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Hello and welcome to Storytime for Grown Ups. I'm Faith Moore and this season we're reading David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Each episode I'll read a few chapters from the book, pausing from time to time to give brief explanations so it's easier to follow along. It's like an audiobook with built in notes. So brew a pot of tea, find a cozy chair and settle in. It's story time. Hello. Welcome back. I want to say a big thank you to everyone who showed up for tea time last Thursday. It was such a great conversation. We had lots of people there. I was so thrilled to see so many people and we had some new people. So thank you to those of you who joined and signed up in the meantime and showed up for tea time. It was lovely to have you there and I really enjoyed also chatting with my old friends. As usual, we had a really fun and kind of spirited debate about who was more to blame, Steerforth or Emily. We talked about Mrs. Steerforth and whether or not we have any sympathy for her. And we talked for basically nearly an hour about the whole Steerforth, Emily, Mrs. Steerforth, Mr. Pegg Haggity situation. And it was really, really fun. It was a great conversation. So thank you so much for being there. I really, really appreciate it. And thank you for supporting the show by being a member of the drawing room community and choosing the landed gentry tier and joining me for tea time. Tea time happens once a month over in our online community called the Drawing Room where we withdraw after the show to keep on talking about these books and books in general. And I will schedule the one for May in the next couple of weeks or so. So I will let you know here when I do schedule it. But if you interested in joining us next time and you're not yet a member of the Drawing room, feel free to scroll into the show notes. There's a link there you can click on it. It'll give you some more information about what goes on in the drawing room and the different membership tiers that we have and then you'll be ready to go next time we have tea time. So I will alert you as soon as I have that date on the calendar. I do have one quick announcement today and I'm really excited about this and if you are already a member of the Drawing room you might know about this because I posted there about it the other day. But we have new merch in the merch store. There are two new designs and I'm really, really excited about them. One is a Barkis is Willin Design and the other is Janet Donkeys. So check it out. There's a link in the show Notes to the Merch Store. Click that link, you'll see all the designs that we have. But the two new ones are there. You can get it on pretty much anything. T shirts, sweatshirts, hats, mugs, notebooks. I think there are stickers I think we have now. So check it out. Check out all the various things that you can get and take a look at those designs. I think they came out really well. And hopefully you will pick something up from the Merch Store and represent Storytime for Grown Ups out in the world. And maybe someone will stop you and say Vargas and Willen. What is that? Or Janet Donkeys. What are you talking about? And you could tell them all about David Copperfield and maybe even Storytime for Grown Ups and get some new listeners. So I hope that you'll check out the Merch Store because we do have the those two new items available now. Okay, let's get into this episode. So last time we read chapter 33, today we're going to be reading chapter 34. So let's just review what we read last time and then we'll chat and then we'll get into the chapter. So here is the recap. Okay, so where we left off. David tells us that all this time he's still been desperately in love with Dora. And now that he's in London with Peggy, he confesses to Peggy that he is in love and Peggy thinks that's wonderful and that Dora is sure to love him back. But David takes Peggy to his office where he helps her to finalize everything about Mr. Barkus's will. While they're there, Mr. Murdstone comes in because he has just applied for a marriage license and seems to be marrying again. David and Peggy are cold to him and Peggy implies that Mr. Murdstone was the reason that the mother died. But Mr. Murdstone is the same as always and he assumes that David is still a wayward boy. Afterwards, Peggety goes back to her lodgings and David stays at work. After court, he and Mr. Spenlow walk home together and discuss the state of the legal after that, Mr. Spenlow invites David to join them for Dora's birthday party. David is elated. He gets new clothes, he hires a horse, he sends an extravagant picnic hamper as a gift. And he shows up for the party with a bouquet, which Dora seems to really enjoy. Ms. Murdstone isn't with Dora because she's gone to be with Mr. Murdstone for the wedding. And we learn that Mr. Murdstone's bride is very young, but Dora has a friend with her named Ms. Mills. They go to the picnic where a man with red whiskers seems very interested in Dora and Dora seems interested in him, which causes David to flirt shamelessly with someone else and become very upset. Ms. Mills pulls David and Dora aside and says that they've had a disagreement and that they should make up. This allows David to walk with Dora and be by her side at the picnic, and it seems like she may have feelings for him as well. Afterwards, it turns out that Dora will be staying with Ms. Mills in London and David goes to visit her there and eventually declares his love. And it turns out that she loves him too. And they get engaged, but secretly. So now they're engaged, but no one knows it and they communicate via Ms. Mills. And David is beside himself with happiness. Okay, I'm gonna read 3 comments today. And it just so happens that they all come from our online community. The drawing room just worked out that way that these are the comments that made the most sense to read. So the first one comes from the handle patty. She says Mr. Murdstone shows up. I didn't expect that. Oh, Dickens, you know how to throw us for a loop. And somehow Murdstone marrying a barely legal rich girl tracks that's something he would totally do. And then Patty posted a gif. Is it GIF or gif? I never know. Gif of Thumper from Bambi getting kissed by the girl rabbit in the movie. And it has the caption Twitter painted. And she says David in chapter 33, whenever Dora breathes is mentioned or exists. And this next one comes from ilv. He says, I'm still unconvinced that I need to take Dora seriously. Dickens is writing is top shelf, pure gold. And his descriptions of David mooning and flushing and damning red whiskers and all that is so master. But is this really deep? Calleth unto deep. There is a bit of a wink and embarrassed cough to this remembrance. Ms. Mills, she's 20 and had an affection for some chappie that didn't pan out. So now she's what, given up on the word love? Was this common back then? I suppose she works to bring David and Dora together in several ingenious ways. So it would be unfair to say she'd given up on love just for herself. Funny how to the 17 or 18 year olds she's this wise old saw. And this last one comes from wit she says, this chapter, on my second listen, I caught the sweetest little bit when David Copperfield goes into a small aside about his own daughter and seeing a similar ring. Okay, so David in love, right? This chapter has quite a different tone, I think, than the several chapters that came before it. We kind of put aside the whole Steerforth and Emily situation, or moved it to the back burner, so to speak. And we've come back to David's infatuation with Dora, which I'm on board with. We needed a little levity. It was time for some comic relief, I think. And this chapter feels kind of like a breath of fresh air. And I think by now we are getting kind of used to the sort of spiral nature of this story, right? The way in which Dickens introduces situations and characters and then moves on to something else and then comes back to the things that he left. So Dora and David's infatuation with her started before this whole Steerforth thing happened. Now the Steerforth situation is not resolved, but it's moving on to phase two, if you will, which is Mr. Peggy setting off on his journey to try to find them and bring Emily home. So I think we can feel fairly confident that we'll come back to that at some point. But since David hasn't gone with Mr. Peggy, the situation has kind of left the scope of the narrative for a while. And so we have spiraled back around to what was going on before all of that happened, which is that David had fallen head over heels in love with Dora Sullivan Spenlo, the daughter of his boss, Mr. Spenlow. And as it turns out, he is still in love with her. And in this chapter, things progress quite a bit further between them, much further than any of the other infatuations that he's had in the past. So the last time that Dora showed up, which was really the only other time that we heard about her at all, because, remember, David met her when he was invited to Mr. Spenlow's house for the weekend. And then he has seen her in passing several times because he was always walking around in places where he hoped that she would be so that he could, like, raise his hat to her or walk with her a couple of blocks or whatever. But he really doesn't know her very well at all. But the last time that we talked about Dora, the general consensus among you all seemed to be that Dora seemed sweet, but sort of empty. You know, she's pretty, she's childish, she's sort of delightfully teasing. But there's maybe not much there. And the comparison that you guys made at the time was between Dora and David's mother, Clara, that this is another sort of childish, impractical sort of person who is sweet and fun, but sort of silly. And we talked about how it made sense that David would fall for someone like this, given how much she resembles his mother and how much he really loved and kind of idolized his mother and how he lost her at such a young age and in such awful circumstances. So I think the general feeling from you guys is that Dora is so sweet, but not really who we ultimately imagine David with. And I think Phil's comment today speaks to this. I like how he brought up this idea of deep calling to deep meaning. Is this relationship that David is entering into with Dora, is it a meeting of souls and minds? Are they destined for each other? Are they soulmates? If they get married, will they have lots to talk about together and shared interests? Will Dora make a happy home for them and will she be a good and caring mother to their children together? Or. Or is this simply another of David's infatuations, which has gone further than the others because he's older now and so it can. I mean, I agree with Patty that David is kind of hopelessly enamored of Dora, such that those deeper, more meaningful elements of a relationship aren't even really a question for him. Like his feelings or his hormones, let's say, and his delight in her childishness and her silliness. All of this sort of stuff stands in for all the rest of it for him. The way he feels about her makes him certain that he does feel all the deeper things, because how could he not when he's so completely head over heels for her? I mean, it's been a while since we have had this dreamy, over the top, romantic version of David. But he was back in this chapter in full force. He tells us. Here's a quote. Enough love might have been wrung out of me, metaphorically speaking, to drown anybody in. And yet there would have remained enough within me and all over me to pervade my entire existence. And this thing where he goes to stand outside her house. Here's a quote. Romantically calling on the night at intervals to shield my Dora. I don't exactly know what from. I suppose from fire, perhaps from mice, to which she had a great objection. It's hilarious because he's acting so ridiculous. So I think, to Phil's point, it is sort of hard to take this relationship seriously. But. And I will get to this In a moment, it does actually seem that, for the moment at least, they are engaged to be married, which is worth taking seriously, I think, since marriage is for life. But before I get to that, I do want to just touch on Patty's other point, because I don't think we can let this go unremarked, and that is that Mr. Murdstone shows up again in this chapter. And I think it's really interesting, actually, that the first time that David meets Dora, Ms. Murdstone is there. Remember, she is Dora's kind of paid companion. And in the next chapter that's specifically about Dora, Mr. Murdstone shows up. I think it really enforces this idea that Dora's attraction for David, even though he is not really aware of it at all, her attraction is at least in some part related to the way in which she reminds David of his mother. And, of course, the Murdstones are wrapped up in what happened with David's mother and are essentially the reason why he doesn't have a mother anymore. And I think it's really satisfying, actually, that we get Peggy in this chapter essentially accusing Mr. Murdstone of being the cause of Clara's death. Here is that quote, it says he addressed himself to Peggotty and you said he. I am sorry to observe that you have lost your husband. It's not the first loss I have had in my life, Mr. Murdstone, replied Peggotty, trembling from head to foot. I am glad to hope that there is nobody to blame for this one, nobody to answer for it. And then later she says, I am thankful to think, no, Mr. Murdstone, I have not worried and frightened any sweet Creeter to an early grave. I mean, don't you just want to cheer when she says that, like, go, Peggy. But there's something really interesting and I actually think kind of odd going on here with Mr. Merdstone, because Mr. Murdstone is here, as Patty says, to get a marriage license so that he can marry a very young woman who has money. Now, David's mother didn't really have money. She had some, but not a lot. And that didn't seem to be the motive for that marriage necessarily. But it does seem that Mr. Murdstone is going to be marrying someone young and probably pliable, who he can try to mold his will the way he tried to mold cl. So he's here for a marriage license. And it's clear when he's talking to David that he feels that nothing has changed with David, that David is still the same wayward child that he has always thought him to be. He says, I hope you may do better, yet I hope you may correct yourself. Which is so maddening and frustrating. But all this happens in the same chapter in which David becomes engaged to Dora, a woman who seems a lot like Clara, his mother. So the interesting but sort of odd thing to me here is. Is Dickens making a comparison here between David and Mr. Murdstone? I mean, I don't actually know. I'm just putting it out there. I mean, obviously, David is nothing like Mr. Murdstone. But why did Dickens choose to bring Murdstone back in this chapter? And why does he have him marrying again? I mean, maybe for no reason at all. Maybe just for the fun of the story and the shock of seeing him again. But I do think it's interesting that the Murdstone seem to show up hand in hand with Dora and that David and Mr. Murdstone have this encounter that involves Mr. Murdstone seemingly at it again in terms of marrying a pliable young woman and then David going off and getting engaged to a young woman very much like his mother. So, I don't know. That was just interesting to me, so I thought I would share it with you. But let's take a look now at this whole Dora sequence. Because unlike all of David's other infatuations, which were either unrequited or very quickly fizzled out, it turns out in this chapter that Dora actually seems to like him back. She has this very kind of teenage flirtatiousness about her, which David finds irresistible, in which I think any of us who have been a teenager and had crushes will instantly kind of recognize. Here's what it says. The phaeton was open, and I rode behind it. And Dora sat with her back to the horses, looking towards me. She kept the bouquet close to her on the cushion and wouldn't allow Gyp to sit on that side of her at all for fear he would crush it. She often carried it in her hand, often refreshed herself with its fragrance. Our eyes at those times often met. And my great astonishment is that I didn't go over the head of my gallant gray into the carriage, okay? And David also acts in a very teenage, very high school crush kind of way by getting immediately jealous of the first guy that Dora even looks at, right? This guy he calls Red Whisker. And then responding to that by trying to make Dora as jealous as possible in return, he starts flirting with this woman in pink. And he says, dora's health was drunk when I Drank it. I affected to interrupt my conversation for that purpose and to resume it immediately afterwards. I caught Dora's eye as I bowed to her and I thought it looked appealing, but it looked at me over the head of Red Whisker and I was adamant. Okay, so it's all incredibly juvenile and I think as Phil is saying, it's hard to imagine that this will really come to anything. It's hard to imagine them actually getting married and settling down to a life together because the way that they're behaving is so childish and. But they do end up getting engaged with the help of Dora's friend Ms. Mills. Now Phil commented that it's sort of ridiculous that this 20 year old woman seems to have given up on love after one like bad encounter. But I think it's important to realize that Ms. Mills is Dickens, kind of at his most over the top. She is entirely there as far as I'm concerned, for comic relief, I mean. Yes, and also for plot purposes, because it's Ms. Mills that arranges for David and Dora to meet up in London and eventually confess their love to each other. But her character is not at all meant to be taken seriously. She is so funny. And Dickens intends this. He's got his tongue like very firmly in his cheek when he's writing her and he's making fun of her whole situation. I mean, listen to the way that he writes about her. He says that sagacious Ms. Mills too, that amiable though quite used up recluse, that little patriarch of something less than 20 who had done with the world and mustn't on any account have the slumbering echoes in the contrary caverns of memory awakened. What a kind thing she did. I mean, he's kidding around. This is not at all meant to be serious. And we have his full permission to laugh. I mean, when David shows up at her house and she's writing a piece of music called Affections Dirge, it's hilarious. But the upshot of all of this is that David and Dora do end up getting engaged. The scene is brilliant, don't you think? With David deciding he's going to tell her he loves her and then that he's not going to tell her and then that he is and just barking and barking the whole time. And then David finally getting it out and Dora saying yes, it's wonderful. But I do think that there is still a kind of childishness to their engagement. Almost like two children pretending to get engaged. David says, 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 dishonorable in that. So they're engaged, but they don't have any idea of when they'll get married, nor do they seem to care. They aren't going to tell Dora's father about it, which means that it won't happen anytime soon because they'll need his permission to actually get married. So it's more like a fun game of being engaged and getting to send each other secret letters and sneaking over to visit her when only Ms. Mills is around. It's more like a game than an actual serious decision between two people to get married. But I do just want to quickly touch on what Witt brought up, which is that we get this really lovely but also sort of tantalizing glimpse of adult David in this chapter. Here's what he When I measured Dora's finger for a ring that was to be made of forget me nots, and when the jeweler 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. Okay, so this tells us that adult David has at least one child, a daughter, and that seeing this daughter wearing a ring very much like the ring he gave to Dora for an engagement ring, made his heart ache for some reason. So is this a daughter that he had with Dora? Do they actually get married and have children together? Or why is it painful for him to see a ring like Dora's? Is this a daughter he had with someone else? Does he not actually marry Dora? Does he wish he had married her? Is that why it's painful? We have no idea. That is what is so tantalizing. And the other thing that we get from adult David's perspective is this sense, sort of like Phil was saying in his letter, but this sense that the person he is now views all of this stuff with Dora as childish and silly, but also as sort of wonderful. Here's what he says. 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. Okay, so does that mean he's looking back fondly on the courtship that he had with his now wife, with whom he has grown up and had children and settled into a more adult relationship? Or does that mean he's looking back fondly on the courtship he had with a girl that he didn't marry but remembers with fondness because of how young it is? Foolish and in love they were, we just don't know. And it's so fish. But also wonderful of Dickens to give us this tiny glimpse into adult David's perspective here, because it makes us wonder all of these things and want to read more. So let's do that. Let's read some more. Okay? But of course, don't forget to write to me. It's Faith K. Moore.com and click on Contact. Send me all your questions, all your thoughts. I would love to know your reaction to this chapter. And while you are in the show notes, please click on the merch store and pick up some Barkis merch and some donkeys merch and whatever else you want there and hopefully you'll find something you like. All right, let's get started with chapter 34 of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. It's story time. 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 blessed 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. This reminds me not only that I expected Traddles on a certain afternoon of his own appointing, which was now come, but that Mrs. Crupp had resigned everything appertaining to her office, the salary accepted until Peggy should cease to present herself. Meaning Mrs. Krupp refuses to do her job taking care of David, because Peggy is also taking care of David and she's doing a much better job. And Mrs. Krupp has taken offense. Mrs. Krupp, after holding diverse conversations respecting Peggy in a very high pitched voice on the staircase with some invisible familiar, it would appear for corporeally speaking, she was quite alone at those times. Addressed a letter to me, developing her views, beginning it with that statement of universal application which fitted every occurrence of her life, namely that she was a mother herself. She went on to inform me that she had once seen very different days, but that at all periods of her existence she had had a constitutional objection to spies, intruders and informers. She named no names. She said, let them the cap fitted wear it. But spies, intruders and informers, especially in widow's weeds, meaning widows, weeds, the morning clothes of a widow which Peggy is wearing. This clause was underlined. She had ever accustomed herself to look down upon if a gentleman was the victim of spies, intruders and informers, but still naming no names, that was his own pleasure. He had a Right to please himself. So let him do. All that she, Mrs. Crop, stipulated for, was that she should not be brought in contract with such persons. Therefore she begged to be excused from any further attendance on the top set until things were as they formerly was and as they could be wished to be. And further mentioned that her little book would be found upon the breakfast table every Saturday morning, when she requested an immediate settlement of the same, with the benevolent view of saving trouble and all inconvenience to all parties. Meaning all inconvenience, so Mrs. Krupp is saying. She refuses to work while Peggotty is there, but demands to be paid each week anyway. After this, Mrs. Crupp confined herself to making pitfalls on the stairs, principally with pitchers, and endeavoring to delude Peggy into breaking her legs. I found it rather harassing to live in this state of siege, but was too much afraid of Mrs. Crupp to see any way out of it. My dear Copperfield. Cried Traddles, punctually appearing at my door in spite of all these obstacles. How do you do, my dear Traddles? Said I. I am delighted to see you at last, and very sorry I have not been at home before, but I have been so much engaged. Yes, yes, I know, said Traddles. Of course. Yours lives in London, I think. What did you say? She. Excuse me, Ms. D. You know, said Traddles, coloring in his great delicacy. Lives in London, I believe. Oh, yes, near London. Mine. Perhaps you recollect, said Traddles with a serious look. Lives down in Devonshire, one of 10. Consequently, I am not so much engaged as you in that sense. I wonder you can bear I returned to see her so seldom. Huh, Said Traddles thoughtfully. It does seem a wonder. I suppose it is, Copperfield, because there is no help for it. I suppose so, I replied with a smile, and not without a blush. And because you have so much constancy and patience. Traddles. Dear me, said Traddles, considering about it. Do I strike you in that way, Copperfield? Really, I didn't know that I had. But she is such an extraordinarily dear girl herself that it's possible she may have imparted something of those virtues to me. Now you mention it, Copperfield, I shouldn't wonder at all, I assure you. She is always forgetting herself and taking care of the other nine. Is she the eldest? I inquired. Oh, dear, no, said Traddles. The eldest is a beauty. He saw. I suppose, that I could not help smiling at the simplicity of this reply, and added with A smile upon his own ingenious face. Not, of course, that my Sophie. Pretty name, Copperfield, I always think. Very pretty, said I. Not, of course, but that Sophie is beautiful too, in my eyes, and would be one of the dearest girls that ever was in anybody's eyes, I should think. But when I say the eldest is a beauty, I mean she really is a. He seemed to be describing clouds about himself with both hands. Splendid, you know, said Traddles energetically. Indeed, said I. Oh, I assure you, said Traddles, something very uncommon indeed. Then, you know, being formed for society and admiration and not being able to enjoy much of it in consequence of their limited means, she naturally gets a little irritable in exacting sometimes Sophie puts her in good humour. Is Sophie the youngest, I hazarded? Oh, dear, no, said Traddles, stroking his chin. The two youngest are only 9 and 10. Sophy educate them. The second daughter, perhaps? I hazarded. No, said Traddles. Sara's the second. Sara has something the matter with her spine, poor girl. The malady will wear out by and by, the doctors say. But in the meantime she has to lie down for a twelvemonth. Sophy nurses her. Sophy's the fourth. Is the mother living? I inquired. Oh, yes, said Traddles. She's alive. She is a very superior woman indeed, but the damp country is not adapted to her constitution and in fact she has lost the use of her limbs. Dear me, said I. Very sad, is it not, returned Traddles. But in a merely domestic view, it is not so bad as it might be, because Sophy takes her place. She is quite as much a mother to her mother as she is to the other nine. I felt the greatest admiration for the virtues of this young lady, and honestly with the view of doing my best to prevent the good nature of Traddles from being a man imposed upon to the detriment of their joint prospects in Life. Inquired how Mr. Micawber was. He is quite well, Copperfield, thank you, said Traddles. I am not living with him at present. No, no. You see, the truth is, said Traddles in a whisper, he has changed his name to Mortimer in consequence of his temporary embarrassments, and he don't come out till after dark. And then in spectacles there was an execution put into our house for rent. Mrs. Micawber was in such a dreadful state that I really couldn't resist giving my name to that second bill we spoke of here. You may imagine how delightful it was to my feelings, Copperfield, to see the matter settled with it and Mrs. Micawber recover her spirits. Hum, said I. Not that her happiness was of long duration, pursued Traddles, for unfortunately, within a week another execution came in. It broke up the establishment. I have been living in a furnished apartment since then and the Mortimers have been very private indeed. I hope you won't think it selfish, Copperfield, if I mention that the broker carried off my little round table with the marble top and Sophie's flower pot and stand. What a hard thing. I exclaimed indignantly. It was a. It was a pull. Said Traddles with his usual wince at that expression. I don't mention it reproachfully, however, but with a motive. The fact is, Copperfield, I was unable to repurchase them at the time of their seizure. In the first place, because the broker, having an idea that I wanted them, ran the price up to an extravagant extent and in the second place, because I hadn't any money. Now I have kept my eye since upon the broker's shop, said Traddles, with a great enjoyment of his mystery which is up at the top of Tottenham Court Road. And at last today I find them put out for sale. I have only noticed them from over the way because if the broker saw me, bless you, he'd ask any price for them. What has occurred to me, having now the money, is that perhaps you wouldn't object to ask that good nurse of yours to come with me to the shop. I can show it her from round the corner of the next street and make the best bargain for them as if they were for herself that she can. Okay, so Traddles had to give up his furniture that he had bought for his new home with Sophie because he put his name as a guarantor on the loan that the Macawers took out. And so the creditors took his belongings. But now the furniture is for sale again and he wants Peggy to buy it for him with his money. Because if the shopkeeper sees it's Traddles that wants it, he'll raise the price very high. The delight with which Traddles propounded this plan to me and the sense he had of its uncommon artfulness are among the freshest things in my remembrance. I told him that my old nurse would be delighted to assist him and that we would all three take the field together, but on one condition. That condition was that he should make a solemn resolution to grant no more loans of his name or anything else to Mr. Micawber. My dear Copperfield, said Traddles, I have already done so because I begin to feel that I have not only been inconsiderate but that I have been positively unjust to Sophy. My word being passed to myself, there is no longer any apprehension. But I pledge it to you too, with the greatest readiness that first unlucky obligation I have paid. I have no doubt Mr. Micawber would have paid it if he could, but he could not. One thing I ought to mention, which I like very much in Mr. Micawber, Copperfield. It refers to the second obligation which is not yet due. He don't tell me that it is provided for, but he says it will be. Now, I think there is something very fair and honest about that. I was unwilling to damp my good friend's confidence and therefore assented. After a little further conversation. We went round to the chandler's shop to enlist Peggotty Traddles, declining to pass the evening with me both because he endured the liveliest apprehensions that his property would be bought by somebody else before he could repurchase it, and because it was the evening he always devoted to writing to the dearest girl in the world. I shall never forget him peeping round the corner of the street in Tottenham Court Road while Peggotty was bargaining for the precious articles or his agitation when she came slowly towards us after vainly offering a price and was hailed by the relenting broker and went back again. The end of the negotiation was that she bought the property on tolerably easy terms and Traddles was transported with pleasure. I am very much obliged you indeed, said Traddles, on hearing it was to be sent to where he lived that night. If I might ask one other favor. I hope you would not think it absurd, Copperfield, I said beforehand. Certainly not. Then if you would be good enough, said Traddles to Peggotty to get the flower pot. Now I think I should like it, being Sophie's Copperfield, to carry it home myself. Peggotty was glad to get it for him and he overwhelmed her with thanks and went his way up Tottenham Court Road carrying the flower pot affectionately in his arms with one of the most delighted expressions of countenance I ever saw. We then turned back towards my chambers as the shops had charms for Peggotty, which I never knew them possess in the same degree for anybody else. I sauntered easily along, amused by her, staring in at the windows and waiting for her as often as she chose windows. We were thus a good while in getting to the Adelphi. On our way upstairs I called her attention to the sudden disappearance of Mrs. Crupp's pitfalls, and also to the prints of recent footsteps. We were both very much surprised, coming higher up to find my outer door standing open, which I had shut, and to hear voices inside. We looked at one another without knowing what to make of this, and went into the sitting room. What an amazement to find of all people upon earth. My aunt there and Mr. Dick, my aunt sitting on a quantity of luggage with her two birds before her and her cat on her knee like a female Robinson Crusoe drinking tea, Mr. Dick leaning thoughtfully on a great kite such as we had often been out together to fly, with more luggage piled about him. My dear aunt, cried I. Why, what an unexpected pleasure. We cordially embraced, and Mr. Dick and I cordially shook hands, and Mrs. Crupp, who was busy making tea and could not be too attentive, cordially said she had knowed well as Mr. Copperfull would have his heart in his mouth when he see his dear relations. Hello, said my aunt to Peggotty, who quailed before her awful presence. How are you? You remember my aunt Peggotty, said I. For the love of goodness, child, exclaimed my aunt, don't call the woman by that South Sea island name. If she married and got rid of it, which was the best thing she could do, why don't you give her the benefit of the change? What's your name now? P. Said my aunt, as a compromise for the obnoxious appellation. Barkis, ma', am, said Peggotty with a curtsy. Well, that's human, said my aunt. It sounds less as if you wanted a missionary. How d' ya do, Barkis? I hope you're well. Encouraged by these gracious words and by my aunt's extending her hand, Barkis came forward and took the hand and curtsied her acknowledgments. We are older than we were. I see, said my aunt. We have only met each other once before, you know. A nice business we made of it. Then trot, my dear, another cup. I handed it dutifully to my aunt, who was in her usual inflexible state of figure, and ventured a remonstrance with her on the subject of her sitting on a box. Let me draw the sofa here or the easy chair, Aunt, said I. Why should you be so uncomfortable? Thank you, Trot, replied my aunt. I prefer to sit upon my property here. My aunt looked hard at Mrs. Crop and observed. We needn't trouble you to wait, ma'. Am. Shall I put a little more tea in the pot before I go, ma', am, said Mrs. Crupp. No, I thank you, ma', am, replied my aunt. Would you let me fetch another pat of butter, ma'? Am, said Mrs. Crupp. Or would you be persuaded to try a new laid egg? Or should I broil a rasher? Ain't there nothing I can do for you, dear Aunt Copperful? Nothing, ma', am, returned my aunt. I shall do very well, I thank you. Mrs. Crupp, who had been incessantly smiling to express sweet temper, and incessantly holding her head on one side to express a general feebleness of constitution, and incessantly rubbing her hands to express a desire to be of service to all deserving objects, gradually smiled herself one sided herself and rubbed herself out of the room. Dick, said my aunt, you know what I told you about time servers and wealth worshippers. Mr. Dick, with rather a scared look as if he had forgotten it, returned a hasty answer in the affirmative. Mrs. Crupp is one of them, said my Aunt Barkis. I'll trouble you to look after the tea, and let me have another cup, for I don't fancy that woman's pouring out. I knew my aunt sufficiently well to know that she had something of importance on her mind, and that there was far more matter in this arrival than a stranger might have supposed. I noticed how her eye lighted on me when she thought my attention otherwise occupied, and what a curious process of hesitation appeared to be going on within her while she preserved her outward desire, stiffness and composure. I began to reflect whether I had done anything to offend her, and my conscience whispered to me that I had not yet told her about Dora. Could it by any means be that, I wondered, as I knew she would only speak in her own good time. I sat down near her and spoke to the birds and played with the cat, and was as easy as I could be. But I was very far from being really easy, and I should still have been so, even if Mr. Dick, leaning over the great kite behind my aunt, had not taken every secret opportunity of shaking his head darkly at me and pointing at her. Trot, said my aunt at last when she had finished her tea and carefully smoothed down her dress and wiped her lips. You needn't go, Barkis Trot. Have you got to be firm and self reliant? I hope so, Aunt. What do you think? Inquired Ms. Betsey. I think so, Aunt. Then why, my love, said my aunt, looking earnestly at me. Why do you think I prefer to sit upon this property of mine tonight? I shook my head, unable to guess because, said my aunt, it's all I have because I'm ruined, my dear. If the house and every one of us had tumbled out into the river together, I could hardly have received a greater shock. Dick knows it, said my aunt, laying her hand calmly on my shoulder. I am ruined, my dear. Trot. All I have in the world is in this room except the cottage and that I have left Janet to let Barkis. I want to get a bed for this gentleman to night to save expense. Perhaps you can make up something here for myself. Anything will do. It's only for to night. We'll talk about this more tomorrow. I was roused from my amazement and concern for her. I am sure for her by her falling on my neck for a moment and crying that she only grieved for me, meaning she's worried what this will mean for David, since she pays for a lot of his expenses. In another moment she suppressed this emotion and said, with an aspect more triumphant than dejected, we must meet reverses boldly and not suffer them to frighten us, my dear. We must learn to act the play out. We must live misfortune down. Trot. Thank you so much for listening. I'd love to know what you thought of the chapters. Is there anything you'd like me to clarify? Did something particularly interest you? Please go to my website, faithkmoore.com, click on Contact and send me your questions and thoughts. Or you can click on the link in the Show Notes to contact me. I'll feature one or two of your entries at the start of the next episode. Speaking of links, don't forget to take a look at the other links in the show notes. You can learn more about me, check out our merch store, or become a member of the Storytime for Grown Ups online community. Before I go, I'd like to ask a quick favor. This is an independent podcast. It's produced, recorded and marketed by me, so I need your help. Spread the word about the show by posting about it on social media or texting a link to your friends. Subscribe tap those five stars and leave a positive review wherever you're listening. If you are able to support the show financially, there's a link in the Show Notes to make a donation. I would really, really appreciate it. Alright everyone, story time is over. To be continue.