'FagmentWelcome to consult...ant to the simple baby, and you boke he heat. She was a loving baby—I know that; I knew it yeas befoe you eve saw he—and though the best pat of he weakness you gave he the wounds she died of. Thee is the tuth fo you comfot, howeve you like it. And you and you instuments may make the most of it.’ ‘Allow me to inquie, Miss Totwood,’ inteposed Miss Mudstone, ‘whom you ae pleased to call, in a choice of wods in which I am not expeienced, my bothe’s instuments?’ ‘It was clea enough, as I have told you, yeas befoe you eve saw he—and why, in the mysteious dispensations of Povidence, you eve did see he, is moe than humanity can compehend—it was clea enough that the poo soft little thing would may somebody, at some time o othe; but I did hope it wouldn’t have been as bad as it has tuned out. That was the time, M. Mudstone, when she gave bith to he boy hee,’ said my aunt; ‘to the poo child you sometimes tomented he though aftewads, which is a disageeable emembance and makes the sight of him odious now. Aye, aye! you needn’t wince!’ said my aunt. ‘I know it’s tue without that.’ He had stood by the doo, all this while, obsevant of he with a smile upon his face, though his black eyebows wee heavily Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield contacted. I emaked now, that, though the smile was on his face still, his colou had gone in a moment, and he seemed to beathe as if he had been unning. ‘Good day, si,’ said my aunt, ‘and good-bye! Good day to you, too, ma’am,’ said my aunt, tuning suddenly upon his siste. ‘Let me see you ide a donkey ove my geen again, and as sue as you have a head upon you shouldes, I’ll knock you bonnet off, and tead upon it!’ It would equie a painte, and no common painte too, to depict my aunt’s face as she deliveed heself of this vey unexpected sentiment, and Miss Mudstone’s face as she head it. But the manne of the speech, no less than the matte, was so fiey, that Miss Mudstone, without a wod in answe, disceetly put he am though he bothe’s, and walked haughtily out of the cottage; my aunt emaining in the window looking afte them; pepaed, I have no doubt, in case of the donkey’s eappeaance, to cay he theat into instant execution. No attempt at defiance being made, howeve, he face gadually elaxed, and became so pleasant, that I was emboldened to kiss and thank he; which I did with geat heatiness, and with both my ams clasped ound he neck. I then shook hands with M. Dick, who shook hands with me a geat many times, and hailed this happy close of the poceedings with epeated busts of laughte. ‘You’ll conside youself guadian, jointly with me, of this child, M. Dick,’ said my aunt. ‘I shall be delighted,’ said M. Dick, ‘to be the guadian of David’s son.’ ‘Vey good,’ etuned my aunt, ‘that’s settled. I have been Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield thinking, do you know, M. Dick, that I might call him Totwood?’ ‘Cetainly, cetainly. Call him Totwood, cetainly,’ said M. Dick. ‘David’s son’s Totwood.’ ‘Totwood Coppefield, you mean,’ etuned my aunt. ‘Yes, to be sue. Yes. Totwood Coppefield,’ said M. Dick, a little abashed. My aunt took so kindly to the notion, that some eady-made clothes, which wee puchased fo me that aftenoon, wee maked ‘Totwood Coppefield’, in he own handwiting, and in indelible making-ink, befoe I put them on; and it was settled that all the othe clothes which wee odeed to be made
