David Copperfield

Chapter 71 Mr. Micawber's Challenge (3)
Chapter 28 Mr. Micawber's Challenge (3)
Having said this, Mrs. Micawber, resolutely refusing our entreaties for another drink, retired to my bedroom.I really think she is a decent woman—the kind of woman who can be a famous lady in Rome, who can stand up when the society and the country are in crisis, and be a heroine who can establish various heroic careers. species of people.

At this time, I congratulate Mr. Micawber for having such a good wife.Traddles did the same.Mr. Micawber shook hands with us one by one, and pressed his little handkerchief, on which he knew far more snuff, to his face.So he picked up the bowl again and drank the wine, extremely excited.

He is very talkative.He told us that they had new life in their children.Pressured by economic hardship, the increase in the number of children is all the more welcome.Mrs. Micawber, he said, had doubted this of late, but he had explained it, and reassured her.As for those of her natal family, they were absolutely inferior to her, and he had absolutely no regard for their opinion, let them--I borrow his own expression here--to hell.

Mr. Micawber then spoke highly of Traddles.He said Traddles was indeed one of those characters who deserved to be called a character, and his poise, that he (Mr. Micawber) could not put gold on his face, saying he was, but could admire it, That's what he should be thankful for.He spoke passionately of the young lady whose name he did not yet know, whom he mentioned Traddles loved, and who gave Traddles her own love, with a blessing, which was love in return. love.Mr. Micawber raised his glass to bless her, and I did the same to her, and drank a toast.Traddles thanked both of us, and said, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And you can take my word for it. She's a very sweet girl!" As he said this, So simple and simple, so honest and honest, I couldn't help but have a good impression of him.

After Traddles had finished speaking, Mr. Micawber referred to me again, and to my capacity for every detail and courtesy.He said that unless his friend Copperfield vehemently denied it, then he would have to speak out, and his impression was that his friend Copperfield must be in love, and was being loved.I myself was hot and uncomfortable for a while, flushed and stammered for a long time, and denied such a thing, and finally got up the courage, raised my glass in my hand, and said: "That's good! Come on, I'll propose Dora to you, and you can drink to her!" After I confessed, Mr. Micawber became very energetic and elated, and ran to my room with a bowl of wine. Let Mrs. Micawber have a drink too.Mrs. Micawber drank it with enthusiasm, and shrieked from the room: "Whoa! Whoa! dear Mr. Copperfield, I am so happy. Whoa!" Applause instead.

Later, our conversation turned to more mundane matters.Mr. Micawber told us that he found the Camden area uncomfortable, and that if the ad worked and he found a satisfying job, all he wanted to do was move.He mentioned a street at the west end of Oxford Street facing Hyde Park. He had already taken a fancy to that house, but he didn't want to move in immediately, because such a house had to have many servants to be ostentatious.He added that, perhaps for a time, he would be satisfied with an upper-class residence in an elegant business district—Picadilla, for example—and that would put Mrs. Micawber in a better mood.In particular, he said, whatever opportunities he got, and wherever he lived, we could rest assured that there would always be a room for Traddles, and a knife and fork for me.We thank him for his zeal, and he asks us to forgive him for speaking in this way of such practical, worldly trifles, which are so involuntary in a man who is engaged in a fundamentally new arrangement of life, we excuse him.

Mrs. Micawber again interrupted this aspect of our friendly conversation by tapping on the wall to ask if the tea was ready.She served us tea with the most delightful attitude.Whenever I approached her to pass tea cups, bread, and butter, she would ask me in a low voice if Dora was white or black, tall or short, or something like that, and I thought I liked it when she asked, and for a while there was something elated.After tea we talked about various things in front of the fire.Mrs. Micawber sang for us (in her thin, low-pitched voice, like the usual beer froth at dinner) her favorites, "Grand Soldier" and "Little Tuffling."Mrs. Micawber was famous for singing these two tunes when she lived with her father and mother.Mr. Micawber tells us that, when he first saw her at her natal home, the very first tunes she sang particularly attracted his attention.When she sang "Little Tavern", he made up his mind that he must win this woman in this life and this life.

Between ten and eleven Mrs. Micawber rose, wrapped her hat again in the light brown paper, and put on her bonnet.Mr. Micawber surreptitiously handed me a letter while Traddles was putting on his overcoat, and bade me read it at my leisure.Mr. Micawber led Mrs. Micawber in front, Traddles followed with her hat, and I, taking the opportunity of lighting them down from the balustrade with a candle, stopped Traddles at the top of the stairs. for a while.

"Mr. Traddles," said I, "poor Mr. Micawber is not a bad fellow. But if I were you, I wouldn't lend him anything."

"My dear Copperfield," replied Traddles, smiling, "I have nothing to lend him!"

"You have a name, do you understand?" I said.

"Oh! You say it's a borrowable thing?" replied Traddles, with a thoughtful air.

"Not at all, exactly."

"Oh!" said Traddles. "Of course. Thank you very much, Mr. Copperfield. But—I might have lent him that."

"Is it for a promissory note as an investment of some sort?" I asked.

"No," said Traddles, "I've heard of that promissory note for the first time today. I think, and I think it's more likely than not, that he's going to borrow my name from me on our way home, for that above. I have lent him for another contract."

"Hope nothing goes wrong in the future," I said.

"I don't think so," said Traddles, "but I don't think there's anything wrong with it. For just the other day he said he was ready for that sum. That's what Mr. Micawber said, ready." gone."

At this moment Mr. Micawber glanced up where we stood together, so that I had only time to repeat my warning, and Traddles went down.But when I saw his honest and honest appearance, walking downstairs with his cap in his hand, and Mrs. Micawber on his arm, I was deeply worried for him, and I was afraid that he would be completely drawn into the financial market.

I returned to the fire, and thought Mr. Micawber, and his past relations with me, both sad and ridiculous.In the midst of this half-serious, half-sneering meditation, I became aware of steps hurrying up the stairs.At first I thought it was Traddles returning to fetch something Mrs Micawber had forgotten, but as the footsteps approached I recognized who it was, and felt my heart beat faster, and the blood rush to my face, For that was Steerforth's step.

I still remember Agnes, and she never left the sanctuary of my mind that I dedicated to her in the first place, if I may say so.But when Steerforth came into the room, and appeared with outstretched hands, the shadow that had fallen upon him was turned into light, and I was afraid and ashamed that I had ever doubted someone I had loved so dearly.I still love her, and still see her as a benevolent, dear, and protective auspicious star in my life.I blamed myself, not her, but said that it was I who had wronged Steerforth, and that if I knew what and how to repay him, I would certainly make any reparation.

"Hey, Daisy, my little brother, why are you dumb!" Steerforth shook my hand kindly, then shook it away gently, and said with a smile, "I've met you again , you Sebales [Note: Sebales is an ancient Greek city in southern Italy, built in 721 BC, the people in that place are known for their luxury, and the West is accustomed to call people who are extravagant Sebales People.]! These fellows from Doctor's College are the happiest people in town, I think, far better than our calm Oxford people!" His shining eyes looked happily around the room, and at the same time Sitting down on one of the sofas which Mrs. Micawber had just been sitting opposite me.Then turn on the stove again.

"As soon as I saw you come in," I said, and greeted him with all the enthusiasm I could express, "I was so surprised that I didn't even have the energy to greet you." Yes, Steerforth."

"Ah, as the Scots say, when a sick man sees me, he is cured," continued Steerforth, "and it is the same when he sees you radiant, Daisy. How are you? You Dionysus believer?"

"I'm fine," I said, "but it's not a feast tonight, although there are three guests."

"I've met all three of them in the street, and they're all singing your praises," Steerforth replied. "Who's your friend in the leggings?"

I told him my opinion of Mr. Micawber as succinctly as possible.He laughed sincerely at my vague description of the gentleman, and said at the same time that he was a man worth knowing, and he had to know him.

"But who do you think our other friend is?" I asked, turning to him.

"Can't guess," said Steerforth, "I hope he's not a nasty fellow. But I feel a little bit like—"

"Traddles!" I said proudly.

"Who is he?" asked Steerforth flatly.

"Don't you remember him? Traddles, who roomed with us at Salem's?"

"Oh, it's him!" said Steerforth, striking a coal over the fire with his poke stick. "Is he still as soft-hearted as ever? Where on earth did you find him?"

(End of this chapter)