‘Ah!’ said Mr. Peggotty, taking up her curls,and running them over his hand like water,‘here’s another orphan, you see, sir. And here,’ said Mr. Peggotty,giving Ham a backhanded knock in the chest,‘is another of ‘em, though he don’t look much like it.’
‘If I had you for my guardian, Mr. Peggotty,’ said I,shaking my head, ‘I don’t think I should FEEL much like it. ’
‘Well said, Mas’r Davy bor’!’ cried Ham, in an ecstasy. ‘Hoorah!Well said!Nor more you wouldn’t!Hor!Hor!’--Here he returned Mr. Peggotty’s back-hander,and little Em’ly got up and kissed Mr. Peggotty.‘And how’s your friend, sir?’ said Mr. Peggotty to me.
‘Steerforth?’ said I.
‘That’s the name!’ cried Mr. Peggotty, turning to Ham.‘I knowed it was something in our way.’
‘You said it was Rudderford,’ observed Ham, laughing.
‘Well!’ retorted Mr. Peggotty. ‘And ye steer with a rudder, don’t ye?It ain’t fur off. How is he, sir?’
‘He was very well indeed when I came away, Mr. Peggotty. ’
‘There’s a friend!’ said Mr. Peggotty, stretching out his pipe.‘There’s a friend, if you talk of friends!Why, Lord love my heart alive,if it ain’t a treat to look at him!’
‘He is very handsome, is he not?’ said I, my heart warming with this praise.
‘Handsome!’ cried Mr. Peggotty.‘He stands up to you like--like a--why I don’t know what he don’t stand up to you like. He’s so bold!’
‘Yes!That’s just his character,’ said I.‘He’s as brave as a lion,and you can’t think how frank he is, Mr. Peggotty.’
‘And I do suppose, now,’ said Mr. Peggotty,looking at me through the smoke of his pipe,‘that in the way of book-larning he’d take the wind out of a’most anything. ’
‘Yes,’ said I, delighted; ‘he knows everything.He is astonishingly clever.’
‘There’s a friend!’ murmured Mr. Peggotty, with a grave toss of his head.
‘Nothing seems to cost him any trouble,’ said I.‘He knows a task if he only looks at it.He is the best cricketer you ever saw.He will give you almost as many men as you like at draughts,and beat you easily.’
Mr. Peggotty gave his head another toss,as much as to say: ‘Of course he will.’
‘He is such a speaker,’ I pursued,‘that he can win anybody over;and I don’t know what you’d say if you were to hear him sing, Mr. Peggotty.’
Mr. Peggotty gave his head another toss,as much as to say: ‘I have no doubt of it.’
‘Then, he’s such a generous, fine, noble fellow,’ said I, quite carried away by my favourite theme,‘that it’s hardly possible to give him as much praise as he deserves.I am sure I can never feel thankful enough for the generosity with which he has protected me, so much younger and lower in the school than himself.’
I was running on, very fast indeed,when my eyes rested on little Em’ly’s face,which was bent forward over the table,listening with the deepest attention, her breath held,her blue eyes sparkling like jewels,and the colour mantling in her cheeks.She looked so extraordinarily earnest and pretty,that I stopped in a sort of wonder;and they all observed her at the same time,for as I stopped, they laughed and looked at her.
‘Em’ly is like me,’ said Peggotty,‘and would like to see him.’
Em’ly was confused by our all observing her,and hung down her head,and her face was covered with blushes.Glancing up presently through her stray curls,and seeing that we were all looking at her still (I am sure I,for one, could have looked at her for hours),she ran away, and kept away till it was nearly bedtime.
I lay down in the old little bed in the stern of the boat,and the wind came moaning on across the flat as it had done before.But I could not help fancying, now,that it moaned of those who were gone;and instead of thinking that the sea might rise in the night and float the boat away, I thought of the sea that had risen, since I last heard those sounds, and drowned my happy home. I recollect, as the wind and water began to sound fainter in my ears, putting a short clause into my prayers, petitioning that I might grow up to marry little Em’ly, and so dropping lovingly asleep.
The days passed pretty much as they had passed before,except--it was a great exception--that little Em’ly and I seldom wandered on the beach now. She had tasks to learn, and needle-work to do; and was absent during a great part of each day. But I felt that we should not have had those old wanderings, even if it had been otherwise. Wild and full of childish whims as Em’ly was, she was more of a little woman than I had supposed. She seemed to have got a great distance away from me, in little more than a year. She liked me, but she laughed at me, and tormented me; and when I went to meet her, stole home another way, and was laughing at the door when I came back, disappointed. The best times were when she sat quietly at work in the doorway, and I sat on the wooden step at her feet, reading to her. It seems to me, at this hour, that I have never seen such sunlight as on those bright April afternoons; that I have never seen such a sunny little figure as I used to see, sitting in the doorway of the old boat; that I have never beheld such sky, such water, such glorified ships sailing away into golden air.
On the very first evening after our arrival, Mr.Barkis appeared in an exceedingly vacant and awkward condition,and with a bundle of oranges tied up in a handkerchief.As he made no allusion of any kind to this property,he was supposed to have left it behind him by accident when he went away;until Ham, running after him to restore it,came back with the information that it was intended for Peggotty.After that occasion he appeared every evening at exactly the same hour,and always with a little bundle,to which he never alluded,and which he regularly put behind the door and left there.These offerings of affection were of a most various and eccentric description.Among them I remember a double set of pigs’ trotters,a huge pin-cushion, half a bushel or so of apples,a pair of jet earrings, some Spanish onions,a box of dominoes, a canary bird and cage,and a leg of pickled pork.
Mr. Barkis’s wooing, as I remember it,was altogether of a peculiar kind.He very seldom said anything;but would sit by the fire in much the same attitude as he sat in his cart,and stare heavily at Peggotty, who was opposite.One night, being, as I suppose, inspired by love,he made a dart at the bit of wax-candle she kept for her thread,and put it in his waistcoat-pocket and carried it off.After that, his great delight was to produce it when it was wanted,sticking to the lining of his pocket,in a partially melted state,and pocket it again when it was done with.He seemed to enjoy himself very much,and not to feel at all called upon to talk.Even when he took Peggotty out for a walk on the flats,he had no uneasiness on that head, I believe;contenting himself with now and then asking her if she was pretty comfortable;and I remember that sometimes, after he was gone,Peggotty would throw her apron over her face,and laugh for half-an-hour. Indeed,we were all more or less amused,except that miserable Mrs. Gummidge,whose courtship would appear to have been of an exactly parallel nature,she was so continually reminded by these transactions of the old one.
At length, when the term of my visit was nearly expired,it was given out that Peggotty and Mr.Barkis were going to make a day’s holiday together,and that little Em’ly and I were to accompany them.I had but a broken sleep the night before,in anticipation of the pleasure of a whole day with Em’ly.We were all astir betimes in the morning;and while we were yet at breakfast, Mr.Barkis appeared in the distance,driving a chaise-cart towards the object of his affections.