...e David!’ said Mr. Dick.
‘But what I want you to be, Trot,’ resumed my aunt, ‘—I don’t
mean physically, but morally; you are very well physically—is, a
firm fellow. A fine firm fellow, with a will of your own. With
resolution,’ said my aunt, shaking her cap at me, and clenching
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David Copperfield
her hand. ‘With determination. With character, Trot—with
strength of character that is not to be influenced, except on good
reason, by anybody, or by anything. That’s what I want you to be.
That’s what your father and mother might both have been,
Heaven knows, and been the better for it.’
I intimated that I hoped I should be what she described.
‘That you may begin, in a small way, to have a reliance upon
yourself, and to act for yourself,’ said my aunt, ‘I shall send you
upon your trip, alone. I did think, once, of Mr. Dick’s going with
you; but, on second thoughts, I shall keep him to take care of me.’
Mr. Dick, for a moment, looked a little disappointed; until the
honour and dignity of having to take care of the most wonderful
woman in the world, restored the sunshine to his face.
‘Besides,’ said my aunt, ‘there’s the Memorial—’
‘Oh, certainly,’ said Mr. Dick, in a hurry, ‘I intend, Trotwood, to
get that done immediately—it really must be done immediately!
And then it will go in, you know—and then—’ said Mr. Dick, after
checking himself, and pausing a long time, ‘there’ll be a pretty
kettle of fish!’
In pursuance of my aunt’s kind scheme, I was shortly
afterwards fitted out with a handsome purse of money, and a
portmanteau, and tenderly dismissed upon my expedition. At
parting, my aunt gave me some good advice, and a good many
kisses; and said that as her object was that I should look about me,
and should think a little, she would recommend me to stay a few
days in London, if I liked it, either on my way down into Suffolk,
or in coming back. In a word, I was at liberty to do what I would,
for three weeks or a month; and no other conditions were imposed
upon my freedom than the before-mentioned thinking and looking
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David Copperfield
about me, and a pledge to write three times a week and faithfully
report myself.
I went to Canterbury first, that I might take leave of Agnes and
Mr. Wickfield (my old room in whose house I had not yet
relinquished), and also of the good Doctor. Agnes was very glad to
see me, and told me that the house had not been like itself since I
had left it.
‘I am sure I am not like myself when I am away,’ said I. ‘I seem
to want my right hand, when I miss you. Though that’s not saying
much; for there’s no head in my right **nd no heart.
Everyone who knows you, consults with you, and is guided by you,
Agnes.’
‘Everyone who knows me, spoils me, I believe,’ she answered,
smiling.
‘No. it’s because you are like no one else. You are so good, and
so sweet-tempered. You have such a gentle nature, and you are
always right.’
‘You talk,’ said Agnes, breaking into a pleasant laugh, as she sat
at work, ‘as if I were the late Miss Larkins.’
‘Come! It’s not fair to abuse my confidence,’ I answered,
reddening at the recollection of my blue enslaver. ‘But I shall
confide in you, j