david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第168章

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into　this　room；　but　an　influence　comes　over　me　in　that　short　
interval　that　alters　me；　oh；　how　much　for　the　better！　What　is　it？　
What　is　your　secret；　Agnes？’　

Her　head　was　bent　down；　looking　at　the　fire。　

‘It’s　the　old　story；’　said　I。　‘Don’t　laugh；　when　I　say　it　was　always　
the　same　in　little　things　as　it　is　in　greater　ones。　My　old　troubles　
were　nonsense；　and　now　they　are　serious；　but　whenever　I　have　
gone　away　from　my　adopted　sister—’　

Agnes　looked　up—with　such　a　Heavenly　face！—and　gave　me　
her　hand；　which　I　kissed。　

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David　Copperfield　

‘Whenever　I　have　not　had　you；　Agnes；　to　advise　and　approve　in　
the　beginning；　I　have　seemed　to　go　wild；　and　to　get　into　all　sorts　of　
difficulty。　When　I　have　come　to　you；　at　last　（as　I　have　always　done）；　
I　have　come　to　peace　and　happiness。　I　come　home；　now；　like　a　
tired　traveller；　and　find　such　a　blessed　sense　of　rest！’　

I　felt　so　deeply　what　I　said；　it　affected　me　so　sincerely；　that　my　
voice　failed；　and　I　covered　my　face　with　my　hand；　and　broke　into　
tears。　I　write　the　truth。　Whatever　contradictions　and　
inconsistencies　there　were　within　me；　as　there　are　within　so　many　
of　us；　whatever　might　have　been　so　different；　and　so　much　better；　
whatever　I　had　done；　in　which　I　had　perversely　wandered　away　
from　the　voice　of　my　own　heart；　I　knew　nothing　of。　I　only　knew　
that　I　was　fervently　in　earnest；　when　I　felt　the　rest　and　peace　of　
having　Agnes　near　me。　

In　her　placid　sisterly　manner；　with　her　beaming　eyes；　with　her　
tender　voice；　and　with　that　sweet　composure；　which　had　long　ago　
made　the　house　that　held　her　quite　a　sacred　place　to　me；　she　soon　
won　me　from　this　weakness；　and　led　me　on　to　tell　all　that　had　
happened　since　our　last　meeting。　

‘And　there　is　not　another　word　to　tell；　Agnes；’　said　I；　when　I　had　
made　an　end　of　my　confidence。　‘Now；　my　reliance　is　on　you。’　

‘But　it　must　not　be　on　me；　Trotwood；’　returned　Agnes；　with　a　
pleasant　smile。　‘It　must　be　on　someone　else。’　

‘On　Dora？’　said　I。　

‘Assuredly。’　

‘Why；　I　have　not　mentioned；　Agnes；’　said　I；　a　little　embarrassed；　
‘that　Dora　is　rather　difficult　to—I　would　not；　for　the　world；　say；　to　
rely　upon；　because　she　is　the　soul　of　purity　and　truth—but　rather　
difficult　to—I　hardly　know　how　to　express　it；　really；　Agnes。　She　is　

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David　Copperfield　

a　timid　little　thing；　and　easily　disturbed　and　frightened。　Some　time　
ago；　before　her　father’s　death；　when　I　thought　it　right　to　mention　
to　her—but　I’ll　tell　you；　if　you　will　bear　with　me；　how　it　was。’　

Accordingly；　I　told　Agnes　about　my　declaration　of　poverty；　
about　the　cookery…book；　the　housekeeping　accounts；　and　all　the　
rest　of　it。　‘Oh；　Trotwood！’　she　remonstrated；　with　a　smile。　‘Just　
your　old　headlong　way！　You　might　have　been　in　earnest　in　striving　
to　get　on　in　the　world；　without　being　so　very　sudden　with　a　timid；　
loving；　inexperienced　girl。　Poor　Dora！’　

I　never　heard　such　sweet　forbearing　kindness　expressed　in　a　
voice；　as　she　expressed　in　making　this　reply。　It　was　as　if　I　had　seen　
her　admiringly　and　tenderly　embracing　Dora；　and　tacitly　
reproving　me；　by　her　considerate　protection；　for　my　hot　haste　in　
fluttering　that　little　heart。　It　was　as　if　I　had　seen　Dora；　in　all　her　
fascinating　artlessness；　caressing　Agnes；　and　thanking　her；　and　
coaxingly　appealing　against　me；　and　loving　me　with　all　her　
childish　innocence。　

I　felt　so　grateful　to　Agnes；　and　admired　her　so！　I　saw　those　two　
together；　in　a　bright　perspective；　such　well…associated　friends；　
each　adorning　the　other　so　much！　

‘What　ought　I　to　do　then；　Agnes？’　I　inquired；　after　looking　at　the　
fire　a　little　while。　‘What　would　it　be　right　to　do？’　

‘I　think；’　said　Agnes；　‘that　the　honourable　course　to　take；　would　
be　to　write　to　those　two　ladies。　Don’t　you　think　that　any　secret　
course　is　an　unworthy　one？’　

‘Yes。　If　you　think　so；’　said　I。　

‘I　am　poorly　qualified　to　judge　of　such　matters；’　replied　Agnes；　
with　a　modest　hesitation；　‘but　I　certainly　feel—in　short；　I　feel　that　
your　being　secret　and　clandestine；　is　not　being　like　yourself。’　

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‘Like　myself；　in　the　too　high　opinion　you　have　of　me；　Agnes；　I　
am　afraid；’　said　I。　

‘Like　yourself；　in　the　candour　of　your　nature；’　she　returned；　
‘and　therefore　I　would　write　to　those　two　ladies。　I　would　relate；　as　
plainly　and　as　openly　as　possible；　all　that　has　taken　place；　and　I　
would　ask　their　permission　to　visit　sometimes；　at　their　house。　
Considering　that　you　are　young；　and　striving　for　a　place　in　life；　I　
think　it　would　be　well　to　say　that　you　would　readily　abide　by　any　
conditions　they　might　impose　upon　you。　I　would　entreat　them　not　
to　dismiss　your　request；　without　a　reference　to　Dora；　and　to　
discuss　it　with　her　when　they　should　think　the　time　suitable。　I　
would　not　be　too　vehement；’　said　Agnes；　gently；　‘or　propose　too　
much。　I　would　trust　to　my　fidelity　and　perseverance—and　to　Dora。’　

‘But　if　they　were　to　frighten　Dora　again；　Agnes；　by　speaking　to　
her；’　said　I。　‘And　if　Dora　were　to　cry；　and　say　nothing　about　me！’　

‘Is　that　likely？’　inquired　Agnes；　with　the　same　sweet　
consideration　in　her　face。　

‘God　bless　her；　she　is　as　easily　scared　as　a　bird；’　said　I。　‘It　might　
be！　Or　if　the　two　Miss　Spenlows　（elderly　ladies　of　that　sort　are　odd　
characters　sometimes）　should　not　be　likely　persons　to　address　in　
that　way！’　

‘I　don’t　think；　Trotwood；’　returned　Agnes；　raising　her　soft　eyes　
to　mine；　‘I　would　consider　that。　Perhaps　it　would　be　better　only　to　
consider　whether　it　is　right　to　do　this；　and；　if　it　is；　to　do　it。’　

I　had　no　longer　any　doubt　on　the　subject。　With　a　lightened　
heart；　though　with　a　profound　sense　of　the　weighty　importance　of　
my　task；　I　devoted　the　whole　afternoon　to　the　composition　of　the　
draft　of　this　letter；　for　which　great　purpose；　Agnes　relinquished　
her　desk　to　me。　But　first　I　went　downstairs　to　see　Mr。　Wickfield　

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and　Uriah　Heep。　

I　found　Uriah　in　possession　of　a　new；　plaster…smelling　office；　
built　out　in　the　garden；　looking　extraordinarily　mean；　in　the　midst　
of　a　quantity　of　books　and　papers。　He　received　me　in　his　usual　
fawning　way；　and　pretended　not　to　have　heard　of　my　arrival　from　
Mr。　Micawber；　a　pretence　I　took　the　liberty　of　disbelieving。　He　
accompanied　me　into　Mr。　Wickfield’s　room；　which　was　the　shadow　
of　its　former　self—having　been　divested　of　a　variety　of　
conveniences；　for　the　accommodation　of　the　new　partner—and　
stood　before　the　fire；　warming　his　back；　and　shaving　his　chin　with　
his　bony　hand；　while　Mr。　Wickfield　and　I　exchanged　greetings。　

‘You　stay　with　us；　Trotwood；　while　you　remain　in　Canterbury？’　
said　Mr。　Wickfield；　not　without　a　glance　at　Uriah　for　his　approval。　

‘Is　there　room　for　me？’　said　I。　

‘I　am　sure；　Master　Copperfield—I　should　say　Mister；　but　the　
other　comes　so　natural；’　said　Uriah；—’I　would　turn　out　of　your　old　
room　with　pleasure；　if　it　would　be　agreeable。’　

‘No；　no；’　said　Mr。　Wickfield。　‘Why　should　you　be　
inconvenienced？　There’s　another　room。　There’s　another　room。’　

‘Oh；　but　you　know；’　returned　Uriah；　with　a　grin；　‘I　should　really　
be　delighted！’　

To　cut　the　matter　short；　I　said　I　would　have　the　other　room　or　
none　at　all；　so　it　was　settled　that　I　should　have　the　other　room；　
and；　taking　my　leave　of　the　firm　until　dinner；　I　went　upstairs　
again。　

I　had　hoped　to　have　no　other　companion　than　Agnes。　But　Mrs。　
Heep　had　asked　permission　to　bring　herself　and　her　knitting　near　
the　fire；　in　that　room；　on　pretence　of　its　having　an　aspect　more　
favourable　for　her　rheumatics；　as　the　wind　then　was；　than　the　

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David　Copperfield　

drawing…room　or　dining…parlour。　Though　I　could　almost　have　
consigned　her　to　the　mercies　of　the　wind　on　the　topmost　pinnacle　
of　the　Cathedral；　without　remorse；　I　made　a　virtue　of　necessity；　
and　gave　her　a　friendly　salutation。　

‘I’m　umbly　thankful　to　you；　sir；’　said　Mrs。　Heep；　in　
ac