David Copperfield: Chapter 48

Summary

Storytime For Grownups – David Copperfield, Chapter 48 (June 22, 2026)

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Episode Overview

In this episode of Storytime for Grownups, host Faith Moore leads listeners through Chapter 48 of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. She first provides a recap of key recent chapters and offers reflective commentary on the novel’s themes, before reading the chapter itself and incorporating lively notes and contextual explanations. The episode focuses on the unraveling domestic life of David and Dora, the consequences of their lack of household management, as well as the emotional and psychological challenges that color their marriage. Faith’s gentle, insightful asides illuminate the literary text for modern listeners, tying Dickens’ parable-like storylines to themes of forgiveness, self-awareness, and the bittersweet realities of adulthood.

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Key Discussion Points & Insights

Setting the Stage: Progress in the Book and Upcoming Podcast Plans

• Three-Quarters Milestone ([00:44]):
  • Faith informs listeners that they are now three-quarters through David Copperfield (Chapter 48 of 64).
  • Upcoming episodes: Final chapter (Aug 17), a concluding reflection episode (Aug 20), and a brief hiatus before a new book in September.
  • Faith teases the reveal of the next book with a trailer dropping in August.

Listener Mailbag & Community Reactions ([06:44])

• Themes of Forgiveness and Character Development:
  • Cody Van Dyke appreciates Dickens' broad sweep of lessons: "I love how Dickens has every one of his characters learning life lessons throughout the book. No one escapes." ([06:44])
  • Megan Miller challenges Emily’s choices: "I find her weak and foolish and hard to sympathize with...But then perhaps that strengthens the Christ metaphor. We are hardly likable. We are foolish and weak, yet Christ sought us out as a pearl of great price." ([07:19])
  • Ashley H. connects Aunt Betsy's story to the book's broader themes: "Love to see that Aunt Betsy's advice has weight...it seems she too married for shallow reasons and learned the hard way." ([07:54])

Commentary before the Reading

Miss Betsy's Secret Revealed ([07:58])

• The mysterious man haunting Miss Betsy is unveiled as her estranged, dreadful husband. Faith explores:
  • The connection between Miss Betsy’s youthful, impulsive marriage and David’s similarly naïve attachment to Dora.
  • Miss Betsy as a complex character: outwardly stern but inwardly sentimental and loyal, giving her husband money out of lingering affection rather than vengeance.
    • "So she put all that sort of sentiment once and forever in a grave and filled it up and flattened it down. But she didn’t. She didn’t at all...she’s also kind to her horrible husband in memory of the love that she once bore him, which is actually very sentimental, even though she says that she’s not." ([11:08])
    • Quote from Miss Betsy: "I was a fool when I married him, and I am so far an incurable fool on that subject, that for the sake of what I once believed him to be, I wouldn’t have even this shadow of my idle fancy hardly dealt with, for I was in earnest, Trot, if ever a woman was." ([12:05])

Redemption for Martha and Mr. Peggotty’s Forgiveness ([13:07])

• Faith explores how Mr. Peggotty's approach to Martha reflects the vital theme of extending forgiveness not just to his own niece (Emily), but to other societal outcasts like Martha.

  • Mr. Peggotty, though pained, acknowledges the parallels between Martha and Emily and chooses compassion.
    • David: “I never saw in any painting or reality horror and compassion so impressively blended. He shook as if he would have fallen.” ([14:31])
    • Mr. Peggotty: "Martha, God forbid as I should judge you, forbid as I of all men should do that, my girl, you don’t know half the change that's come in course of time upon me when you think it likely." ([15:18])
    • "She’s more dear to me now, Martha, than she was dear afore." ([15:38])

• Faith notes Dickens' subtle Christian themes: "Again, like Megan says, is that Christ like attitude coming from Mr. Peggotty. Again, we get the sense here that Martha isn’t just learning that one guy can forgive one girl, but that there is a higher forgiveness available to those who seek it out." ([16:29])

• Martha's own despair and poetic metaphor for her life:

  • Martha: “It comes from country places where there was once no harm in it. And it creeps through the dismal streets, defiled and miserable, and it goes away like my life to a great sea that is always troubled, and I feel that I must go with it.” ([18:15])

Faith’s Running Notes During Chapter 48

Domestic Chaos and the Page Boy ([23:11]–[27:46])

• David and Dora’s mismanaged household highlighted by their comically disastrous page boy, whose misadventures and eventual criminality (theft, perjury) reflect the couple’s lack of control.
• Faith explains references (Whittington, etc.) and contextualizes David’s growing frustration.

David Attempts to 'Form' Dora’s Mind ([27:46]–[34:00])

• A heartfelt exchange where David, aiming for maturity and order, tries to gently correct Dora’s child-like ways.

  • “It is not merely, my pet, that we lose money and comfort and even temper sometimes by not learning to be more careful, but that we incur the serious responsibility of spoiling every one who comes into our service...I begin to be afraid that the fault is not entirely on one side...” ([28:25])
  • Dora reacts emotionally, feeling insulted by the comparison to the page boy: “Oh, you cruel fellow. To compare your affectionate wife to a transported page. Why didn’t you tell me your opinion of me before we were married?...” ([29:40])

• David’s fruitless efforts to ‘educate’ Dora:

  • "No matter how incidentally or naturally I endeavored to form my little wife's mind, I could not help seeing that she always had an instinctive perception of what I was about and became a prey to the keenest apprehensions. In particular, it was clear to me that she thought Shakespeare a terrible fellow." ([34:00])

Acceptance, Love, and Subtle Tragedy ([34:00]–[42:51])

• David ultimately recognizes Dora cannot be molded, and resolves to love her as she is.

  • ‘It began to occur to me that perhaps Dora’s mind was already formed.’ ([34:00])
  • “Why should I seek to change what has been so precious to me for so long? You never can show better than as your own natural self, my sweet Dora. And we'll try no conceited experiments, but go back to our old way and be happy.” ([36:28])

• The “shadow” on David’s heart—a soft ongoing regret that his marriage lacks intellectual partnership. He bears this quietly and chooses to preserve happiness over perfection.

• Dora’s fragile health emerges, culminating in a miscarriage, and growing ominous signs for her future are hinted at.

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Notable Quotes & Moments (with Timestamps)

• On Forgiveness & Redemption:

  • Mr. Peggotty: "Martha, God forbid as I should judge you, forbid as I of all men should do that, my girl..." ([15:18])
  • David: “I never saw in any painting or reality horror and compassion so impressively blended...” ([14:31])
  • Martha: “It comes from country places where there was once no harm in it...it goes away like my life to a great sea that is always troubled...” ([18:15])

• On Betsy Trotwood:

  • “I was a fool when I married him, and I am so far an incurable fool on that subject...” ([12:05])

• On David and Dora’s Marriage:

  • David: “It is not merely...that we lose money and comfort...but that we incur the serious responsibility of spoiling every one who comes into our service...” ([28:25])
  • Dora: “Oh, you cruel fellow. To compare your affectionate wife to a transported page...” ([29:40])
  • David: “Why should I seek to change what has been so precious to me for so long? ...you never can show better than as your own natural self, my sweet Dora.” ([36:28])

• Closing Evocation of Loss:

  • “The spirit fluttered for a moment on the threshold of its little prison, and unconscious of captivity took wing, meaning Dora got pregnant, and David hoped that becoming a mother would help her to grow up a bit. But then she had a miscarriage.” ([42:51])

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Important Timestamps

• 00:44: Explanation of podcast/book timeline and upcoming episodes
• 05:28: Recap of Chapter 47 and setup for Chapter 48
• 06:44: Listener mail dialogue—reflection on themes and characters
• 07:58: Revelatory commentary on Miss Betsy’s past and emotional complexity
• 13:07: Analysis of Mr. Peggotty’s forgiveness of Martha
• 18:05: Martha’s river metaphor and redemption arc
• 23:11: Chapter 48 reading begins; misadventures of the page boy
• 27:46: David confides marriage troubles and attempts to 'form' Dora’s mind
• 36:28: David’s realization and final acceptance of Dora as she is
• 42:51: Dora’s health crisis, miscarriage, and David’s quiet sorrow

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Memorable Moments

• The reveal of Miss Betsy’s continued compassion for her estranged husband, bringing new depth to her character
• The subtle but powerful Christian undertones as Dickens offers compassion and forgiveness to characters like Martha and Emily
• David’s earnest but misguided attempts to “educate” Dora, culminating in his humble realization that love requires acceptance, not correction
• The gentle, poignant depiction of Dora’s declining health, shadowed by both physical and emotional vulnerability

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Faith Moore’s Tone and Style

Faith maintains a companionable, conversational tone throughout, blending literary analysis with a warmth that invites listeners to feel not only the text’s drama but its humanity. Her commentary is insightful but never heavy-handed, rendering Dickens accessible, and breathing modern empathy into classic dilemmas. Her encouragement for listener participation and promotion of the online community further underscores the podcast’s welcoming spirit.

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For newcomers and fans alike, this episode provides layered insight into both the narrative’s evolution and Dickens’ ongoing social and moral commentary—while navigating the messy, often painful process of learning to love and forgive ourselves and others.

Transcript

[A]

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.

[B]

So brew a pot of tea, find

[A]

a cozy chair and settle in. It's story time.

[C]

Hi.

[A]

Welcome back.

[B]

So I promised that I would tell you when this happened, and it has happened. We are 3/4 of the way through this book. Chapter 48, if I'm doing my math correctly, which is always a question, because math is not my strong suit. But if I'm doing this correctly, I believe that chapter 48 is three quarters of the way through the book because there are 64 chapters, so you can check my math. But I think that 48 is 3/4 of 64. So we are actually kind of in the home stretch. I mean, since the book is so long, there are still many, many chapters

[A]

left to go and we still have

[B]

a lot to get through.

[C]

But.

[B]

But I do think that at this point the narrative is kind of trending back downward. All the loose ends and the things that Dickens has thrown out there for us, all the various plot points that are open right now. Now we are in the business of kind of closing those up, as happened with one of them, with Miss Betsy, right in the last chapter. We'll talk about that today. So I did want to let you know about that, that we are 3/4 of the way through the last chapter. Chapter 64 will drop on August 17th,

[A]

and then we'll have one more episode on August 20th.

[B]

That will be our conclusion episode. We always do one at the end of every book where we just kind of wrap up everything that we've been talking about.

[A]

So we talk about the last chapter,

[B]

but then I try to draw everything together as well as I can and kind of discuss the themes and things that we've been tracing through the whole book. So we will do that on August 20th, and then there will be a little bit of a break, probably like 10 days or two weeks. And then we will start a new book in September. And at some point in August, I haven't set the date yet, but at some point in August a trailer will drop that will reveal what the next book is going to be. Because I know that as we start to get towards the end of Things you want to know, I always want to share and I always absolutely know what it is. I've even started prepping for it and I'm very much in that at the moment. So I know what it is. But I don't want to tell you because I want you to be in suspense until August and then I will let you know and we'll talk a little bit about that and then we'll get started with that in September.

[A]

So that's kind of what's coming up.

[B]

I also just wanted to let you know that now that we're into summer, so for me at least my kids had school all the way through June. My youngest one is off now, but my older one still has a week to go. So we are just entering kind of summer vacation mode. I know for many of you this is very, very late. I know some people end in May and things like that. So for us though, summer vacation is just beginning, which is very exciting for us. But I did want to let you know that here and there there are going to be some of those episodes where I'm away and I've recorded it in advance. I think we had a couple of those earlier this year when I went away, I think for Easter time. So I just wanted to let you know that some of those are coming up. I will let you know in advance that it's going to happen and which

[A]

episodes that will be.

[B]

And in the episode I will let you know that I'm away. This is pre recorded and those episodes just won't have questions from you guys, which I. I hate. I love the questions and I think they make the show what it is. But sometimes I have to just record it in advance in order to get the episodes to you on Mondays and Thursdays. So the episodes will continue to drop every Monday and Thursday. Just some of them will be pre recorded. But I will keep you posted on that. And it's not going to be this one or the next one. So I will let you know if the next episode is going to be pre recorded and you know when I'll be back and things like that.

[A]

So I just have a little bit

[B]

of travel coming up in the summertime. So I wanted to let you know about that. Other than that, don't forget that tea time is coming up this week. It's on Thursday. So June 25th at 8pm Eastern in our online community, the drawing room. If you don't know what I'm talking about or you do but you're not yet signed up and you'd like to be, just scroll into the show, notes the description of this episode and click the link that's there and it will take you to a page that will give you more information. So I hope that you will join us and if you've been considering joining us for a while, but you haven't yet, please do come. It's a very welcoming, really fun, very casual chat. So please do join us on the 25th this Thursday if you're listening in real time at 8pm Eastern if you're interested in that. Otherwise, all the usual things, please subscribe. Please tap the five stars. Please leave a positive review. Please tell everyone you know about this show and let's get more and more people people listening to these great books together. Okay, but enough of that. We need to get to this book. So last time we read chapter 47, we're going to talk about that for a bit and today we're going to be reading chapter 48. So let's begin by reminding ourselves of what happened in chapter 47. So here is the recap.

[A]

Okay, so where we left off, David and Mr. Pagaty follow Martha down to the riverside. She seems very agitated and is potentially contemplating suicide. David approaches her and she's startled and upset. Upset. But after a while she calms down and they speak to her about Emily. She's very loyal to Emily and tells them that Emily was always kind to her, even when no one else was, and that she wants them to understand that she didn't have any part in what happened to her. David and Mr. Peggotty tell her that they know that and they ask her to help them by letting them know if she encounters Emily and keeping her safe with her until Mr. Peggotty can come and get her. Martha is very moved by this request and promises that she will make it the sole aim of her life and she refuses to take any money from them. David gives her their addresses and she leaves them. On his way home, David sees a light in Ms. Betsy's cottage and goes over there to see what's going on, and he finds a man in her front garden eating and drinking.

[B]

It's the same man that Mr. Dick

[A]

saw bothering her when David was a child and that David encountered on the street. Later on. The man leaves and Ms. Betsy is clearly very upset, but after a while she tells David that the man is actually her husband.

[B]

She says he's dead to her, but he didn't actually die.

[A]

He was a terrible husband and she doesn't love him anymore, but she did love him very much once, and because of that she can't bear to do him any harm.

[B]

And when he Shows up asking for money, gives it to him.

[A]

She asks David not to speak of

[B]

this again or to tell anyone else. All right, I'm going to read 3 comments today. The first one comes from Cody Van Dyke. She says, I love how Dickens has every one of his characters learning life lessons throughout the book.

[A]

No one escapes.

[B]

Even Miss Betsy and Mr. Peggy are learning. The second one comes from Megan Miller. She says, okay, am I the only one who doesn't love Emily that much? Mr. Peggotty is wonderful and Ham is so dedicated and dear, but Em just left them. Yes, I imagine she wanted to be a lady with some intentions of blessing them as well.

[A]

But to leave in such a way

[B]

after being engaged to Ham and knowing how he loved her, I find her

[A]

weak and foolish and hard to sympathize with. She is the over sheltered, overindulged girl we should all fear bringing up. But then perhaps that strengthens the Christ metaphor. We are hardly likable.

[B]

We are foolish and weak, yet Christ sought us out as a pearl of great price. Interesting to ponder. And this last one comes from our online community, the Drawing Room. This person goes by the handle Ashley H. She says, ah, love to see that Aunt Betsy's advice has weight.

[A]

It seems she too married for shallow reasons and learned the hard way.

[B]

Okay, so I want to actually start at the end of the chapter and then go back because we finally learned who the strange man following Miss Betsy around asking for money is. And I know that that is something that a lot of you were wondering about. Over in the Drawing room, people had begun to wonder if we would ever find out who this guy was. So I just want to acknowledge that we did. We did find out. And it's quite the bombshell, right? Ms. Betsy's husband is alive, she's actually still married, and this weird guy is

[A]

her husband, who it turns out, is

[B]

totally down and out and shows up from time to time asking for money,

[A]

which she gives him.

[B]

And I think this is interesting for two reasons. One is the one that Ashley points out that Miss Betsy knows firsthand what it is to fall for someone for the kind of superficial first crush reasons that we've been talking about in the context of David and Dora. And then to find herself trapped in a marriage that she doesn't want to be in. Now, I don't actually think that David is trapped in a marriage he doesn't

[A]

want to be in.

[B]

I think David is becoming more and more aware of the things his marriage is missing and the things that his relationship with Dora is missing. But I don't think he wants to leave Dora. I think he loves Dora, and I don't think he can actually imagine his life without her. He just sees that he made his choice based on things that aren't really a great foundation for a deep and meaningful marriage. So it's not that Ms. Betsy's situation and David's are the same. It's just that Miss Betsy also acted on the first mistaken impulse of an undisciplined heart. Remember what Mrs. Strong said? Right. She acted on that just as David did. Here's what she says. Betsy Trotwood don't look a likely subject for the tender passion. But the time was Trot. When she believed in that man most entirely. When she loved him. Trot.

[A]

Right.

[B]

Well, when there was no proof of attachment and affection that she would not have given him. Okay, so she's saying that she fell for this guy's good looks or maybe he was charming at first or whatever it was and she married him. That she was capable of falling in love that way, even though she doesn't seem like it now. Which incidentally explains even further why is so against young girls getting married. And she's always trying to get her servant girls to swear off of marriage. It's not because she hates men. It's because she knows that that first impulse of an undisciplined heart can lead you into all kinds of misery. And she wanted to help raise David's like non existent sister so that she could instill in her the sense that one shouldn't just leap at the first guy who comes along and seems into you. But the other reason I find all

[A]

this interesting is that it kind of

[B]

further illuminates the fact that Ms. Bet Betsy tries to project this image of hardness and sensibility and practicality, but she's actually like a huge softie. Right? She wants us to think that she's totally done away with all sentiment. But actually, right from the moment David arrived on her doorstep and every moment afterward, she's actually shown herself to be a completely loving, loyal, generous person to everyone that she cares about. She says, here's what she says about herself.

[A]

So she put all that sort of

[B]

sentiment once and forever in a grave and filled it up and flattened it down. But she didn't. She didn't at all. Not only has she been nothing but kind and loving and caring to Mr. Dick and to David and now to

[A]

Dora, but she's also kind to her horrible husband in memory of the love

[B]

that she once bore him, which is actually Very sentimental, even though she says that she's not. You know, divorce was very hard to get back then.

[A]

But you could get one if you could prove that your spouse was either

[B]

excessively physically abusive or that they'd been adulterous. And Miss Betsy's husband was both. Right. So she could have gotten a legal divorce. She says she could have, but she chose not to. In memory of the love that she once bore him.

[A]

Here's what she says.

[B]

But sooner than have him punished for

[A]

his offenses, as he would be if

[B]

he prowled about in this country, I give him more money than I can afford.

[A]

At intervals, when he reappears to go away. I was a fool when I married

[B]

him, and I am so far an incurable fool on that subject, that for the sake of what I once believed him to be, I wouldn't have even this shadow of my idle fancy hardly dealt with, for I was in earnest. Trot, if ever a woman was okay. So if we needed any more evidence to prove that Ms. Betsy is not at all this sort of cold, hard woman that she tries to pretend she is, here it is. And honestly, while I think that her husband is a terrible person and he should leave her alone, to put it very mildly, while I think that all of this also endears Miss Betsy to me even more, if that's possible. Okay, so there is that. That mystery is solved. And we know a bit more about Miss Betsy, and we love her all the more for it, I think. But that was really just the very tail end of this chapter.

[A]

The bulk of the chapter was all

[B]

about Martha and her reaction to being approached for help by David and Mr. Peggy. And I think the main takeaway here, as Cody and Megan point out in their letters, I think the main takeaway is what this interaction does for Mr.

[A]

Peggy and also for Martha herself.

[B]

You know, we talked last time about whether or not Mr. Peggotty would acknowledge the parallels between Emily and Martha or if he would refuse to give Martha the forgiveness that he so freely gives to Emily. And I think in this chapter we get our answer to that. And it's that he sees the parallels. And he is willing to forgive Martha, too. But it's not easy for him to do. It's not easy for him to connect this London prostitute with his wonder, Emily. And I think Meghan's point is very well taken. We are kind of angry with Emily. I mean, Steerforth lied to her. He told her he would marry her and make her a lady. But that doesn't excuse breaking off her engagement with Ham who is like the most loyal, most patient man on the face of the planet. It doesn't excuse that. And it doesn't excuse the fact that she kind of knew that there was a chance that Steerforth wouldn't marry her. So, I mean, yes, she has been taken advantage of. And I think at this point she is very much to be pitied. But she also got herself into this situation, and there's no question about that. So I think it's less that we are meant to love little Emily and more that we are meant to love Mr. Peggy and care about Emily for

[A]

his sake and for Mr. Peggy to

[B]

have to acknowledge that the girl he is seeking is in some ways similar to a girl like Martha.

[A]

It is not an easy pill to swallow.

[B]

But because he is a good and honest man, he does swallow it. Here's what David says. I never saw in any painting or

[A]

reality horror and compassion so impressively blended. He shook as if he would have fallen.

[B]

And his hand, I touched it with my own, for his appearance alarmed me, was deadly cold. So he's realizing in that moment, I think, that these two women aren't really that different from each other. And the choice that that leaves him with is, does he extend to Martha the same love and forgiveness that he unquestionably gives to Emily? Or does he turn his back on her anyway, even knowing that she.

[A]

That she's no different from Emily?

[B]

And I think we all know, even if we hadn't read it, we'd all know. I think that he'd pick forgiveness because he is now the figure of legend that he has become, the embodiment of love and forgiveness. And so he extends that to Martha. Here is what he says. He says, martha, God forbid as I

[A]

should judge you, forbid as I of

[B]

all men should do that, my girl, you don't know half the change that's come in course of time upon me when you think it likely. Okay, so he's saying that if he can love and forgive Emily, then he can love and forgive Martha, too. And he says this really moving and

[A]

important thing to Martha.

[B]

He says, she's more dear to me

[A]

now, Martha, than she was dear afore.

[B]

Meaning he loves her even more than he did before, even though she is now ruined. And this is a huge thing for

[A]

Martha, because Martha has never had that. No one in her life forgave her

[B]

for whatever her first sin was. Remember, we don't really know exactly how she became a prostitute.

[A]

It's her possible that she began by

[B]

just sort of sleeping around or even sleeping with one guy out of wedlock, and then she became a pariah. And in London she has resorted to prostitution. So it's huge for Martha to know that forgiveness is possible for someone like her. Which, again, like Megan says, is that Christ like attitude coming from Mr. Peggotty. Again, we get the sense here that Martha isn't just learning that one guy can forgive one girl, but that there

[A]

is a higher forgiveness available to those

[B]

who seek it out. And we can see this made manifest

[A]

further by the way that Martha reacts

[B]

to the trust that they put in her. David and Mr. Peggotty ask Martha to look out for Emily, right? If she shows up in London and keep her safe until they can get word that she's there and they can

[A]

come and get her. And Martha says, will you trust me?

[B]

And David says that she asked this in a low voice of astonishment.

[A]

So she's astonished that anyone would entrust

[B]

her with anything so important and that they would trust her not to corrupt

[A]

Emily even further with her presence.

[B]

Remember, she's worried initially that they think she had something to do with what happened to Emily, that somehow she convinced Emily that it would be a good idea to behave immorally. And she's seeing now that not only do they not think that, but they're willing to entrust her with this important task.

[A]

And I think too, there is a

[B]

bit of social commentary going on from Dickens here that not every prostitute is evil, not every girl who goes astray is totally void of repentance or guilt. Because what we learn from Martha in

[A]

this chapter is that she knows what

[B]

she is and what she's done, and

[A]

she hates herself for it. But she doesn't know how to get out of it. And it's very possible that that is the way that Emily is feeling too, at this point.

[B]

I mean, listen to the way that

[A]

David describes Martha at the beginning of this chapter.

[B]

He says as if she were a

[A]

part of the refuse it had cast out and left to corruption and decay. The girl we had followed strayed down to the river's brink and stood in the midst of this night picture, lonely and still, looking at the water. I mean, no one ought to be

[B]

treated like refuse left out to decay, right? And Martha gives us this really beautiful but devastating metaphor.

[A]

She says, I know that I belong to it. I know that it's the natural company of such as I am. It comes from country places where there was once no harm in it.

[B]

And it creeps through the dismal streets,

[A]

defiled and miserable, and it goes away

[B]

like My life to a great sea

[A]

that is always troubled, and I feel that I must go with it.

[B]

Essentially, she's saying that now that she's ruined, there's nothing left for her, her life is over. She came from the country, like the river flows down fresh and beautiful from the country, but gets corrupted as it churns in the. In the city, in the town and sort of flows out to sea. But now that she's seeing Mr. Peggotty's willingness to love a girl like her

[A]

and even to forgive her, specifically, specifically,

[B]

she sees that perhaps there is redemption,

[A]

there is hope, there is forgiveness, which,

[B]

I mean, that's Christianity, right? And Martha essentially makes a vow to not kill herself, to not give up, to accept their forgiveness and their trust.

[A]

It says she lifted up her eyes

[B]

and solemnly declared that she would devote

[A]

herself to this task fervently and faithfully, that she would never waver in it,

[B]

never be diverted from it, it never

[A]

relinquish it while there was any chance of hope.

[B]

I mean, Dickens is so great about stuff like this. I think this is true in A Christmas Carol as well, but in other others of his works, too, that they are suffused with Christian ideas and themes and messages.

[A]

But he never preaches at you. Instead, he offers you these little parables and he lets you take from them

[B]

what meaning you will. And I think that's really beautiful and so brilliant. But so basically, now we have a lead, right? If Emily shows up in London, which it seems fairly likely she will do, Martha will be there watching, like a good and faithful servant. So we've got a lead in that mystery story and another mystery has been solved, right? We know who Miss Betsy keeps giving money to. And so now we need to see which of the many other plot threads that Dickens is going to take up next and bring us a little bit closer to tying it all together. And there's only one way that we can find out which thread we're going to get to next, and that is to keep reading. So we're going to do that. But do not forget to write to me. It's faith k.moore.com and then you click on Contact. Or you can scroll into the show notes and find that same link that's there. Please do get in touch. And please do mark your calendars for this Thursday the 25th at 8pm Eastern for tea time. I hope to see you there. All right, let's get started with chapter

[A]

48 of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens.

[B]

It's story time.

[A]

Chapter 48, Domestic. I labored hard at my book without allowing it to interfere with the punctual discharge of my newspaper duties. And it came out and was very successful. I was not stunned by the praise which sounded in my ears. Notwithstanding that I was keenly alive to it and thought better of my own performance, I have little doubt than anybody else did. It has always been in my observation of human nature that a man who has any good reason to believe in himself Never flourishes himself before the faces of other people in order that they

[B]

may believe in him.

[A]

For this reason I retained my modesty in very self respect and the more praise I got, the more I tried to deserve. It is not my purpose in this record, though in all other essentials it is my written memory to pursue the history of my own fictions. They express themselves, and I leave them to themselves. When I refer to them. Incidentally, it is only as part of my progress. Meaning he's not going to tell us here what the novel he wrote was about. Having some foundation for believing by this time that nature and accident had made me an author, I pursued my vocation with confidence. Without such assurance. I should certainly have left it alone and bestowed my energy on some other endeavor. I should have tried to find out what nature and accident really had made me. And to be that and nothing else. I had been writing in the newspaper and elsewhere so prosperously that when my new success was achieved, I considered myself reasonably entitled to escape from the dreary debates. Meaning he's now making so much money with his writing that he can quit his job transcribing the parliamentary debates. One joyful night, therefore, I noted down the music of the parliamentary bagpipe pipes for the last time, and I have never heard it since. Though I still recognize the old drone in the newspapers without any substantial variation, except perhaps that there is more of it all the livelong session. I now write of the time when I had been married. I suppose about a year and a half. After several varieties of experiment, we had given up the housekeeping as a bad job. The house kept itself, and we kept a page. The principal function of this retainer was to quarrel with the cook, in which respect the he was a perfect Whittington without his cat or the remotest chance of being made lord mayor. Whittington. Here is Dick Whittington, a folk hero who rose from being a poor boy to Lord Mayor of London.

[B]

So David and Dora now have a

[A]

male servant who seems to do nothing but quarrel with the cook. He appears to me to have lived in a hail of saucepan lids. His whole existence was a scuffle. He would shriek for help on the most improper occasions, as when we had a little dinner party or a few friends in the evening and would come tumbling out of the kitchen with iron missiles flying after him. We wanted to get rid of him, but he was very much attached to us and wouldn't go. He was a tearful boy and broke into such deplorable lamentations when a cessation of our connection was hinted at that we were obliged to keep him. He had no mother, no anything in the way of a relative that I could discover, except a sister who fled to America the moment we had taken him off her hands. And he became quartered on us like a horrible young changeling. He had a lively perception of his own unfortunate state and was always rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket or stooping to blow his nose on the extreme corner of a little pocket handkerchief, which he never would take completely out of his pocket, but always economized and secreted. This unlucky page, engaged in an evil hour at six pounds ten per annum, was a source of continual trouble to me.

[C]

Me.

[A]

I watched him as he grew and he grew like scarlet beans with painful apprehensions of the time when he would begin to shave, Even of the days when he would be bald or gray. I saw no prospect of ever getting rid of him and projecting myself into the future, used to think what an inconvenience he would be when he was an old man. I never expected anything less than this unfortunate manner of getting me out of my difficulty. He stole Dora's watch, which, like everything else belonging to us had no particular place of its own and converting it into money, spent the produce. He was always a weak minded boy. In incessantly riding up and down between London and Uxbridge. Outside the coach he was taken to Bow street, meaning he was taken to court as well as I remember, on the completion of his 15th journey where four and sixpence and a second hand fife which he couldn't play were found upon his person. He's been going around stealing things. The surprise and its consequences would have been much less disagreeable to me if he had not been penitent. But he was very penitent indeed, and

[B]

in a peculiar way.

[A]

Not in the lump, but by instalments. For example, the day after that, on which I was obliged to appear against him, he made certain revelations touching a hamper in the cellar, which we believe to be full of wine. Wine, but which had nothing in it. Except bottles and corks. We supposed he had now eased his mind and told the worst he knew of the cook. But a day or two afterwards his conscience sustained a new twinge, and he disclosed how she had a little girl who early every morning took away our bread, and also how he himself had been suborned to maintain the milkmen in coals, meaning he gives David and Dora's coal to the milkman. In two or three days more I was informed by the authorities of his having led to the discovery of sirloins of beef among the kitchen stuff and sheets in the rag bag. A little while afterwards he broke out in an entirely new direction and confessed to a knowledge of burglarious intentions as to our premises on the part of the potboy, who was immediately taken up. I got to be so ashamed of being such a victim that I would have given him any money to hold his tongue or would have offered a round bribe for his being permitted to run away. It was an aggravating circumstance in the case that he had no idea of this, but conceived that he was making me amends in every new discovery, not to say heaping obligations on my head. At last I ran away myself whenever I saw an emissary of the police approaching with some new intelligence, and lived a stealthy life until he was tried and ordered to be transported, meaning he

[B]

was found guilty and his punishment is

[A]

to be sent to a penal colony. Even then he couldn't be quiet, but was always writing us letters. I wanted so much to see Dora before he went away that Dora went to visit him and fainted when she found herself inside the iron bars. In short, I had no peace of my life until he was expatriated and made, as I afterwards heard, a shepherd of up the country somewhere, I have no geographical idea where. All this led me into some serious reflections and presented our mistakes in a new aspect, as I could not help communicating to Dora one evening, in spite of my tenderness for her. My love, said I, it is very painful to me to think that our want of system and management involves not only ourselves, which we have got used to, but other people.

[C]

You have been silent for a long

[A]

time, and now you are going to be cross, said Dora. No, my dear. Indeed, let me explain to you what I mean.

[C]

I don't think I want to know,

[A]

said Dora, but I want you to know. My love put Gyp down. Dora put his nose to mine and said Bo, to drive my seriousness away, but not succeeding, ordered him into his pagoda and sat looking at me with her hands folded, and a most resigned little expression of countenance. The fact is, my dear, I began, there is contagion in us.

[B]

We infect everyone about us.

[A]

I might have gone on in this figurative manner if Dora's face had not admonished me that she was wondering with all her might whether I was going to propose any new kind of vaccination or other medical remedy for this unwholesome state of ours. Therefore I checked myself and made my meaning plainer. It is not merely my pet, said I, that we lose money and comfort and even temper sometimes by not learning to be more careful, but that we incur the serious responsibility of spoiling every one who comes into our service or has any dealings with us. I begin to be afraid that the fault is not entirely on one side, but that these people all turn out ill because we don't turn out very well ourselves.

[C]

Oh, what an accusation.

[A]

Exclaimed Dora, opening her eyes wide to

[C]

say that you ever saw me take gold watches.

[A]

Oh, my dearest, I remonstrated. Don't talk preposterous nonsense. Who has made the least allusion to gold watches? You did, returned Dora, you know you did. You said I hadn't turned out well

[C]

and compared me to him to whom

[A]

I asked to the page, sobbed Dora.

[C]

Oh, you cruel fellow. To compare your affectionate wife to a transported page. Why didn't you tell me your opinion of me before we were married? Why didn't you say, you hard hearted thing, that you were convinced I was worse than a transported page. Oh, what a dreadful opinion to have of me. Oh, my goodness.

[A]

Now, Dora, my love, I returned gently, trying to remove the handkerchief she pressed to her eyes, this is not only very ridiculous of you, but very wrong. In the first place, it's not true. You always said he was a storyteller, sobbed Dora.

[C]

And now you say the same of me. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?

[A]

My darling girl, I retorted, I really must entreat you to be reasonable and

[B]

listen to what I did say and

[A]

do say, my dear Dora, unless we learn to do our duty to those whom we employ, they will never learn to do their duty to us. I am afraid we present opportunities to people to do wrong that never ought to be presented.

[B]

Even if we were as lax as

[A]

we are in all our arrangements by

[B]

choice, which we are not, even if

[A]

we liked it and found it agreeable to be so, which we don't, I am persuaded we should have no right to go on in this way. We are positively corrupting people. We are bound to Think of that. I can't help thinking of it, Dora. It is a reflection I am unable to dismiss and it sometimes makes me very uneasy. There, dear, that's all. Come now, don't be foolish. Dora would not allow me for a long time to remove the handkerchief. She sat sobbing and murmuring behind it that if I was uneasy, why had I ever been married? Why hadn't I said even the day before we went to church that I knew I should be uneasy and I would rather not? If I couldn't bear her, why didn't I send her away to her aunt's at Putney or to Julia Mills in India?

[B]

Julia would be glad to see her and would not call her a transported page.

[A]

Julia never had called her anything of the sort. In short, Dora was so afflicted and so afflicted me by being in that condition that I felt it was of no use repeating this kind of effort, though never so mildly. And I must take some other course. What other course was left to take to form her mind? This was a common phrase of words which had a fair and promising sound. And I resolved to form Dora's mind. I began immediately when Dora was very childish and I would have infinitely preferred to humor her. I tried to be grave and disconcerted her and myself too. I talked to her on the subjects which occupied my thoughts. And I read Shakespeare to her and fatigued her to the last degree. I accustomed myself to giving her, as it were, quite casually, little scraps of useful information or sound opinions. And she started from them when I let them off as if they had been crackers. No matter how incidentally or naturally I endeavored to form my little wife's mind. I could not help seeing that she always had an instinctive perception of what I was about and became a prey to the keenest apprehensions. In particular, it was clear to me that she thought Shakespeare a terrible fellow. The formation went on very slowly. I pressed Traddles into the service without his knowledge. And whenever he came to see us, thus exploded my minds upon him for the edification of Dora at second hand. The amount of practical wisdom I bestowed upon Traddles in this manner was immense and of the best quality. But it had no other effect upon Dora than to depress her spirits and make her always nervous with the dread that it would be her turn next. I found myself in the condition of a schoolmaster, a trap, a pitfall of always playing spider to Dora's fly. And always pouncing out of my hole to her infinite disturbance, still looking forward through this intermediate stage, to the time when there should be a perfect sympathy between Dora and me, and when I should have formed her mind to my entire satisfaction, I persevered even for months, finding at last, however, that although I had been all this time a very porcupine or hedgehog, bristling all over with determination, I had effected nothing. It began to occur to me that perhaps Dora's mind was already formed. On further consideration, this appeared so likely that I abandoned my scheme, which had had a more promising appearance in words than in action, resolving henceforth to be satisfied with my child wife and to try to change her into nothing else by any process. I was heartily tired of being sagacious and prudent by myself and of seeing my darling under restraint. So I bought a pretty pair of earrings for her and a collar for Gyp, and went home one day to make myself agreeable. Dora was delighted with the little presents and kissed me joyfully. But there was a shadow between us, however slight, and I made up my mind that it should not be there. If there must be such a shadow anywhere, I would keep it for the future in my own breast. I sat down by my wife on the sofa and put the earrings in her ears. And then I told her that I feared we had not been quite as good company lately as we used to be, and that the fault was mine, which I sincerely felt, and which indeed it was. The truth is, Dora, my life, I said, I have been trying to be wise. And to make me wise too, said Dora timidly. Haven't you, Dody? I nodded assent to the pretty inquiry of the raised eyebrows and kissed the parted lips.

[C]

Lips? It's of not a bit of use,

[A]

said Dora, shaking her head until the earrings rang again.

[C]

You know what a little thing I

[A]

am and what I wanted you to call me from the first. If you can't do so, I am afraid you'll never like me.

[C]

Are you sure? You don't think sometimes it would have

[A]

been better to have done what, my dear? For she made no effort to proceed. Nothing, said Dora. Nothing, I repeated. She put her arms round my neck and laughed, and called herself by her favourite name of a goose, and hid her face on my shoulder in such a profusion of curls that it was quite a task to clear them away and see it.

[C]

Don't.

[B]

I think it would have been better

[A]

to have done nothing than to have tried to form my little wife's mind, said I, laughing at myself.

[B]

Is that the question? Yes, indeed I do.

[C]

Is that what you have been Trying?

[A]

Cried Dora.

[C]

Oh, what a shocking boy.

[A]

But I shall never try any more, said I, for I love her dearly, as she is without a story.

[C]

Really?

[A]

Inquired Dora, creeping closer to me. Why should I seek to change? Said I, what has been so precious to me for so long? You never can show better than as your own natural self, my sweet Dora. And we'll try no conceited experiments, but go back to our old way and be happy. And be happy, returned Dora.

[C]

Yes, all day. And you won't mind things going a tiny morsel wrong sometimes?

[A]

No, no, said I, we must do the best we can.

[C]

And you won't tell me any more

[A]

that we make other people bad, coaxed Dora, will you?

[C]

Because you know it's so dreadfully cross.

[A]

No, no, said I.

[C]

It's better for me to be stupid

[A]

than uncomfortable, isn't it? Said Dora. Better to be naturally Dora than anything else in the world.

[C]

In the world? Ah, Dodie, it's a large place.

[A]

She shook her head, turned her delighted bright eyes up to mine, kissed me, broke into a merry laugh, and sprang away to put on Gyp's new collar. So ended my last attempt to make any change in Dora. I had been unhappy in trying it. I could not endure my own solitary wisdom. I could not reconcile it with her former appeal to me as my child wife. I resolved to do what I could in a quiet way to improve our proceedings myself. But I foresaw that my utmost would be very little, or I must degenerate into the spider again and be forever lying in wait. And the shadow I have mentioned that was not to be between us any more, but was to rest wholly on my own heart. How did that fall? The old unhappy feeling pervaded my life. It was deepened, if it were changed at all. But it was as undefined as ever, and addressed me like a strain of sorrowful music faintly heard in the night. I loved my wife dearly, and I was happy. But the happiness I had vaguely anticipated once was not the happiness I enjoyed. And there was always something wanting in fulfilment of the compact I have made with myself to reflect my mind on this paper, I again examine it closely and bring its secrets to the light. What I missed, I still regarded, I always regarded as something that had been a dream of my youthful fancy, that was incapable of realization, that I was now discovering to be so with some natural pain as all men did, but that it would have been better for me if my wife could have helped me more and shared the many thoughts in which I had no partner. And that this might have been, I knew between these two irreconcilable conclusions. The one that what I felt was general and unavoidable. The other that it was particular to me and might have been different. I balanced curiously with no distinct sense of their opposition to each other. When I thought of the airy dreams of youth that are incapable of realization, I thought of the better state preceding manhood that I had outgrown. And then the contented days with Agnes in the dear old house arose before me like spectres of the dead that might have some renewal in another world, but never more could be reanimated here. Sometimes the speculation came into my thoughts what might have happened or what would have happened if Dora and I had never known each other. But she was so incorporated with my existence that it was the idlest of all fancies and would soon rise out of my reach and sight like gossamer floating in the air. I always loved her. What I am describing slumbered and half awoke and slept again in the innermost recesses of my mind.

[C]

Mind.

[A]

There was no evidence of it in me. I know of no influence it had in anything I said or did. I bore the weight of all our little cares and all my projects. Dora held the pens, and we both felt that our shares were adjusted as the case required. She was truly fond of me and proud of me. And when Agnes wrote a few earnest words in her letters to Dora of the pride and interest with which my old friends heard of my growing reputation and read my book as if they heard me speaking its contents. Dora read them out to me with tears of joy in her bright eyes and said I was a dear, old clever, famous boy. The first mistaken impulse of an undisciplined heart. Those words of Mrs. Strong's were constantly recurring to me at this time, were almost always present to my mind. I awoke with them often in the night. I remember to have even read them in dreams inscribed upon the walls of houses. For I knew now that my own heart was undisciplined when it first loved Dora and that if it had been disciplined, it never could have felt when we were married what it had felt in its secret experience. There can be no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose. Those words I remembered, too. I had endeavored to adapt Dora to myself and found it impracticable. It remained for me to adapt myself to Dora, to share with her what I could and be happy to bear on my own shoulders what I must and be happy still, this was the discipline to which I tried to bring my heart. When I began to think, it made my second year much happier than my first, and what was better still made Dora's life all sunshine. But as that year wore on, Dora was not strong. I had hoped that lighter hands than mine would help to mold her character, and that a baby smile upon her breast might change my child wife to a woman it was not to be. The spirit fluttered for a moment on the threshold of its little prison, and unconscious of captivity took wing, meaning Dora got pregnant, and David hoped that becoming a mother would help her to grow up a bit. But then she had a miscarriage.

[C]

When I can run about again as

[A]

I used to, Aunt, said Dora, I shall make Jip race. He is getting quite slow and lazy, I suspect, my dear, said my aunt quietly, working by her side. He has a worse disorder than that. H. Dora, do you think he is old? Said Dora, astonished. Oh, how strange it seems that Jip should be old. It's a complaint we are all liable to, little one, as we get on in life, said my aunt cheerfully. I don't feel more free from it than I used to be, I assure you.

[C]

But Jip.

[A]

Said Dora, looking at him with compassion, even little Jip.

[C]

Oh, poor fellow.

[B]

I dare say he'll last a long time yet.

[A]

Blossom, said my aunt, patting Dora on the cheek as she leaned out of her couch to look at Gyp, who responded by standing on his hind legs and balking himself in various asthmatic attempts to scramble up by the head and shoulders. He must have a piece of flannel in his house this winter, and I shouldn't wonder if he came out quite fresh again with the flowers in the spring. Bless the little dog. Exclaimed my aunt. If he had as many lives as a cat, and was on the point of losing em all, he'd bark at me with his last breath. I believe Dora had helped him up on the sofa, where he really was defying my aunt to such a furious extent that he couldn't keep straight, but barked himself sideways. The more my aunt looked at him, the more he reproached her, for she had lately taken to spectacles, and for some inscrutable reason he considered the glasses personal. Dora made him lie down by her with a good deal of persuasion, and when he was quiet drew one of his long ears through and through her hand, repeating thoughtfully, even little Gyp. Oh, poor fellow, his lungs are good enough, said my aunt gaily, and his dislikes are not at all feeble. He has a good many Years before him, no doubt. But if you want a dog to race with Little Blossom, he has lived too well for that. And I'll give you one. Thank you, Aunt, said Dora faintly.

[C]

But don't, please.

[A]

No, said my aunt, taking off her spectacles. I couldn't have any other dog but Jip, said Dora.

[C]

It would be so unkind to Jip.

[A]

Besides, I couldn't be such friends with any other dog but Jip, because he

[C]

wouldn't have known me before I was married and wouldn't have barked at Dodie when he first came to our house.

[A]

I couldn't care for any other dog but Jip. I am afraid, Aunt, to be sure, said my aunt, patting her cheek again.

[C]

You are right.

[A]

You are not offended, said Dora, are you? Why, what a sensitive pet it is. Cried my aunt, bending over her affectionately. To think that I could be offended. No, no, I don't really think so, returned Dora. But I am a little tired, and it made me silly for a moment. I am always a silly little thing, you know. But it made me more silly to talk about Gyp. He has known me in all that has happened to me, haven't you, Jip? And I couldn't bear to slight him because he was a little altered. Could I, Jip? Jip nestled closer to his mistress and lazily licked her hand. You are not so old, Jip, are you, that you'll leave your mistress yet, said Dora. We may keep one another company a little longer, my pretty Dora. When she came down to dinner on the ensuing Sunday and was so glad to see old Traddles who always dined with us on Sunday, we thought she would be running about as she used to do in a few days, but they said wait a few more days, and then wait a few days more, and still she neither ran nor walked. She looked very pretty and was very merry, but the little feet that used to be so nimble when they danced round Jip were dull and motionless. I began to carry her downstairs every morning and upstairs every night. She would clasp me round the neck and laugh the while as if I did it for a wager. Gip would bark and caper round us and go on before and look back on the landing breathing short, to see that we were coming. My aunt, the best and most cheerful of nurses, would trudge after us, a moving mass of shawls and pillows. Mr. Dick would not have relinquished his post of candle bearer to anyone alive. Traddles would be often at the bottom of the staircase, looking on and taking charge of the sportive messages from Dora to the dearest girl in the world. We made quite a gay procession of it, and my child wife was the gayest there. But sometimes when I took her up and felt that she was lighter in my arms, a dead blank feeling came upon me, as if I were approaching to some frozen region yet unseen that numbed my life. I avoided the recognition of this feeling by any name, dream, or by any communing with myself, until one night when it was very strong upon me and my aunt had left her with a parting cry of good night, little blossom. I sat down at my desk alone and tried to think, oh, what a fatal name it was, and how the blossom withered in its bloom upon the tree. 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

[B]

Show Notes to make a donation.

[A]

I would really really appreciate it. Alright everyone, story time is over to be continue.