I don’t know how I did it. I did it in a moment.I intercepted Jip. I had Dora in my arms.I was full of eloquence. I never stopped for a word.I told her how I loved her.I told her I should die without her.I told her that I idolized and worshipped her.Jip barked madly all the time.
When Dora hung her head and cried, and trembled,my eloquence increased so much the more.If she would like me to die for her,she had but to say the word, and I was ready.Life without Dora’s love was not a thing to have on any terms.I couldn’t bear it, and I wouldn’t.I had loved her every minute, day and night,since I first saw her.I loved her at that minute to distraction.I should always love her, every minute, to distraction.Lovers had loved before, and lovers would love again;but no lover had loved, might, could, would,or should ever love, as I loved Dora. The more I raved,the more Jip barked. Each of us, in his own way,got more mad every moment.
Well, well!Dora and I were sitting on the sofa by and by,quiet enough, and Jip was lying in her lap,winking peacefully at me. It was off my mind.I was in a state of perfect rapture.Dora and I were engaged.
I suppose we had some notion that this was to end in marriage.We must have had some,because Dora stipulated that we were never to be married without her papa’s consent. But, in our youthful ecstasy, I don’t think that we really looked before us or behind us; or had any aspiration beyond the ignorant present. We were to keep our secret from Mr. Spenlow; but I am sure the idea never entered my head, then, that there was anything dishonourable in that.
Miss Mills was more than usually pensive when Dora,going to find her, brought her back;--I apprehend,because there was a tendency in what had passed to awaken the slumbering echoes in the caverns of Memory. But she gave us her blessing, and the assurance of her lasting friendship, and spoke to us, generally, as became a Voice from the Cloister.
What an idle time it was!What an insubstantial, happy, foolish time it was!
When I measured Dora’s finger for a ring that was to be made of Forget-me-nots,and when the jeweller, to whom I took the measure,found me out, and laughed over his order-book,and charged me anything he liked for the pretty little toy,with its blue stones--so associated in my remembrance with Dora’s hand,that yesterday, when I saw such another, by chance,on the finger of my own daughter,there was a momentary stirring in my heart, like pain!
When I walked about, exalted with my secret,and full of my own interest,and felt the dignity of loving Dora,and of being beloved, so much,that if I had walked the air,I could not have been more above the people not so situated,who were creeping on the earth!
When we had those meetings in the garden of the square,and sat within the dingy summer-house, so happy,that I love the London sparrows to this hour,for nothing else, and see the plumage of the tropics in their smoky feathers!When we had our first great quarrel (within a week of our betrothal),and when Dora sent me back the ring,enclosed in a despairing cocked-hat note,wherein she used the terrible expression that ‘our love had begun in folly,and ended in madness!’ which dreadful words occasioned me to tear my hair,and cry that all was over!
When, under cover of the night, I flew to Miss Mills,whom I saw by stealth in a back kitchen where there was a mangle,and implored Miss Mills to interpose between us and avert insanity.When Miss Mills undertook the office and returned with Dora,exhorting us, from the pulpit of her own bitter youth,to mutual concession,and the avoidance of the Desert of Sahara!
When we cried, and made it up, and were so blest again,that the back kitchen, mangle and all,changed to Love’s own temple,where we arranged a plan of correspondence through Miss Mills,always to comprehend at least one letter on each side every day!
What an idle time!What an insubstantial, happy, foolish time!Of all the times of mine that Time has in his grip,there is none that in one retrospect I can smile at half so much,and think of half so tenderly.
CHAPTER 34. MY AUNT ASTONISHES ME
I wrote to Agnes as soon as Dora and I were engaged.I wrote her a long letter,in which I tried to make her comprehend how blest I was,and what a darling Dora was.I entreated Agnes not to regard this as a thoughtless passion which could ever yield to any other, or had the least resemblance to the boyish fancies that we used to joke about. I assured her that its profundity was quite unfathomable, and expressed my belief that nothing like it had ever been known.
Somehow, as I wrote to Agnes on a fine evening by my open window,and the remembrance of her clear calm eyes and gentle face came stealing over me, it shed such a peaceful influence upon the hurry and agitation in which I had been living lately, and of which my very happiness partook in some degree, that it soothed me into tears. I remember that I sat resting my head upon my hand, when the letter was half done, cherishing a general fancy as if Agnes were one of the elements of my natural home. As if, in the retirement of the house made almost sacred to me by her presence, Dora and I must be happier than anywhere. As if, in love, joy, sorrow, hope, or disappointment; in all emotions; my heart turned naturally there, and found its refuge and best friend.
Of Steerforth I said nothing.I only told her there had been sad grief at Yarmouth,on account of Emily’s flight;and that on me it made a double wound,by reason of the circumstances attending it.I knew how quick she always was to divine the truth,and that she would never be the first to breathe his name.
To this letter, I received an answer by return of post.As I read it, I seemed to hear Agnes speaking to me.It was like her cordial voice in my ears.What can I say more!
While I had been away from home lately,Traddles had called twice or thrice.Finding Peggotty within,and being informed by Peggotty (who always volunteered that information to whomsoever would receive it), that she was my old nurse, he had established a good-humoured acquaintance with her, and had stayed to have a little chat with her about me. So Peggotty said; but I am afraid the chat was all on her own side, and of immoderate length, as she was very difficult indeed to stop, God bless her!when she had me for her theme.