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Charles Dickens
Chapter 15
Charles Dickens
 
 
1       Mr. Dick and I soon became the best of friends, and very often,
2  when his day's work was done, went out together to fly the great
3  kite. Every day of his life he had a long sitting at the Memorial,
4  which never made the least progress, however hard he laboured, for
5  King Charles the First always strayed into it, sooner or later, and
6  then it was thrown aside, and another one begun. The patience and
7  hope with which he bore these perpetual disappointments, the mild
8  perception he had that there was something wrong about King Charles
9  the First, the feeble efforts he made to keep him out, and the
10  certainty with which he came in, and tumbled the Memorial out of
11  all shape, made a deep impression on me. What Mr. Dick supposed
12  would come of the Memorial, if it were completed; where he thought
13  it was to go, or what he thought it was to do; he knew no more than
14  anybody else, I believe. Nor was it at all necessary that he
15  should trouble himself with such questions, for if anything were
16  certain under the sun, it was certain that the Memorial never would
17  be finished. It was quite an affecting sight, I used to think, to
18  see him with the kite when it was up a great height in the air.
19  What he had told me, in his room, about his belief in its
20  disseminating the statements pasted on it, which were nothing but
21  old leaves of abortive Memorials, might have been a fancy with him
22  sometimes; but not when he was out, looking up at the kite in the
23  sky, and feeling it pull and tug at his hand. He never looked so
24  serene as he did then. I used to fancy, as I sat by him of an
25  evening, on a green slope, and saw him watch the kite high in the
26  quiet air, that it lifted his mind out of its confusion, and bore
27  it (such was my boyish thought) into the skies. As he wound the
28  string in and it came lower and lower down out of the beautiful
29  light, until it fluttered to the ground, and lay there like a dead
30  thing, he seemed to wake gradually out of a dream; and I remember
31  to have seen him take it up, and look about him in a lost way, as
32  if they had both come down together, so that I pitied him with all
33  my heart.

34       While I advanced in friendship and intimacy with Mr. Dick, I did
35  not go backward in the favour of his staunch friend, my aunt. She
36  took so kindly to me, that, in the course of a few weeks, she
37  shortened my adopted name of Trotwood into Trot; and even
38  encouraged me to hope, that if I went on as I had begun, I might
39  take equal rank in her affections with my sister Betsey Trotwood.

40       'Trot,' said my aunt one evening, when the backgammon-board was
41  placed as usual for herself and Mr. Dick, 'we must not forget your
42  education.'

43       This was my only subject of anxiety, and I felt quite delighted by
44  her referring to it.

45       'Should you like to go to school at Canterbury?' said my aunt.

46       I replied that I should like it very much, as it was so near her.

47       'Good,' said my aunt. 'Should you like to go tomorrow?'

48       Being already no stranger to the general rapidity of my aunt's
49  evolutions, I was not surprised by the suddenness of the proposal,
50  and said: 'Yes.'

51       'Good,' said my aunt again. 'Janet, hire the grey pony and chaise
52  tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, and pack up Master Trotwood's
53  clothes tonight.'

54       I was greatly elated by these orders; but my heart smote me for my
55  selfishness, when I witnessed their effect on Mr. Dick, who was so
56  low-spirited at the prospect of our separation, and played so ill
57  in consequence, that my aunt, after giving him several admonitory
58  raps on the knuckles with her dice-box, shut up the board, and
59  declined to play with him any more. But, on hearing from my aunt
60  that I should sometimes come over on a Saturday, and that he could
61  sometimes come and see me on a Wednesday, he revived; and vowed to
62  make another kite for those occasions, of proportions greatly
63  surpassing the present one. In the morning he was downhearted
64  again, and would have sustained himself by giving me all the money
65  he had in his possession, gold and silver too, if my aunt had not
66  interposed, and limited the gift to five shillings, which, at his
67  earnest petition, were afterwards increased to ten. We parted at
68  the garden-gate in a most affectionate manner, and Mr. Dick did not
69  go into the house until my aunt had driven me out of sight of it.

70       My aunt, who was perfectly indifferent to public opinion, drove the
71  grey pony through Dover in a masterly manner; sitting high and
72  stiff like a state coachman, keeping a steady eye upon him wherever
73  he went, and making a point of not letting him have his own way in
74  any respect. When we came into the country road, she permitted him
75  to relax a little, however; and looking at me down in a valley of
76  cushion by her side, asked me whether I was happy?

77       'Very happy indeed, thank you, aunt,' I said.

78       She was much gratified; and both her hands being occupied, patted
79  me on the head with her whip.

80       'Is it a large school, aunt?' I asked.

81       'Why, I don't know,' said my aunt. 'We are going to Mr.
82  Wickfield's first.'

83       'Does he keep a school?' I asked.

84       'No, Trot,' said my aunt. 'He keeps an office.'

85       I asked for no more information about Mr. Wickfield, as she offered
86  none, and we conversed on other subjects until we came to
87  Canterbury, where, as it was market-day, my aunt had a great
88  opportunity of insinuating the grey pony among carts, baskets,
89  vegetables, and huckster's goods. The hair-breadth turns and
90  twists we made, drew down upon us a variety of speeches from the
91  people standing about, which were not always complimentary; but my
92  aunt drove on with perfect indifference, and I dare say would have
93  taken her own way with as much coolness through an enemy's country.

94       At length we stopped before a very old house bulging out over the
95  road; a house with long low lattice-windows bulging out still
96  farther, and beams with carved heads on the ends bulging out too,
97  so that I fancied the whole house was leaning forward, trying to
98  see who was passing on the narrow pavement below. It was quite
99  spotless in its cleanliness. The old-fashioned brass knocker on
100  the low arched door, ornamented with carved garlands of fruit and
101  flowers, twinkled like a star; the two stone steps descending to
102  the door were as white as if they had been covered with fair linen;
103  and all the angles and corners, and carvings and mouldings, and
104  quaint little panes of glass, and quainter little windows, though
105  as old as the hills, were as pure as any snow that ever fell upon
106  the hills.

107       When the pony-chaise stopped at the door, and my eyes were intent
108  upon the house, I saw a cadaverous face appear at a small window on
109  the ground floor (in a little round tower that formed one side of
110  the house), and quickly disappear. The low arched door then
111  opened, and the face came out. It was quite as cadaverous as it
112  had looked in the window, though in the grain of it there was that
113  tinge of red which is sometimes to be observed in the skins of
114  red-haired people. It belonged to a red-haired person - a youth of
115  fifteen, as I take it now, but looking much older - whose hair was
116  cropped as close as the closest stubble; who had hardly any
117  eyebrows, and no eyelashes, and eyes of a red-brown, so unsheltered
118  and unshaded, that I remember wondering how he went to sleep. He
119  was high-shouldered and bony; dressed in decent black, with a white
120  wisp of a neckcloth; buttoned up to the throat; and had a long,
121  lank, skeleton hand, which particularly attracted my attention, as
122  he stood at the pony's head, rubbing his chin with it, and looking
123  up at us in the chaise.

124       'Is Mr. Wickfield at home, Uriah Heep?' said my aunt.

125       'Mr. Wickfield's at home, ma'am,' said Uriah Heep, 'if you'll
126  please to walk in there' - pointing with his long hand to the room
127  he meant.

128       We got out; and leaving him to hold the pony, went into a long low
129  parlour looking towards the street, from the window of which I
130  caught a glimpse, as I went in, of Uriah Heep breathing into the
131  pony's nostrils, and immediately covering them with his hand, as if
132  he were putting some spell upon him. Opposite to the tall old
133  chimney-piece were two portraits: one of a gentleman with grey hair
134  (though not by any means an old man) and black eyebrows, who was
135  looking over some papers tied together with red tape; the other, of
136  a lady, with a very placid and sweet expression of face, who was
137  looking at me.

138       I believe I was turning about in search of Uriah's picture, when,
139  a door at the farther end of the room opening, a gentleman entered,
140  at sight of whom I turned to the first-mentioned portrait again, to
141  make quite sure that it had not come out of its frame. But it was
142  stationary; and as the gentleman advanced into the light, I saw
143  that he was some years older than when he had had his picture
144  painted.

145       'Miss Betsey Trotwood,' said the gentleman, 'pray walk in. I was
146  engaged for a moment, but you'll excuse my being busy. You know my
147  motive. I have but one in life.'

148       Miss Betsey thanked him, and we went into his room, which was
149  furnished as an office, with books, papers, tin boxes, and so
150  forth. It looked into a garden, and had an iron safe let into the
151  wall; so immediately over the mantelshelf, that I wondered, as I
152  sat down, how the sweeps got round it when they swept the chimney.

153       'Well, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield; for I soon found that it
154  was he, and that he was a lawyer, and steward of the estates of a
155  rich gentleman of the county; 'what wind blows you here? Not an
156  ill wind, I hope?'

157       'No,' replied my aunt. 'I have not come for any law.'

158       'That's right, ma'am,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'You had better come
159  for anything else.'
160  His hair was quite white now, though his eyebrows were still black.
161  He had a very agreeable face, and, I thought, was handsome. There
162  was a certain richness in his complexion, which I had been long
163  accustomed, under Peggotty's tuition, to connect with port wine;
164  and I fancied it was in his voice too, and referred his growing
165  corpulency to the same cause. He was very cleanly dressed, in a
166  blue coat, striped waistcoat, and nankeen trousers; and his fine
167  frilled shirt and cambric neckcloth looked unusually soft and
168  white, reminding my strolling fancy (I call to mind) of the plumage
169  on the breast of a swan.

170       'This is my nephew,' said my aunt.

171       'Wasn't aware you had one, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield.

172       'My grand-nephew, that is to say,' observed my aunt.

173       'Wasn't aware you had a grand-nephew, I give you my word,' said Mr.
174  Wickfield.

175       'I have adopted him,' said my aunt, with a wave of her hand,
176  importing that his knowledge and his ignorance were all one to her,
177  'and I have brought him here, to put to a school where he may be
178  thoroughly well taught, and well treated. Now tell me where that
179  school is, and what it is, and all about it.'

180       'Before I can advise you properly,' said Mr. Wickfield - 'the old
181  question, you know. What's your motive in this?'

182       'Deuce take the man!' exclaimed my aunt. 'Always fishing for
183  motives, when they're on the surface! Why, to make the child happy
184  and useful.'

185       'It must be a mixed motive, I think,' said Mr. Wickfield, shaking
186  his head and smiling incredulously.

187       'A mixed fiddlestick,' returned my aunt. 'You claim to have one
188  plain motive in all you do yourself. You don't suppose, I hope,
189  that you are the only plain dealer in the world?'

190       'Ay, but I have only one motive in life, Miss Trotwood,' he
191  rejoined, smiling. 'Other people have dozens, scores, hundreds.
192  I have only one. There's the difference. However, that's beside
193  the question. The best school? Whatever the motive, you want the
194  best?'

195       My aunt nodded assent.

196       'At the best we have,' said Mr. Wickfield, considering, 'your
197  nephew couldn't board just now.'

198       'But he could board somewhere else, I suppose?' suggested my aunt.

199       Mr. Wickfield thought I could. After a little discussion, he
200  proposed to take my aunt to the school, that she might see it and
201  judge for herself; also, to take her, with the same object, to two
202  or three houses where he thought I could be boarded. My aunt
203  embracing the proposal, we were all three going out together, when
204  he stopped and said:

205       'Our little friend here might have some motive, perhaps, for
206  objecting to the arrangements. I think we had better leave him
207  behind?'

208       My aunt seemed disposed to contest the point; but to facilitate
209  matters I said I would gladly remain behind, if they pleased; and
210  returned into Mr. Wickfield's office, where I sat down again, in
211  the chair I had first occupied, to await their return.

212       It so happened that this chair was opposite a narrow passage, which
213  ended in the little circular room where I had seen Uriah Heep's
214  pale face looking out of the window. Uriah, having taken the pony
215  to a neighbouring stable, was at work at a desk in this room, which
216  had a brass frame on the top to hang paper upon, and on which the
217  writing he was making a copy of was then hanging. Though his face
218  was towards me, I thought, for some time, the writing being between
219  us, that he could not see me; but looking that way more
220  attentively, it made me uncomfortable to observe that, every now
221  and then, his sleepless eyes would come below the writing, like two
222  red suns, and stealthily stare at me for I dare say a whole minute
223  at a time, during which his pen went, or pretended to go, as
224  cleverly as ever. I made several attempts to get out of their way
225  - such as standing on a chair to look at a map on the other side of
226  the room, and poring over the columns of a Kentish newspaper - but
227  they always attracted me back again; and whenever I looked towards
228  those two red suns, I was sure to find them, either just rising or
229  just setting.

230       At length, much to my relief, my aunt and Mr. Wickfield came back,
231  after a pretty long absence. They were not so successful as I
232  could have wished; for though the advantages of the school were
233  undeniable, my aunt had not approved of any of the boarding-houses
234  proposed for me.

235       'It's very unfortunate,' said my aunt. 'I don't know what to do,
236  Trot.'

237       'It does happen unfortunately,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'But I'll tell
238  you what you can do, Miss Trotwood.'

239       'What's that?' inquired my aunt.

240       'Leave your nephew here, for the present. He's a quiet fellow. He
241  won't disturb me at all. It's a capital house for study. As quiet
242  as a monastery, and almost as roomy. Leave him here.'

243       My aunt evidently liked the offer, though she was delicate of
244  accepting it. So did I.
245  'Come, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'This is the way out of
246  the difficulty. It's only a temporary arrangement, you know. If
247  it don't act well, or don't quite accord with our mutual
248  convenience, he can easily go to the right-about. There will be
249  time to find some better place for him in the meanwhile. You had
250  better determine to leave him here for the present!'

251       'I am very much obliged to you,' said my aunt; 'and so is he, I
252  see; but -'

253       'Come! I know what you mean,' cried Mr. Wickfield. 'You shall not
254  be oppressed by the receipt of favours, Miss Trotwood. You may pay
255  for him, if you like. We won't be hard about terms, but you shall
256  pay if you will.'

257       'On that understanding,' said my aunt, 'though it doesn't lessen
258  the real obligation, I shall be very glad to leave him.'

259       'Then come and see my little housekeeper,' said Mr. Wickfield.

260       We accordingly went up a wonderful old staircase; with a balustrade
261  so broad that we might have gone up that, almost as easily; and
262  into a shady old drawing-room, lighted by some three or four of the
263  quaint windows I had looked up at from the street: which had old
264  oak seats in them, that seemed to have come of the same trees as
265  the shining oak floor, and the great beams in the ceiling. It was
266  a prettily furnished room, with a piano and some lively furniture
267  in red and green, and some flowers. It seemed to be all old nooks
268  and corners; and in every nook and corner there was some queer
269  little table, or cupboard, or bookcase, or seat, or something or
270  other, that made me think there was not such another good corner in
271  the room; until I looked at the next one, and found it equal to it,
272  if not better. On everything there was the same air of retirement
273  and cleanliness that marked the house outside.

274       Mr. Wickfield tapped at a door in a corner of the panelled wall,
275  and a girl of about my own age came quickly out and kissed him. On
276  her face, I saw immediately the placid and sweet expression of the
277  lady whose picture had looked at me downstairs. It seemed to my
278  imagination as if the portrait had grown womanly, and the original
279  remained a child. Although her face was quite bright and happy,
280  there was a tranquillity about it, and about her - a quiet, good,
281  calm spirit - that I never have forgotten; that I shall never
282  forget. This was his little housekeeper, his daughter Agnes, Mr.
283  Wickfield said. When I heard how he said it, and saw how he held
284  her hand, I guessed what the one motive of his life was.

285       She had a little basket-trifle hanging at her side, with keys in
286  it; and she looked as staid and as discreet a housekeeper as the
287  old house could have. She listened to her father as he told her
288  about me, with a pleasant face; and when he had concluded, proposed
289  to my aunt that we should go upstairs and see my room. We all went
290  together, she before us: and a glorious old room it was, with more
291  oak beams, and diamond panes; and the broad balustrade going all
292  the way up to it.

293       I cannot call to mind where or when, in my childhood, I had seen a
294  stained glass window in a church. Nor do I recollect its subject.
295  But I know that when I saw her turn round, in the grave light of
296  the old staircase, and wait for us, above, I thought of that
297  window; and I associated something of its tranquil brightness with
298  Agnes Wickfield ever afterwards.

299       My aunt was as happy as I was, in the arrangement made for me; and
300  we went down to the drawing-room again, well pleased and gratified.
301  As she would not hear of staying to dinner, lest she should by any
302  chance fail to arrive at home with the grey pony before dark; and
303  as I apprehend Mr. Wickfield knew her too well to argue any point
304  with her; some lunch was provided for her there, and Agnes went
305  back to her governess, and Mr. Wickfield to his office. So we were
306  left to take leave of one another without any restraint.

307       She told me that everything would be arranged for me by Mr.
308  Wickfield, and that I should want for nothing, and gave me the
309  kindest words and the best advice.

310       'Trot,' said my aunt in conclusion, 'be a credit to yourself, to
311  me, and Mr. Dick, and Heaven be with you!'

312       I was greatly overcome, and could only thank her, again and again,
313  and send my love to Mr. Dick.

314       'Never,' said my aunt, 'be mean in anything; never be false; never
315  be cruel. Avoid those three vices, Trot, and I can always be
316  hopeful of you.'

317       I promised, as well as I could, that I would not abuse her kindness
318  or forget her admonition.

319       'The pony's at the door,' said my aunt, 'and I am off! Stay here.'
320  With these words she embraced me hastily, and went out of the room,
321  shutting the door after her. At first I was startled by so abrupt
322  a departure, and almost feared I had displeased her; but when I
323  looked into the street, and saw how dejectedly she got into the
324  chaise, and drove away without looking up, I understood her better
325  and did not do her that injustice.

326       By five o'clock, which was Mr. Wickfield's dinner-hour, I had
327  mustered up my spirits again, and was ready for my knife and fork.
328  The cloth was only laid for us two; but Agnes was waiting in the
329  drawing-room before dinner, went down with her father, and sat
330  opposite to him at table. I doubted whether he could have dined
331  without her.

332       We did not stay there, after dinner, but came upstairs into the
333  drawing-room again: in one snug corner of which, Agnes set glasses
334  for her father, and a decanter of port wine. I thought he would
335  have missed its usual flavour, if it had been put there for him by
336  any other hands.

337       There he sat, taking his wine, and taking a good deal of it, for
338  two hours; while Agnes played on the piano, worked, and talked to
339  him and me. He was, for the most part, gay and cheerful with us;
340  but sometimes his eyes rested on her, and he fell into a brooding
341  state, and was silent. She always observed this quickly, I
342  thought, and always roused him with a question or caress. Then he
343  came out of his meditation, and drank more wine.

344       Agnes made the tea, and presided over it; and the time passed away
345  after it, as after dinner, until she went to bed; when her father
346  took her in his arms and kissed her, and, she being gone, ordered
347  candles in his office. Then I went to bed too.

348       But in the course of the evening I had rambled down to the door,
349  and a little way along the street, that I might have another peep
350  at the old houses, and the grey Cathedral; and might think of my
351  coming through that old city on my journey, and of my passing the
352  very house I lived in, without knowing it. As I came back, I saw
353  Uriah Heep shutting up the office; and feeling friendly towards
354  everybody, went in and spoke to him, and at parting, gave him my
355  hand. But oh, what a clammy hand his was! as ghostly to the touch
356  as to the sight! I rubbed mine afterwards, to warm it, AND TO RUB
357  HIS OFF.

358       It was such an uncomfortable hand, that, when I went to my room, it
359  was still cold and wet upon my memory. Leaning out of the window,
360  and seeing one of the faces on the beam-ends looking at me
361  sideways, I fancied it was Uriah Heep got up there somehow, and
362  shut him out in a hurry.

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