it exasperated her. It stood very much in my way, too, when I first fell in love with Sophy. Very much!"
"Did she object to it?"
"She didn't," rejoined Traddles, "but her eldest sister--the one that's the Beauty--quite made game of it, I understand. In fact, all the sisters laugh at it."
"Agreeable!" said I.
"Yes," returned Traddles with perfect innocence, "it's a joke for us. They pretend that Sophy has a lock of it in her desk, and is obliged to shut it in a clasped book, to keep it down. We laugh about it."
"By-the-by, my dear Traddles," said I, "your experience may suggest something to me. When you became engaged to the young lady whom you have just mentioned, did you make a regular proposal to her family? Was there anything like--what we are going through today, for instance?" I added, nervously.
"Why," replied Traddles, on whose attentive face a thoughtful shade had stolen, "it was rather a painful transaction, Copperfield, in my case. You see, Sophy being of so much use in the family, none of them could endure the thought of her ever being married. Indeed, they had quite settled among themselves that she never was to be married, and they called her the old maid. Accordingly, when I mentioned it, with the greatest precaution, to Mrs. Crewler--"
"The mamma?" said I.
"The mamma," said Traddles--"Reverend Horace Crewler --when I mentioned it with every possible precaution to Mrs. Crewler, the effect upon her was such that she gave a scream and became insensible. I couldn't approach the subject again, for months."
"You did at last?" said I.
"Well, the Reverend Horace did," said Traddles. "He is an excellent man, most exemplary in every way, and he pointed out to her that she ought, as a Christian, to reconcile herself to the sacrifice (especially as it was so uncertain), and to bear no uncharitable feeling towards me. As to myself, Copperfield, I gave you my word, I felt a perfect bird of prey towards the family."
"The sisters took your part, I hope, Traddles?"
"Why, I can't say they did," he returned. "When we had comparatively reconciled Mrs. Crewler to it, we had to break it to Sarah. You recollect my mentioning Sarah, as the one that has something the matter with her spine?"
"Perfectly!"
"She clenched both her hands," said Traddles, looking at me in dismay, "shut her eyes, turned lead-colour, became perfectly stiff, and took nothing for two days but toast-and-water, administered with a teaspoon."
"What a very unpleasant girl, Traddlesl" I remarked.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Copperfield!" said Traddles. "She is a very charming girl, but she has a great deal of feeling. In fact, they all have. Sophy told me afterward that the self-reproach she underwent while she was in attendance upon Sarah, no words could describe. I know it must have been severe, by my own feelings, Copperfield, which were like a criminal's. After Sarah was restored, we still had to break it to the other eight, and it produced various effects upon them of a most pathetic nature. The two little ones, whom Sophy educates, have only just left off detesting me."
"At any rate, they are all reconciled to it now, I hope?" said I.
"Ye--yes, I should say they were, on the whole, resigned to it," said Traddles, doubtfully. "The fact is, we avoid mentioning the subject, and my unsettled prospects and indifferent circumstances are a great consolation to them. There will be a deplorable scene, whenever we are married. It will be much more like a funeral than a wedding. And they'll all hate me for taking her away!"
His honest face, as he looked at me with a serio-comic shake of his head, impresses me more in the remembrance than it did in the reality, for I was by this time in a state of such excessive trepidation and wandering of mind, as to be quite unable to fix my attention on anything. On our approaching the house where the Misses Spenlow lived, I was at such a discount in respect of my personal looks and presence of mind, that Traddles proposed a gentle stimulant in the form of a glass of ale. This having been administered at a neighbouring public-house, he conducted me, with tottering steps, to the Misses Spenlow's door.
I had a vague sensation of being, as it were, on view, when the maid opened it, and of wavering, somehow, across a hall with a weather-glass in it, into a quiet little drawing-room on the ground-floor, commanding a neat garden. Also of sitting down here, on a sofa, and seeing Traddles's hair start up, now his hat was removed, like one of those obtrusive little figures made of springs, that fly out of fictitious snuff-boxes when the lid is taken off. Also of hearing an old-fashioned clock ticking away on the chimney-piece, and trying to make it keep time to the jerking of my heart--which it wouldn't. Also of looking round the room for any sign of Dora, and seeing none. Also of thinking that Jip once barked in the distance, and was instantly choked by somebody. Ultimately I found myself backing Traddles into the fire-place, and bowing in great confusion to two dry little elderly ladies, dressed
in black, and each looking wonderfully like a preparation in chip or tan of the late Mr. Spenlow.
"Pray," said one of the two little ladies, "be seated."
When I had done tumbling over Traddles, and had sat upon something which was not a cat--my first seat was--I so far recovered my sight as to perceive that Mr. Spenlow had evidently been the youngest of the family, that there was a disparity of six or eight years between the two sisters, and that the younger appeared to be the manager of the conference, inasmuch as she had my letter in her hand--so familiar as it looked to me, and yet so odd!--and was referring to it through an eye-glass. They were dressed alike, but this sister wore her dress with a more youthful air than the other, and perhaps had a trifle more frill, or tucker, or brooch, or bracelet, or some little thing of that kind, which made her look more lively. They were both upright in their carriage, formal, precise, composed, and quiet. The sister who had not my letter, had her arms crossed on her breast, and resting on each other, like an Idol.
"Mr. Copperfield, I believe," said the sister who had got my letter, addressing herself to Traddles.
This was a frightful beginning. Traddles had to indicate that I was Mr. Copperfield, and I had to lay claim to myself, and they had to divest themselves of a preconceived opinion that Traddles was Mr. Copperfield, and altogether we were in a nice condition. To improve it, we all distinctly heard Jip give two short barks, and receive another choke.
"Mr. Copperfield!" said the sister with the letter.
I did something--bowed, I suppose--and was all attention, when the other sister struck in.
"My sister Lavinia," said she, "being conversant with matters of this nature, will state what we consider most calculated to promote the happiness of both parties."
I discovered afterwards that Miss Lavinia was an authority in affairs of the heart, by reason of there having anciently existed a certain Mr. Pidger, who played short whist, and was supposed to have been enamoured of her. My private opinion is that this was entirely a gratuitous assumption, and that Pidger was altogether innocent of any such sentiments--to which he had never given any sort of expression that I could ever hear of. Both Miss Lavinia and Miss Clarissa had a superstition, however, that he would have declared his passion, if he had not been cut short in his youth (at about sixty) by over-drinking his constitution, and over-doing an attempt to set it right again by swilling Bath water. They had a lurking suspicion even, that he died of secret love, though I must say there was a picture of him in the house with a damask nose, which concealment did not appear to have ever preyed upon. ,
"We will not," said Miss Lavinia, "enter on the past history of this matter. Our poor brother Francis's death has cancelled that."
"We had not," said Miss Clarissa, "been in the habit of frequent association with our brother Francis, but there was no decided division or disunion between us. Francis took his road; we took ours. We consider it conducive to the happiness of all parties that it should be so. And it was so."
Each of the sisters leaned a little forward to speak, shook her head after speaking, and became upright again when silent. Miss Clarissa never moved her arms. She sometimes played tunes upon them with her fingers--minuets and marches, I should think--but never moved them.
"Our niece's position, or supposed position, is much changed by our brother Francis's death," said Miss Lavinia, "and therefore we consider our brother's opinions as regarded her position as being changed too. We have no reason to doubt, Mr. Copperfield, that you are a young gentleman possessed of good qualities and honourable character, or that you have an affection--or are fully persuaded that you have an affection--for our niece."
I replied, as I usually did whenever I had a chance, that nobody had ever loved anybody else as I loved Dora. Traddles came to my assistance with a confirmatory murmur.
Miss Lavinia was going on to make some rejoinder, when Miss Clarissa, who appeared to be incessantly beset by a desire to refer to her brother Francis, struck in again:
"If Dora's mamma," she said, "when she married our brother Francis, had at once said that there was not room for the family at the dinner-table, it would have been better for the happiness of all parties."
"Sister Clarissa," said Miss Lavinia, "perhaps we needn't mind that now."
"Sister Lavinia," said Miss Clarissa, "it belongs to the subject. With your branch of the subject, on which alone you are competent to speak, I should not think of interfering. On this branch of the subject I have a voice and an opinion. It would have been better for the happiness of all parties, if Dora's mamma, when she married our brother Francis, had mentioned plainly what her intentions were. We should then have known what we had to expect. We should have said 'pray do not invite us, at any time,' and all possibility of misunderstanding would have been avoided."
When Miss Clarissa had shaken her head, Miss Lavinia resumed, again referring to my letter through her eye-glass. They both had little bright round twinkling eyes, by the way, which were like birds' eyes. They were not unlike birds, altogether, having a sharp brisk, sudden manner, and a little short, spruce way of adjusting themselves, like canaries.
Miss Lavinia, as I have said, resumed:
"You asked permission of my sister Clarissa and myself, Mr. Copperfield, to visit here, as the accepted suitor of our niece."
"If our brother Francis," said Miss Clarissa, breaking out again, if I may call anything so calm a breaking out, "wished to surround himself with an atmosphere of Doctors' Commons, and of Doctors' Commons only, what right or desire had we to object? None, I am sure. We have ever been far from wishing to obtrude ourselves on anyone. But why not say so? Let our brother Francis and his wife have their society. Let my sister Lavinia and myself have our society. We can find it ourselves, I hope!"
As this appeared to be addressed to Traddles and me, both Traddles and I made some sort of reply. Traddles was inaudible. I think I observed, myself, that it was highly creditable to all concerned. I don't in the least know what I meant.
"Sister Lavinia," said Miss Clarissa, having now relieved her mind, "you can go on, my dear."
Miss Lavinia proceeded:
"Mr. Copperfield, my sister Clarissa and I have been very careful indeed in considering. this letter, and we have not considered it without finally showing it to our niece, and discussing it with our niece. We have no doubt that you think you like her very much."
"Think, ma'am," I rapturously began, "oh!--"
But Miss Clarissa giving me a look (just like a sharp canary) as requesting that I would not interrupt the oracle, I begged pardon.
"Affection," said Miss Lavinia, glancing at her sister for corroboration, which she gave in the form of a little nod to every clause, "mature affection, homage, devotion, does not easily express itself. Its voice is low. It is modest and retiring, it lies in ambush, waits and waits. Such is the mature fruit. Sometimes a life glides away, and finds it still ripening in the shade."
Of course I did not understand then that this was an allusion to her supposed experience of the stricken Pidger, but I saw, from the gravity with which Miss Clarissa nodded her head, that great weight was attached to these words.
"The light--for I call them, in comparison with such sentiments, the light--inclinations of very-young people," pursued Miss Lavinia, "are dust, compared to rocks. It is owing to the difficulty of knowing whether they are likely to endure or have any real foundation, that my sister Clarissa and myself have been very undecided how to act, Mr. Copperfield, and Mr.--"
"Traddles," said my friend, finding himself looked at.
"I beg pardon. Of the Inner Temple, I believe?" said Miss Clarissa, again glancing at my letter.
Traddles said "Exactly so," and became pretty red in the face.
Now, although I had not received any express encouragement as yet, I fancied that I saw in the two little sisters, and particularly in Miss Lavinia, an intensified enjoyment of this new and fruitful subject of domestic interest, a settling down to make the most of it, a dispo
sition to pet it, in which there was a good bright ray of hope. I thought I perceived that Miss Lavinia would have uncommon satisfaction in superintending two young lovers, like Dora and me, and that Miss Clarissa would have hardly less satisfaction in seeing her superintend us, and in chiming in with her own. particular department of the subject whenever that impulse was strong upon her. This gave me courage to protest most vehemently that I loved Dora better than I could tell, or anyone believe, that all my friends knew how I loved her, that my aunt, Agnes, Traddles, everyone who knew me, knew how I loved her, and how earnest my love had made me. For the truth of this, I appealed to Traddles. And Traddles, firing up as if he were plunging into a Parliamentary Debate, really did come out nobly, confirming me in good round terms, and in a plain sensible practical manner, that evidently made a favourable impression.
"I speak, if I may presume to say so, as one who has some little experience of such things," said Traddles, "being myself engaged to a young lady--one of ten, down in Devonshire--and seeing no probability, at present, of our engagement coming to a termination."
"You may be able to confirm what I have said, Mr. Traddles," observed Miss Lavinia, evidently taking a new interest in him, "of the affection that is modest and retiring, that waits and waits?"
"Entirely, ma'am," said Traddles.
Miss Clarissa looked at Miss Lavinia, and shook her head gravely. Miss Lavinia looked consciously at Miss Clarissa, and heaved a little sigh.