David Copperfield

Chapter 123 Agnes

Chapter 60 Agnes

When everyone else was gone and it was just my aunt and I, we chatted late into the night about how expatriate people always wrote in a cheerful and hopeful way; how Mr. Micawber sent home small sums , to pay off the debts he had paid off as businessly as between man and man; The hotel owner is married.All this was our subject--I already knew more or less from their letters to me in the past.Mr. Dick, as a rule, is not to be forgotten, my aunt said, how he kept copying, and was free and happy with this semblance of occupation, which was the chief pleasure and joy of my aunt's life. one of the rewards.

"And when will you, Tello," said my aunt, "go to Canterbury?"

"If you don't go with me, Auntie, I will ride tomorrow morning. Will you go?"

"No!" said my aunt, "I don't want to go anywhere else, but stay here."

I said I should never pass through Canterbury without stopping if it hadn't been her whom I was anxious to see today.

She was glad to hear that, but she answered me, "Come on, Trol, I'm sure I'll live to-morrow!"

I sat there thoughtfully looking at the fire.

I meditate because of the regrets that have long haunted my heart, which may have been allayed, only teaching me what should have been learned when I was in the prime of my life. "Oh, Troy, you're blind! You're blind!" I thought I heard my aunt say again, and I understand her better now.

"Her father is very old, you will see," said my aunt, "but he is a better man--a reformed man, who has given up his poor little measuring-rule To measure the interests, joys and sorrows of life. Remember what I said, child, such things, measured with such a ruler, will only be greatly reduced."

"Indeed it is," I said.

"To her," continued my aunt, "was always so kind, so beautiful, so sincere, so unselfish as she was. If I had any better words to say, Trol, I would add them." on her."

"If she had trained the girls around her to be like herself," said my aunt, "for God's sake, she would have lived her life well! Good for others, happy for herself, as she once said! How could she not be like this?"

"Did Agnes—" I asked.

"Huh? Is there anything?" My aunt asked alertly.

"Is there anyone you like?" I said.

"Twenty," cried my aunt, "my dear, she has been able to marry twenty times since you went away!"

"No doubt," I said, "but has she any match for her?"

My aunt looked at me and said:

"I guess she's got a sweetheart, Tello."

"Someone with whom a marriage might end up?" I asked.

"Tro," replied my aunt, "she hasn't told me, it's just my guess!"

"In that case," I began, "I hope that—"

"I don't know if that's the case," said my aunt hastily. "You must not be swayed by my suspicions, you must take my suspicions to heart. Keep this secret. My suspicions are quite unfounded."

"In that case," I repeated, "Anese will tell me in due time. My aunt, a sister who is so confiding, will not keep her secret from me." Before we went to bed, we Did not say a word.

I rode up to Canterbury early in the morning.

I walked to the old house on foot, and then walked away, too excited to go in.I ended up coming back.As I passed, I looked in through the low window in the corner where Julia Heep and then Mr. Micawber used to sit, and the place had now become a little drawing-room, and there was no office.The quiet old house was still tidy, and I begged the new maid who greeted me to say to Miss Wickfield that a friend abroad came to greet her.The door opened and Agnes walked in.

"Agnes! My dear girl! I came so unprepared!"

"No! Not suddenly! I am only glad to see you, Trowood!"

"Agnes, seeing you again is my happiness!"

She is so genuine, so beautiful, and so kind.I owe her so much, I find her so lovely, I can't find the words to express my feelings.I want to bless her, thank her, and tell her how much influence she has had on me.But I know that everything is in vain, and my love and joy are beyond words.

Her lovely tranquility calmed my agitation, and she spoke to me passionately of Dora's grave.With her noble heart and unmistakable ability, she touched the strings of my memory so softly and harmoniously that none of them were out of tune. Afraid of all that it awakens, how can I escape this music when darling her, the patron saint of my destiny, is woven into it?

"And you, Agnes," I said, "tell me about yourself!"

"What can I say?" she answered. "Papa is in good health. You see us in our own home, our troubles are gone, and our family is back to us. Dear Troy De, when you understand this, you understand everything."

"Everything, Agnes?" I said.

She looked at me with an uneasy surprise on her face.

"Is there nothing else, sister?" I said.

She smiled slightly, and I felt a faint sadness in her smile, and shook her head.

I tried to lead her to my aunt's suspicious question, but I saw her uneasy look, so I let it go.

"You have a lot to do, don't you, Agnes dear?"

"Are you talking about my school?" she said, looking at me.

"Yes,"

"School is fun," she replied.

"It's easy for you to do good things," I said.

"Wait a minute and meet Papa," Agnes said. "Come with us for a day, won't you? Maybe you want to sleep in your own bedroom? We're used to calling that room yours."

This is not easy, as I have promised my aunt to go back to her in the evening, but I can live here happily all day.

"I've got to be a prisoner for a while," Agnes said, "but the old books are here, Troll, and the old scores."

"Even those flowers from the past are here too?" I said.

"When you were abroad," Agnes said, "I put everything in the same way we were when we were kids. I think we were happy then."

"Indeed," I said.

"Every little thing that reminds me of my brother," said Agnes, "is a welcome companion, and even it—" She showed me the little basket full of keys "seems to jingle Playing the tunes of the past!"

Then she went out.

I defend this fraternity with a religious devotion.This is my responsibility, and this is all and treasure that I leave to myself.If once I shake this holy foundation of trust and habit, that feeling is lost and impossible to regain.I take this very seriously, and the more I love her, the more I understand it.

Soon Mr. Wakefield also returned from his garden.Now he spends almost every day doing his gardening in the garden about two miles outside the city, and what I see of him is exactly what my aunt described.

After dinner we all went upstairs, where Agnes and her schoolchildren were in class.Soon the children left, and the three of us talked about the past.

"I used to," said Mr. Wakefield, "had many regrets--very regrettable and hateful things, Trowood, as you well understand. But even if I had the power to put them past If I write it off, I won't do it either.

"If I kill those things," he went on, "I have to kill that patience, loyalty, filial piety, and love. These are the qualities that I should keep in mind."

"I understand, sir," I said softly, "I have always respected that era."

"But no one knows," said he, "how much she has done and suffered, and how much she has struggled. My dear Agnes!"

"Well," said he, "I haven't told you about her mother, Trowood. Has anyone ever told you?"

"Never, sir."

"There wasn't a lot to say, but there was a lot of pain in it. She married me without her father's permission, so they broke off. Her father wouldn't forgive her until Agnes was born." . She was very sad because of it."

Agnes leaned on his shoulder, wrapping her arms lightly around his neck.

"She was born with a warm and tender heart," he said, "and her heart was broken. I know her best. She loved me very much, but she was never happy, she always secretly Enduring this pain, when her father refused to forgive her for the last time-her poor health has worsened since then, and finally she couldn't afford it. She left Agnes, who was only two weeks old, to me."

He kissed Agnes' face.

"I'm not talking about myself here. I just want to talk about her mother and her, Trowood. If I give you a little clue about who I am and who I was, I know you'll figure it out yourself, Ai. I don't need to say what Niss was like. I can always find something about her poor mother in her character."

Immediately, Agnes played some old tunes we used to listen to.

"Are you going?" Agnes asked me when I stood beside her.

"Sister, what do you think about this issue?"

"I hope you don't go out again."

"Then I'll do as you say, Agnes."

"Because you ask me like this, Trowood, I don't think you ought to go out any more," she said, "and your reputation is growing, and your ability to do good is growing, even though I I am willing to part with my brother," she stared at me, "maybe time is not parting with it either!"

"The reason why I am today is because of you, Agnes, you should know me best."

"Because of me, Trowood?"

"Yes, Agnes," I said to her, "when we met, I wanted to say something I've been keeping in my mind since Dora's death, do you remember, when you came down the stairs, Come and meet me in our little room—and point your hand at me?"

"Oh, Trowood!" she answered, "how sweet, and frank, and young! I shall never forget it."

"Since then you've been like that, pointing up, Agnes; never leading me to better things, never leading me to higher places!"

She kept shaking her head.

"So, Agnes, I am so grateful to you and cannot live without you. The feelings in my heart are unspeakable. I hope you can understand, but I don't know how to tell you. I want to look up to you and accept you forever. Your guidance, as you have guided me through the darkness of the past, no matter what happens, no matter what new union you have, no matter what changes between us, I will always rely on you and love you , as I am now and ever was. You will be my comfort and support as you were, sister, and I will always see you, pointing up!"

She said she was proud of me and what I said; though my compliments far outweighed her worth.

"Do you understand? What I heard tonight, Agnes," I said, "as if part of the feeling I had for you when I first met you—."

"That's because you understand that I have no mother," she replied, "and therefore pity me."

"Not only that, Agnes, there is an inexplicable softness and kindness about you that can be troublesome in others, but not in you."

She continued to play.

"I do believe, even then, that I feel that, before you stop breathing, no matter how much you stand in the way, you will still be passionate and loyal, will you laugh at me for saying this?"

"Oh, no!"

At that moment, a shadow of pain passed over her face, but when I became aware of the shadow, it was gone.

When I rode back in the lonely night, I thought back on the situation, and I felt that she was not happy, and I was not happy.But so far, I have faithfully sealed the past.

(End of this chapter)