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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 hope that you are in your cozy chair with your cup of tea, at least in your mind. I always hope that this podcast can be the cozy chair can be the lovely cup of tea for you. I know it is for me. I just absolutely love to be here with you. I love to read these books. I love to get your emails. I love to talk about these books with you. It's just joy. It's the same kind of joy that I feel in my cozy chair with my cup of tea. And it really is kind of like we're all there together in a cozy room talking about this book. And one of the things that's been so great about reading a longer book is that I feel like we're really kind of enmeshed in the world of David Copperfield and these characters are really becoming our friends. They're becoming real. They're kind of leaping off the page and walking around, at least as far as I'm concerned. That's how I feel and it's really cool. So I like that we're reading a longer book this time and I hope that you do too. And we have lots and lots more to read. So I don't have to be saying to you at this point, oh, we're getting close to the end, because we're not. We are going to keep reading this book all the way through until the middle of August. So stick with us. We've got lots more David Copperfield to read, so. So let's do that. I don't have any extra or new announcements, so all of the usual things apply. Please make sure that you're subscribed to the show. Please tap the five stars if you're enjoying it. Please leave a positive review in your podcast player if you have a couple of seconds. All of those things just help new people to find the show. And I love new people. I love it when people join up and I love it when I get emails saying, oh, I just found your show, it's the best, so please do that. And if you're interested in other ways to support the show, you can scroll into The Show Notes. There's lots of options. You can buy some merch, that'll help. You can leave a tip in the tip jar that's always appreciated. And you can also become a member of our online community. The drawing room and all of that stuff is there. There's a few other links that might be of interest. So scroll into the Show Notes if you have a couple minutes and just take a look at what's there. You might find something that interests you. Okay, well, let's just get into it. Let's rejoin the world of David Copperfield and all of our friends. So last time we read chapter 36, today is going to be chapter 37. So let's just review what happened last time and then we'll talk for a bit. So here is the recap. All right, so where we left off. David shows up at Dr. Strong's house, eager and excited to get a paying job. He feels a sense of himself as this kind of hero striding forth in his life, ready to work hard and earn the chance to marry Dora. Dr. Strong is as kind and generous as ever and agrees to take David on as his secretary for 70 pounds a year. Mr. Jack Malden has come back from India, and it's so seems like Annie Strong is still grappling with her attraction to him. Possibly. Jack seems not to care that he is carrying on with Annie and asks her to the opera right in front of Dr. Strong, who suspects nothing. But Annie says no and seems to be trying not to go out with him. David begins working for Dr. Strong, which makes him very busy because he's still spending his days at Doctor's Commons. But during some of his free time, he takes Mr. Dick to see Traddles, who gives him a job copying documents. This makes Mr. Dick very happy because he feels he is helping Ms. Betsy by earning money. Money. David asks Traddles about how to make even more money as a court reporter. And Traddles explains that he'd need to learn shorthand, which is very hard. But David says he'll get a book and he's going to study it when he's not doing anything else at Doctors Commons. Traddles gives David a letter from Mr. Macawber saying that something actually has turned up and they're leaving town soon. And the letter invites David and Traddles to dinner. They go to the dinner and they learn that Mr. Macawer has been hired by Uriah Heap to be his clerk. Mrs. Micawber thinks that this will allow Mr. Micawber to rise in the ranks until he's a judge or an kind of high ranking position. And even though Traddles tries to tell her this isn't how it works, she feels this is what is going to happen. So Traddles and David say goodbye to Mr. And Mrs. Micawber, who are leaving for Canterbury to start this new job. All right, I'm going to read 3 comments today. The first one comes from our online community, the Drawing Room. This person goes by the handle arymm. She says this chapter sees the return of many old characters, including Dr. Strong, Annie and Jack Malden. But the hard pill to swallow is realizing Mr. Macawer's sudden turn in Fort Fortune is related to a job offer from Uriah Heep. Ugh. I love that Tommy helped Mr. Dick find a way to contribute to the family income stream. The second one comes from Maria. She says, I was struck by how natural David and traddles were with Mr. Dick. I grew up with a brother with down syndrome and have a severely developmentally disabled son. It always warms my heart when they are treated matter of factly, but also with attention to their special needs. And the last one comes from Cassie. She says David should probably stop introducing people to each other. First Deerforth and little Emily and now Mr. Macawber and Uriah. It never seems to bode well. Okay, I totally agree, and that's a great way to put it. We're going to talk about that, but let's just kind of back up for a second. So last time I was saying that this is another one of these little endings and new beginnings that we've been getting throughout the course of this book. This one isn't really as dramatic as some of the others because David is still essentially in the same situation he was in before. This isn't like losing his mother or having to work in the factory or running away to Miss Betsy or anything like that. But it does mark a bit of a new era for David because he now has to make his way in the world without financial assistance from Ms. Betsy or with very little financial assistance from her. And the way he goes about this is really very David. I think on the one hand he gets right down to it, right? He takes Agnes up on her suggestion and he goes to visit Dr. Strong and he gets this additional job so that he can earn more money. He's going to double their income, right? Because Miss Betsy gets £70 a year from the rent of the cottage. And now David has an additional 70 pounds a year from his job as Dr. Strong's secretary. So that's a very concrete, very practical thing to do. And it seems like he's going to do this job very well, and he's going to be on time and he's going to take it seriously and everything. So that's also very practical and speaks very well of him. He also says he's going to try to learn shorthand, even though Trav says it's incredibly hard. And he's going to do that so that he can get another job transcribing the speeches that people make in Parliament. So he's actually facing this crisis head on with a lot of really useful and practical solutions. On the other hand, while he is doing it, he views himself as a kind of hero in a story, this chivalric knight that he likes to cast himself as. When he's thinking about Dora, it spills over into this pursuit to provide for himself and for his aunt and eventually for Dora. And he becomes kind of endearingly silly in pursuit of it, even as he's actually doing the thing, which I think kind of sums David up rather nicely, actually. So now his image of himself as this sort of foppish knight riding forth with flowers to win Dora's hand, it has morphed into this image of himself as like a knight errant riding forth into the world, sword drawn to cut down any obstacles in his path as he tries to get to Dora. Here's what he My whole manner of thinking of our late misfortune was changed. What I had to do was to show my aunt that her past good goodness to me had not been thrown away on an insensible, ungrateful object. What I had to do was to turn the painful discipline of my younger days to account by going to work with a resolute and steady heart. What I had to do was to take my woodsman's axe in my hand and clear my own way through the forest of difficulty by cutting down the trees. Until I came to Dora, and I went on at a mighty rate, as if it could be done by walking. Okay, so he's both doing the thing and creating a whole fantasy about doing the thing, which is, in his mind, has elevated this situation far beyond just like a young guy needing to get a job and into the realm of mythology or whatever, which, again, is very him. And as Mary says, this whole situation brings us back into contact with the Strongs, Dr. Strong and his wife Annie, and with Jack Malden. One thing that I think is really lovely and sweet is that even though Ms. Betsy's financial situation has made it so that David has to earn a living. He still has Miss Betsy herself and the love and support that she gives him, as well as the friendship of Mr. Dick and of Agnes. He's not being thrown out completely on his own the way that he was as a child. So this setback is much less serious and much less bleak than some of the other setbacks he's faced. And that's because he has been able to surround himself with people who love him and will care for him and protect him no matter what. And Dr. Strong is one of these people. I mean, yes, he's hiring David because he feels that David will do a good job, but he is such a generous person that when he hears about David's situation, he's just about ready to fund whatever David needs just because he likes David, he says. Dear me, replied the doctor. To think of that. Not that I mean to say it's rigidly limited to £70 a year, because I have always contemplated making any young friend I might thus employ a present too. Undoubtedly, said the doctor, still walking me up and down with his hand on my shoulder, I have always taken an annual present into account, okay? Meaning that he will give David lots of extra money along the way to help him out. So it's really a very good situation. And it speaks to the fact that David now has people around him who care about him and want to help him. And I think a bit of a comparison is being made here between David and the way that he's attacking his financial difficulties and Jack Malden. Because, of course, the whole reason that we know about Jack Malden is that he needed a job. He needed a way to earn some money. And Dr. Strong was helping with that by getting him a post first in India. And when that didn't work out, he's gotten him an office job here in London. And in between, Jack was actually doing what David is now doing and working as Dr. Strong's secretary. But while David buckles down and works hard and does a good job at whatever he sets his mind to, Jack Malden is essentially trying to get something for nothing. And instead of trying his best at whatever he does, he's kind of lazing his life away, waiting for the next opportunity to go to the opera or whatever. Here's what David says. I found Mr. Jack Malden's efforts more troublesome to me than I had expected. So he's talking now about what Jack did as Dr. Strong's secretary, right? He says, as he had not confined himself to making numerous mistakes, but had sketched so many soldiers and ladies heads over the doctor's manuscript that I often became involved in labyrinths of obscurity. Okay, so he doesn't care about this work or about doing his best and earning the salary that he's been offered. He just wants the money, but doesn't want to work for it. So when you compare these two young men who are essentially in the same position, they're both young men wanting to live middle class lives who aren't independently wealthy. When you compare them, David is clearly the winner. And I think there are echoes here too of little Emily, because we're reminded again in this chapter of Mrs. Strong's attachment to Jack Malden and the way that it seems like there may be something inappropriate going on between them, even though Annie is married to Dr. Strong, which is similar to Emily in that Annie has a good man who loves her and will take care of her, but who isn't exactly what she wants necessarily because he's much older than her and more like her father. And there is this alternative in this young kind of carefree, fun loving guy who she appears to be drawn to. But at least in this chapter, Annie actually seems to be trying not to give in to her feelings for Jack, since she doesn't go to the opera with him, even though Dr. Strong, who, like Ham, suspects nothing, even though he encourages her to go, she doesn't go. Here's what David says. I was curious to find out next morning whether she had been. She had not, but had sent into London to put her cousin off and had gone out in the afternoon to see Agnes and had prevailed upon the doctor to go with her. And they had walked home by the fields. The doctor told me, the evening being delightful. I wondered then whether she would have gone if Agnes had not been in town. And whether Agnes had some good influence over her too. Okay, so David is now setting up this new life of making his way in the world. And for him the only thing left to do is tell Dora about all of this and see if she is still willing to marry him now that he's got to earn his own living. So that's still on the horizon. But until then, David is off and running, basically in this new situation. And as Maria said, David and traddles also help Mr. Dick to feel like he's contributing to the family by copying documents for Traddles for pay. And I agree with Maria that Dickens seems to have a real respect for Mr. Dick. We know that he is what back then they would have called like simple or even mad. But he's absolutely a person of value, a person of worth. And the lives of the people around him are actually made better by his presence. And I think it's a testament to the way in which Dickens views him that really all the best people in the book, all the kindest, most straightforward people, they all immediately accept Mr. Dick as a matter of course and treat him, as Maria says, matter of factly, but with an awareness of the his special needs. So the fact that Traddles is immediately willing to figure out some way of helping Mr. Dick make money and enters into the question of how he will keep King Charles I out of all of this, as if that's a perfectly normal concern. All of this alerts us, if we didn't already know, that Traddles is a really good and upstanding guy. Traddles is the best friend that David should have had all along, not Steerforth. Right. And it really is touching to see what all of this means to Mr. Dick because Mr. Dick isn't stupid and he has a high degree of what nowadays we might call like a emotional intelligence or something. And he cares very deeply for Miss Betsy and wants to help her. And the fact that he can make some money to help her is the most wonderful thing in the world to him. Here's what it says. No starving now trotwood, said Mr. Dick, shaking hands with me in a corner. I'll provide for her, sir. And he flourished his ten fingers in the air as if they were ten banks. Which is really lovely, I think, and really sweet. And then of course, the last thing that happens in this chapter is that it is revealed that Mr. McCawber is taking his family to to Canterbury because the ad that they placed in the newspaper was answered by uriah heep. So Mr. McCawver is going to be Uriah Heep's new clerk since Uriah is no longer a clerk himself, but a lawyer who needs a clerk. But as Cassie and Mary say, this does not bode well at all. Now remember, Uriah and Mr. Macawer have met before. They met when David was a boy at Canterbury and Mr. Macawer happened to be walking by, remember this? And David was having tea with Uriah and his mother and Mr. Macawer just sort of randomly came in. So I think it's fair to say that this is not a coincidence. It's not like Uriah was looking through the paper and saw a random ad about a guy who needed work and so hired him. Uriah was looking through the paper and saw an ad about Mr. Macawber. Right? A person that he's met before and knows something about. He saw the ad that he was looking for work and so he hired him. So I think we have to ask ourselves, what is Uriah up to here? It seems very likely that uriah knows what Mr. Macawer is like in terms of money. And if you listen to the terms under which uriah has hired Mr. Macawer, I think you'll probably start to feel even worse. Right, because Mr. Macawer says, My friend Heap has not fixed the positive remuneration at too high a figure, but he has made a great deal in the way of extrication from the pressure of pecuniary difficulties contingent on the value of my services. And on the value of those services I pin my faith. Okay, so what this means is that uriah hasn't offered Mr. President macabre like a normal fair salary. Instead he has told him that if Mr. Macabre does good work for him, he will help Mr. Macawer pay off his debts and keep him out of debt. So basically, Mr. Macawer is now beholden to Uriah. And if Uriah decides that he wants to screw Mr. Macawer over for some reason or use Mr. Macawer to get to someone else, then Uriah now has the means to do that. Okay, so Mr. Macabre is potentially getting himself into a pretty bad situation here, even though it seems like actually he's finally found himself a steady paying job. And maybe it will be fine. But I would say we are concerned for Mr. Macabre. So as usual, there are a lot of balls up in the air. But I think the most immediate things that we're wondering about after this chapter are what will happen when David reveals his changed circumstances to Dora, and also what will happen when Mr. Macawer goes to work for Uriah Heep. Right, that's what we're wondering about now. So let's keep reading and find out if we get any answers to our questions. But of course, don't forget to write to me. It's faith k.moore.com and click on Contact. Or you can scroll into the Show Notes and click the link that's there. Look at all the other links while you're at it and send me an email. I would love to know what you think of this chapter. You're never ever bothering me. I love your emails so much. So please do get in touch and tell me your thoughts. All right, let's get started with chapter 37 of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. It's story time. Chapter 37. A little cold Water. My new life had lasted for more than a week. And I was stronger than ever in those tremendous practical resolutions That I felt the crisis required. I continued to walk extremely fast. And to have a general idea that I was getting off. I made it a rule to take as much out of myself as I possibly could. In my way of doing everything to which I applied my energies. I made a perfect victim of myself. I even entertained some idea of putting myself on a vegetable diet, vaguely conceiving that in becoming a graminivorous animal, meaning an animal that eats only grass, I should sacrifice to Dora. As yet, little Dora was quite unconscious of my desperate firmness. Miss. Otherwise than as my letters darkly shadowed it forth. But another Saturday came, and on that Saturday evening she was to be at Miss mills's. And when Mr. Mills had gone to his whist club, telegraphed to me in the street by a bird cage in the drawing room middle window, I was to go there to tea. By this time we were quite settled down in Buckingham Street. Where Mr. Dick continued his copying in a state of absolute felicity. My aunt had obtained a signal victory over Mrs. Croft up by paying her off, throwing the first pitcher she planted on the stairs out of window. And protecting in person up and down the staircase a supernumerary whom she engaged from the outer world. A supernumerary is like an extra member of staff. These vigorous measures struck such terror to the breast of Mrs. Crupp. That she subsided into her own kitchen under the impression that my aunt was mad. My aunt being supremely indifferent to Mrs. Crupp's opinion and everybody else's. And rather favoring than discouraging the idea. Mrs. Crupp of late the bold, became within a few days so faint hearted. That rather than encounter my aunt upon the staircase, she would endeavor to hide her portly form behind doors, leaving visible, however, a wide margin of flannel petticoat, or would shrink into dark corners. This gave my aunt such unspeakable satisfaction. That I believe she took a delight in prowling up and down with her bonnet insanely perched on the top of her head. At times when Mrs. Crupp was likely likely to be in the way. My aunt, being uncommonly neat and ingenious, made so many little improvements in our domestic arrangements. That I seemed to be richer instead of poorer among the rest. She converted the pantry into a dressing room for me. And purchased and embellished a bedstead for my occupation, which looked as like a bookcase in the daytime as a bedstead could. I was the object of her constant solicitude and my poor mother herself could not have loved me better or studied more how to make me happy. Peggotty had considered herself highly privileged in being allowed to participate in these labors and although she still retained something of her old sentiment of awe in reference to my aunt, had received so many marks of encouragement and confidence that they were the best friends possible. But the time had now comeI am speaking of the Saturday when I was to take tea at Mrs. Mills's when it was necessary for her to return home and enter on the discharge of the duties she had undertaken in behalf of Henry Ham. So goodbye, Barkis, said my aunt, and take care of yourself. I am sure I never thought I could be sorry to lose you. I took Peggy to the coach office and saw her off. She cried at parting and confided her brother to my friendship, as Ham had done. We had heard nothing of him since he went away that sunny afternoon. And now, my dear own Davy, said Peggotty, if while your apprentice you should want any money to spend or if when you're out of your time, my dear, you should want any to set you up and you must do one or other or both, my darling, who has such a good right to ask leave to lend it to you as my sweet girl's own old stupid me. So she's saying that for David's mother's sake she would give money to David or lend it to him to start his life with. I was not so savagely independent as to say anything in reply but that if ever I borrowed money of anyone, I would borrow it of her. Her next to accepting a large sum on the spot. I believe this gave Peggotty more comfort than anything I could have done. And, my dear, whispered Peggotty, tell the pretty little angel that I should have liked to see her only for a minute and tell her that before she marries my boy I'll come and make your house so beautiful for you if you'll let me. I declared that nobody else should touch it and this gave Peggotty such delight that she went away in good spirit. Spirits. I fatigued myself as much as I possibly could in the Commons all day by a variety of devices and at the appointed time in the evening repaired to Mr. Mills's street. Mr. Mills, who was a terrible fellow to fall asleep after dinner, had not yet gone out and there was no bird cage in the middle window. He Kept me waiting so long that I fervently hoped the club would fine him for being late. At last he came out, and then I saw my own Dora hang up the bird cage and peep into the balcony to look for me and run in again when she saw I was there, while Jip remained behind to bark injuriously at an immense butcher's dog in the street, who could have taken him like a pill. Dora came to the drawing room door to meet me, and Jip came scrambling out, tumbling over his own growls, under the impression that I was a bandit. And we all three went in as happy and loving as could be. I soon carried desolation into the bosom of our joys. Not that I meant to do it, but that I was so full of the subject by asking Dora, without the smallest preparation, if she could love a beggar. My pretty little startled Dora. Her only association with the word was a yellow face and a nightcap, or a pair of crutches, or a wooden leg, or a dog with a decanter stand in his mouth, or something of that kind. And she stared at me with the most delightful wonder. How can you ask me anything so foolish? Pouted Dora. Love a beggar, Dora, my own dearest, said I, I am a beggar. How can you be such a silly thing? Replied Dora, slapping my hand as to sit there telling such stories. I'll make gyp bite you. Her childish way was the most delicious way in the world to me. But it was necessary to be explicit, and I solemnly repeated, dora, my own life. I am your ruined David. I declare. I'll make chip bite you, said Dora, shaking her curls, if you are so ridiculous. But I looked so serious that Dora left off shaking her curls and laid a trembling little hand upon my shoulder and first looked scared and anxious, then began to cry. That was dreadful. I fell upon my knees before the sofa, caressing her and employing her not to rend my heart. But for some time poor little Dora did nothing but exclaim, oh, dear, oh dear. And oh, she was so frightened. And where was Julia Mills? And oh, take her to Julia Mill and go away, please, until I was almost beside myself. At last, after an agony of supplication and protestation, I got Dora to look at me with a horrified expression of face, which I gradually soothed until it was only loving and her soft pretty cheek was lying against mine. Then I told her, with my arms clasped round her, how I loved her so dearly and so dearly, how I felt it right to offer to release her from her engagement because now I was poor. How I never could bear it or recover it if I lost her. How I had no fears of poverty if she had none. My arm being nerved and my heart inspired by her. How I was already working with a courage such as none but lovers knew. How I had begun to be practical and look into the future. How a crust well earned was sweeter far than a feast inherited, and much more to the same purpose, which I delivered in a burst of passionate eloquence quite surprising to myself, though I had been thinking about it day and night ever since my aunt had astonished me. Is your heart still mine, dear Dora? Said I rapturously, for I knew by her clinging to me that it was. Oh, yes. Cried Dora. Oh, yes, it's all yours. Oh, don't be dreadful. I dreadful to Dora. Don't talk about being poor and working hard, said Dora, nestling closer to me. Oh, don't, don't, my dearest love, said I. The crust well earned. Oh, yes, but I don't want to hear any more about crusts, said Dora. And Jip must have a mutton chop every day at 12 or he'll die. I was charmed with her childish winning way. I fondly explained to Dora that Gyp should have his mutton chop with his accustomed regular charity. I drew a picture of our frugal home made independent by my labour, sketching in the little house I had seen in Highgate, and my aunt in her room upstairs. I am not dreadful now, Dora, said I tenderly. Oh, no, no. Cried Dora. But I hope your aunt will keep in her own room a good deal. And I hope she's not a scolding old thing. If it were possible for me to love Dora more than ever her, I am sure I did. But I felt she was a little impracticable. It damped my newborn ardor to find that ardor so difficult of communication to her. I made another trial when she was quite herself again and was curling Gyp's ears as he lay upon her lap. I became grave and said my own. May I mention something? Oh, please don't be practical, said Dora coaxingly, because it frightens me so. Sweetheart, I returned. There is nothing to alarm you in all this. I want you to think of it quite differently. I want to make it nerve you and inspire you, Dora. Oh, but that's so shocking. Cried Dora. My love. No, perseverance and strength of character will enable us to bear much worse things. But I haven't got any strength at all, said Dora, shaking Her curls have I, Jip? Oh, do kiss Jip and be agreeable. It was impossible to resist kissing Jip when she held him up to me for that purpose, putting her own bright, rosy little mouth into kissing form as she directed the operation which she insisted should be performed symmetrically on the centre of his nose. I did as she bade me, rewarding myself afterwards for my obedience, as she charmed me out of my graver character for I don't know how long. But, Dora, my beloved, said I at last, resuming it, I was going to mention something. The judge of the Prerogative Court might have fallen in love with her, to see her fold her little hands and hold them up, begging and praying me not to be dreadful any more. Indeed I am not going to be, my darling, I assured her. But Dora, my love, if you will sometimes think, not despondingly, you know far from that, but if you will sometimes think, just to encourage yourself that you are engaged to a poor man, don't, don't, pray, don't. Cried Dora. It's so very dreadful, my soul. Not at all, said I cheerfully, if you will sometimes think of that and look about now and then at your papa's housekeeping and endeavour to acquire a little habit of accounts, for instance, poor little Dora received this suggestion with something that was half a sob and half a scream. It would be so useful to us afterwards, I went on, and if you would promise me to read a little a little cookery book that I would send you, it would be so excellent for both of us, for our path in life. My Dora, said I, warming with the subject, is stony and rugged now, and it rests with us to smooth it. We must fight our way onward. We must be brave. There are obstacles to be met, and we must meet and crush that. I was going on at a great rate with a clenched hand and a most enthusiastic countenance, but it was quite unnecessary to proceed. I had said enough. I had done it again. Oh, she was so frightened. Oh, where was Julia Mills? Oh, take her to Julia Mills and please go away. So that, in short, I was quite distracted and raved about the drawing room. I thought I had killed her this time. I sprinkled water on her face. I went down on my knees, I plucked at my hair. I denounced myself as a remorseless brute and a ruthless beast. Beast. I implored her forgiveness. I besought her to look up. I ravaged Miss Mills's workbox for a smelling bottle, and in my agony of mind applied an ivory needle case instead and dropped all the needles over Dora. I shook my fists at Gyp, who was as frantic as myself. I did every wild extravagance that could be done and was a long way beyond the end of my wits when Miss Mills came into the room. Who has done this? Exclaimed Miss Mills, succoring her friend. I replied, ay, Miss Mills, I have done it. Behold the destroyer, or words to that effect, and hid my face from the light in the sofa cushion. At first Miss Mills thought it was a quarrel and that we were verging on the desert of Sahara. But she soon found out how matters stood for. My dear, affectionate little Doraembracing her, began exclaiming that I was a poor labourer, and then cried for me and embraced me and asked me would I let her give me all her money to keep, and then fell on Miss Mills's and neck, neck, sobbing as if her tender heart were broken. Miss Mills must have been born to be a blessing to us. She ascertained from me in a few words what it was all about, comforted Dora, and gradually convinced her that I was not a laborer. From my manner of stating the case, I believe Dora concluded that I was a navigator and went balancing myself up and down a plank all day with a wheelbarrow, and so brought us together in peace. When we were quite composed and Dora had gone upstairs to put some rose water to her eyes, Miss Mills rang for tea. In the ensuing interval I told Miss Mills that she was evermore my friend and that my heart must cease to vibrate ere I could forget her sympathy. I then expounded to Miss Mills what I had endeavoured so very unsuccessfully to expound to Dora. Miss Mills replied on general principles that the cottage of content was better than the palace of cold splendour, and that where love was all was. I said to Miss Mills that this was very true. True, and who should know it better than I, who loved Dora with a love that never mortal had experienced yet? But on Miss Mills, observing with despondency that it were well indeed for some hearts, if this were so, I explained that I begged leave to restrict the observation to mortals of the masculine gender. I then put it to Miss Mills to say whether she considered that there was or was not any practical merit in the suggestion I had been anxious to make concerning the account counts, the housekeeping, and the cookery book. Miss Mills, after some consideration, thus replied Mr. Copperfield, I will be plain with you. Mental suffering and trial supply in some natures the place of ears, and I will be as plain with you as if I were a lady Abbess. No, the suggestion is not appropriate. Ardor. Dora, our dearest Dora, is a favourite child of nature. She is a thing of light and airiness and joy. I am free to confess that if it could be done, it might be well, but. And Miss Mills shook her head. I was encouraged by this closing admission on the part of Miss Mills to ask her whether for Dora's sake, if she had any opportunity of luring her attention to such preparations for an earnest, earnest life, she would avail herself of it. Miss Mills replied in the affirmative so readily that I further asked her if she would take charge of the cookery book, and if she ever could insinuate it upon Dora's acceptance without frightening her, undertake to do me that crowning service. Miss Mills accepted this trust too, but was not sanguine. Meaning she'll try to get Dora to study the cookbook, but she doesn't think it's going to happen. And Dora returned looking such a lovely little creature that I really doubted whether she ought to be troubled with anything so ordinary. And she loved me so much and was so captivating, particularly when she made Gyp stand on his hind legs for toast and when she pretended to hold that nose of his against the hot teapot for punishment because he wouldn't, that I felt like a sort of monster who had got into a fairy's bower when I thought of having frightened her and made her cry. After tea we had the guitar and Dora sang those same dear old French songs about the impossibility of ever on any account leaving off dancing La ra la la ra la until I felt a much greater monster than before. We had only one check to our pleasure, and that happened a little while before I took my leave. When Miss Mills chancing to make some allusion to tomorrow morning, I unluckily let out that being obliged to exert myself now I got up at 5 o'. Clock. Whether Dora had any idea that I was a private watchman, I am unable to say, but it made a great impression on her and she neither played nor sang anymore. Meaning this seems like a horribly early time to get up to Dora, that she thinks he must have some sort of lower class class job. It was still on her mind when I bade her adieu. And she said to me in her pretty coaxing way, as if I were a doll, I used to think, now don't get up at 5 o', clock, you naughty boy. It's so nonsensical, my love, said I. I have work to do, but don't do it, returned Dora. Why should you? It was impossible to say to that sweet little surprised face otherwise than lightly and playfully that we must work to live. Oh, how ridiculous. Cried Dora. How shall we live without Dora? Said I. How, anyhow, said Dora. She seemed to think she had quite settled the question, and gave me such a triumphant little kiss direct from her innocent heart, that I would hardly have put her out of conceit with her answer for a fortune. Well, I loved her, and I went on loving her most absorbingly, entirely and completely, but going on too, working pretty hard and busily keeping red hot all the irons I now had in the fire, I would sit sometimes of a night opposite my aunt, thinking how I had frightened Dora that time, and how I could best make my way with a guitar case through the forest of difficulty, until I used to fancy that my head was turning quite gray. 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 continued.