David Copperfield

Chapter 2 My Birth (2)
Chapter 1 My Birth(2)
"No, never," said Miss Bessie, "you have some tea first."

"Oh, but, can drinking tea make you feel better?" My mother was not at ease.

"Certainly," said Miss Betsy, "don't worry, don't be suspicious. Well, what do you call your girl?"

"Maybe it's a boy, miss," said my mother innocently.

"Bless the child!" cried Miss Bessie, applying it not to me, but to my mother. "I don't mean that, I mean your maid."

"Peggotty," said my mother.

"Peggotty!" repeated Miss Bessie angrily, "you mean, my child, that there really was a man who went into the Church of Christ and called himself such a queer name—Peggotty? ?”

"That was her name," said my mother timidly. "Mr. Copperfield called it that, because we have the same Christian name."

"Come here, Peggotty," cried Miss Bessie, opening the drawing-room door. "Bring tea. Your wife is not well. Don't dawdle."

Miss Bessie spoke with the air of the head of the household, and looking out, she caught sight of Peggotty, who had hurried up the corridor with a candle, and closed the door again, as before. Sit down the same way: feet on the grate, clothes hem folded, hands on one knee.

"I said you had a girl," said Miss Betsy. "I'm sure it must be a girl. I have a hunch it must be a girl. I say, boy, from the time the girl was born—"

"If it's a boy," my mother interjected.

"I tell you, I have a presentiment that the child must be a girl," replied Miss Betsy, "don't carry it with me. From the time the girl was born, child, I've been friends with her. I'd like to be Her godmother, I want you to call her Bessie Trowood Copperfield. This Bessie Trowood can't live in a daze. I won't let her spoil her love, poor man. She deserves a good education and good guardianship, so that she will not abuse her giri and believe things she shouldn't believe. I must take this as my own responsibility."

Miss Bessie shook her head at every word, as if some old grudge was arousing in her, and she took great pains not to let it manifest itself.But as my mother was too afraid of Miss Bessie, she didn't know what to say.

"How is David treating you, child?" asked Miss Betsy, after a moment's calm. "Are you two happy together?"

"We're happy," my mother replied, "and Copperfield has been very kind to me."

"Oh! I think he spoiled you," went on Miss Betsy.

"I'm left alone in this world again, struggling, all on my own, and I think he's spoiled me in that way," my mother whimpered.

"Oh, don't cry!" said Miss Betsy. "You two aren't right—if husband and wife are—that's why I'm asking you that question. You're an orphan, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You used to be a nanny, didn't you?"

"Yes, I worked as a baby-sitter in a family where Mr. Copperfield was. He was very kind and caring to me, and then he proposed to me, which I said yes to. So we got married." ’” my mother said frankly.

"Oh, poor child," said Miss Bessie thoughtfully, "what can you do?"

"I don't understand you, miss," my mother stammered.

"For example, housekeeping and other things." Miss Bessie said.

"Not so much, I'm afraid," my mother replied, "not as much as I expected. But Copperfield has taught me in the past—"

"He knows too much!" Miss Betsy interrupted.

"I hoped to make great progress, because I studied hard and he taught patiently, but he left me behind..." My mother cried again, unable to continue.

"Come, come!" said Miss Betsy reassuringly.

"I often keep accounts, every day, and settle accounts with Mr. Copperfield at night," my mother said, and began to cry again.

"Well, well," said Miss Betsy, "don't cry."

"I dare say we never disagreed in our accounts, unless Mr. Copperfield said I had written three and five too closely together, or put a little hook on seven and nine." My mother paused again in another pang of grief.

"Don't be like this all the time," said Miss Betsy. "It won't do you any good, or my goddaughter. Well, don't cry any more."

Reasons like these went a long way in reassuring my mother, but what calmed her even more was her growing discomfort.A silence followed, sometimes broken by an "Alas" from Miss Betsy, who still sat with her feet on the grate.

"I know David bought an annuity out of his own savings," she said. "How did he arrange it for you?"

"Mr. Copperfield," answered my mother, now with difficulty in speaking, "he has been very considerate to me, and has given me a portion of his annuity."

"How much?" asked Miss Betsy.

"One hundred and five pounds a year," said my mother.

"That's all right," said my aunt, "because he could have done worse."

"Bad" is a very appropriate word, because my mother's situation was really bad at the time.So when Peggotty came in with the tea-tray and candle, she saw at once that my mother was distressed--in fact, Miss Bessie would have seen it if the room had been brighter.Peggotty immediately helped her upstairs to her own bedroom, and sent her nephew Ham Peggotty to fetch the nurse and doctor.Ham has been at our house for more than a day, in case of emergency.

When these people arrived one after another, they found a strange woman sitting in front of the fireplace indifferently, with a hat tied on her left arm and jeweler's cotton stuffed in her ears. They were all very surprised.Peggotty knew nothing of the old lady, and my mother never mentioned her, so she sat in the drawing-room a complete mystery.The fact that she stuffed her pockets with jeweller's cotton, and stuffed her ears like that, did not in the least affect her stately presence.

The doctor came down after seeing the patient upstairs, because it was supposed that he had tried to appear polite and friendly since he thought that the old lady, whom he had never known, was likely to sit face to face with him for several hours. .He was the most humble and gentle of the kind.He enters and leaves the house on his side to take up less space.He walked lightly and more slowly.He tilted his head to one side, partly to belittle himself, partly to please everyone.It would be all right if he never bothered with a dog, not even with a mad dog.If he had to deal with the dog, he spoke to him very gently, or half a sentence, or a part of a sentence; for he talked as slowly as he walked.For whatever reason, he would not be rough with a mad dog, or even annoyed with it.

Mr. Qillpool tilted his head to one side, looked at my aunt submissively, bowed slightly, and at the same time touched her left ear lightly, suggesting why the ear was stuffed with cotton, and said:

"Is it a partial infection of the ear, ma'am?"

"What?" my aunt asked, pulling the piece of cotton out of her ear like a plug.

Mr. Qillpool was frightened by her brutality, but he repeated very gently:

"Is it a partial infection of the ear, ma'am?"

"What nonsense!" my aunt replied, stuffing herself up again.

After hitting the nail on the head, Qi Lipu sat down in horror and stared blankly at my aunt, who sat looking at the fire, and finally he was called upstairs again.He went upstairs for about a quarter of an hour, then came down again.

"Hello?" my aunt asked, taking out the cotton stuffed in the ear next to him.

"Well, ma'am," replied Mr. Qillpool, "ma'am, it's—no hurry."

"Bah-bah-bah!" My aunt used a very pure vibrato in expressing contempt, and then stuffed her ears with cotton as before.

It was true—it was true—Mr. Qillpool told my mother afterwards—he kind of frightened my aunt then.In spite of this he sat looking at her, and she sat looking at the fire; and after almost two hours he was called upstairs again.After that, he went back to the living room and sat down.

"Hello?" My aunt suddenly took out the cotton stuffed in the ear next to the doctor and asked.

"Well, ma'am," replied Mr. Qillpool, "we're--slowly going on, ma'am."

"Ya-ya-ya!" my aunt said.He looked vicious, and later my aunt also said that the "ah" was indeed designed to torture his spirit.He didn't dare to stay in the living room anymore, so he just sat on the stairs in the dark and cold wind.

Ham Peggotty was at the level of a free elementary school and was good at class questions and answers, so he could be regarded as a reliable witness.He related the next day that, an hour after this had happened, he had sometimes furtively glanced at the drawing-room door, but was at once noticed by Miss Betsy, and was seized before he had time to escape.Ham said Miss Bessie could hear the occasional footsteps and voices upstairs, though her ears were stuffed with cotton.He added that the lady had apparently caught him as a scapegoat when her voice was at its highest, when she was too fidgety to vent.She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him around (as if she had taken too much opium), she shook him, grabbed his hair, rubbed his shirt, and covered his ears, as if she couldn't tell His ears and his own; in addition, he rubbed and beat him fiercely.What he said was partly corroborated by his aunt.Because she saw him at 12:30 when he was just released, and it is said that he was as popular as me at that time.

Gentle Mr. Qillip could be malicious even at any time, but he could not on such a time.So as soon as he was done, he walked sideways into the drawing room, and said to my aunt in his most amiable manner:

"Madam, congratulations."

"Why?" my aunt asked sharply.

Mr. Qillpool was again frightened at the sight of my aunt's stern manner; so he bowed slightly to her, and smiled at her.

"My God, what are you doing!" My aunt was quite impatient, "Can't you talk?"

"Don't worry, my dear lady," said Mr. Qillippe, in his very soft voice, "you need not worry, madam."

It was regarded as a miracle that my aunt did not shake him, but shook the words in his heart.She just shook her head at him, but even this small gesture terrified him.

"Well, ma'am," continued Mr. Qillips after a moment's courage, "congratulations, ma'am, all is well."

My aunt stared at him intently.

"How is she?" said my aunt, crossing her arms and still wearing her hat on one arm.

"Well, ma'am, I don't think she'll be feeling any better in a while," replied Mr. Kilippe, "as much comfort as we can expect from a young mother with her first child in such tragic circumstances." That's all. Madame, you'll be able to see her now without any inconvenience, and it may do her good."

"What about her? How is she?" my aunt asked sharply.

Qi Lipu tilted his head down a little more, and he looked like a pleasing bird.

"That kid," said my aunt, "how is she?"

"Ma'am," replied Mr. Qillpool, "I thought you knew it already. It's a boy."

After hearing this, my aunt said nothing, but took aim at Mr. Qillpool's head by tugging at the bonnet strap, then put the bonnet on his head again, got up and went away, never coming back again.Like a disappointed nymph, or some ghost or ghost that everyone supposed I could see, she vanished all at once, and was never seen again.

Yes, never come back.Now I lie in the basket, and my mother in hers; and that Bessie Trowood Copperfield stays forever in the dreamland.The light from our bedroom window shines on the earthly home of all travelers like me, and also on the wreckage and dusty mound of the man who had none.

(End of this chapter)