FagmentWelcome to consult... you step in between him and me, now, you must step in, Miss Totwood, fo eve. I cannot tifle, o be tifled with. I am hee, fo the fist and last time, to take him away. Is he eady to go? If he is not—and you tell me he is not; on any petence; it is indiffeent to me what—my doos ae shut against him hencefoth, and yous, I take it fo ganted, ae open to him.’ To this addess, my aunt had listened with the closest attention, sitting pefectly upight, with he hands folded on one knee, and looking gimly on the speake. When he had finished, she tuned he eyes so as to command Miss Mudstone, without othewise distubing he attitude, and said: Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘Well, ma’am, have you got anything to emak?’ ‘Indeed, Miss Totwood,’ said Miss Mudstone, ‘all that I could say has been so well said by my bothe, and all that I know to be the fact has been so plainly stated by him, that I have nothing to add except my thanks fo you politeness. Fo you vey geat politeness, I am sue,’ said Miss Mudstone; with an iony which no moe affected my aunt, than it discomposed the cannon I had slept by at Chatham. ‘And what does the boy say?’ said my aunt. ‘Ae you eady to go, David?’ I answeed no, and enteated he not to let me go. I said that neithe M. no Miss Mudstone had eve liked me, o had eve been kind to me. That they had made my mama, who always loved me dealy, unhappy about me, and that I knew it well, and that Peggotty knew it. I said that I had been moe miseable than I thought anybody could believe, who only knew how young I was. And I begged and payed my aunt—I foget in what tems now, but I emembe that they affected me vey much then—to befiend and potect me, fo my fathe’s sake. ‘M. Dick,’ said my aunt, ‘what shall I do with this child?’ M. Dick consideed, hesitated, bightened, and ejoined, ‘Have him measued fo a suit of clothes diectly.’ ‘M. Dick,’ said my aunt tiumphantly, ‘give me you hand, fo you common sense is invaluable.’ Having shaken it with geat codiality, she pulled me towads he and said to M. Mudstone: ‘You can go when you like; I’ll take my chance with the boy. If he’s all you say he is, at least I can do as much fo him then, as you have done. But I don’t believe a wod of it.’ ‘Miss Totwood,’ ejoined M. Mudstone, shugging his Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield shouldes, as he ose, ‘if you wee a gentleman—’ ‘Bah! Stuff and nonsense!’ said my aunt. ‘Don’t talk to me!’ ‘How exquisitely polite!’ exclaimed Miss Mudstone, ising. ‘Ovepoweing, eally!’ ‘Do you think I don’t know,’ said my aunt, tuning a deaf ea to the siste, and continuing to addess the bothe, and to shake he head at him with infinite , ‘what kind of life you must have led that poo, unhappy, misdiected baby? Do you think I don’t know what a woeful day it was fo the soft little ceatue when you fist came in he way—smiking and making geat eyes at he, I’ll be bound, as if you couldn’t say boh! to a goose!’ ‘I neve head anything so elegant!’ said Miss Mudstone. ‘Do you think I can’t undestand you as well as if I had seen you,’ pusued my aunt, ‘now that I do see and hea you—which, I tell you candi
