Chapter 23 Chapter 19: I Observe Things Around My Side and Discover Something

My term of study is coming to an end, and the day when I will leave Dr. Strong's School is approaching. At this time, I don't know whether to be happy or sad.I lived happily there, developed an attachment to my Ph. D., and was famous and prestigious in that little world.Because of all this, leaving makes me sad.But for other reasons (albeit abstract ones), I like it very much.Dimly aware of the idea of ​​being a self-reliant young man, dimly aware of the value that the world values ​​a self-reliant youth, dimly aware of the wonderful things that such a grand-sounding animal will see and do, and dimly aware of the fact that he The idea of ​​the wonderful effect it was bound to have on society tempted me to leave.These dreams played such a role in my childish mind that I now seem to have no regrets when I left.This parting was not at all memorable to me like the others.I don't remember at all how I felt or what happened at the time; but in my recollection of the past, this passage is the least important.I guess, I was dazzled by the unfolding vista.I knew that my childish experience was of no value at the time; I also knew that life, more than anything else, resembles a marvelous fairy tale, and I was about to read it.

My aunt and I have had many serious conversations about the profession to which I should be dedicated.For more than a year, I have been trying to find an answer that can satisfactorily answer the question she keeps repeating-"What do I want to be?" However, all I can see is that I have no idea about anything. special hobby.If, inspired by my knowledge of seamanship, I sailed around the world with a fleet of clippers for the purpose of making new discoveries with majesty, that might suit me.But this kind of miracle is impossible. I still want to engage in a career that will not consume too much of my aunt's property. No matter what I do, I am willing to work hard.

Mr. Dick took part in such discussions with seriousness and thoughtfulness.He suggested only once: that time he suggested out of the blue (I don't know how he came up with this) that I should be a "coppersmith".His aunt resented the suggestion so much that he dared not make it again; after that he listened only to her while he rattled his purse. -------- ①The surname Copperfield is a transliteration of Copperfield, and copper means copper. "Tello, my dear, I'll tell you," said my aunt one morning during the Christmas period when I left school, "because this difficult problem has not yet been answered, and because we should avoid, as far as possible, Mistakes, I think we'd better hold off for a while. And, you should try to think about it from a new perspective, don't be too schoolboy."

"I will, Auntie." "It occurred to me," continued my aunt, "that a small change, and a look at life outside, might be beneficial in helping you to make up your mind, to come to a calmer judgment, and so on. Suppose now that you do a little Travel. Suppose, for example, you go to that old place in the country again, and visit that—that strange woman with a savage name," said my aunt, wiping her nose, for which she could not quite understand. Peggotty. "Of all the things in this world, Auntie, nothing pleases me more than this!" "Well," said my aunt, "I'm glad it is, too. But it's natural and reasonable for you to be happy about it. I'm quite sure, Troll, that whatever you do should be natural and reasonable." .”

"I hope so, Auntie." "Your sister Bessie Trowood," said my aunt, "must have been a natural and reasonable girl as long as she lived. You must do her justice, will you not?" "I hope I can do you good, auntie. Then I'll be content." "It's a pity that your poor, lovely suckling-baby mother is gone," said my aunt, looking at me approvingly, "she'll be boasting about her son, and her feeble little head will be completely dizzy. , if there is anything to be stupefied with (my aunt never admits her own weakness in me, and blames it all on my mother's part.) Good God, Trowood, how you remind me of her! "

"I hope you're very happy, auntie?" I said. "He's so like her, Dick," said the aunt emphatically. "He's like her, the way she was before that afternoon's attack. God, he's so like her, like he can see me with two eyes." "Is he really like it?" asked Mr. Dick. "He's a lot like David, too," said my aunt confidently. "He's very much like David!" said Mr. Dick. "But what I want you to do, Trol," went on my aunt, "not physically, but morally, and physically you're good enough. What I want you to do is be a firm man, a good man. A man of firmness and will. Determination," said my aunt, shaking the hat at me with her fists clenched. "Character, Trollo—strength of character, which never suffers unless there is a good cause." The influence of anything and anyone. This is what I want you to do. Originally, this is what your parents have to do, and God knows, you can benefit."

I expressed my wish to do what she said. "Then, you may start small, and rely on yourself, and do what you will," said my aunt, "and I will send you on a journey alone. For a moment I wanted Mr. Dick to go with you; Come down and take care of me." Mr. Dick looked disappointed for a moment, but the honor and dignity of caring for one of the most wonderful women in the world brought light back into his face. "Besides," said my aunt, "there's that petition." "Oh, of course," said Mr. Dick hastily. "Trowwood, I want to get the papers done right away--should be right away! And send them up, you know--this way--" Mr. Dick suppressed. He stopped himself, stopped for a long time before saying, "The world will be in chaos."

According to my aunt's kind plan, a considerable sum of money was quickly raised for me, plus a luggage bag, and I was affectionately sent on the road.At parting, my aunt gave me kind advice and lots of kisses.She said that as she wanted me to look around and think a little, she suggested that I should spend a few days in London if I wanted to, either on the way to Suffolk or on my way back.In a word, in the next three weeks or one month, I have the freedom to do whatever I want. In addition to requiring me to observe the things around me more and think about it as I said before, I also have to write three letters a week. Believe in the promise of a detailed report, and besides, there are no more rules to bind me.

I went to Canterbury first, to say good-bye to Agnes and Mr. Wickfield (whose house I had not yet returned to my old bedroom), and to say good-bye to Dr. Strong.Agnes was delighted to see me, and she told me that the house had changed since I left. "I think I changed myself when I left here," I said. "I felt like I had lost my right hand when I left you. But that's not quite right, because my right hand has no brain and no heart." .Everyone who knows you, Agnes, seeks your advice and accepts your guidance." "Everyone who knows me is used to me, I believe." She replied with a smile.

"No. Because you're not like the others. You're nice, good-natured, docile, and always right." "You put it that way," said Agnes, laughing cheerfully as she sewed, "it's as if I'm the old Miss Larkins." "Well! It's not fair to make fun of my confidence," I said, blushing, remembering my master in blue, "but I will still trust you in the future, Agnes. I will never No change. Whenever I'm in trouble or in love, I'll tell you, with your permission—even if I'm seriously in love." "Why, you've always been serious!" Agnes laughed again.

"Oh! I was a child, or a student," I said a little shyly, "Times are changing, and I believe that sooner or later I too will become very serious. I wonder, Agnes, that you have not yet become serious. " Agnes smiled and shook her head. "Oh! I know you haven't!" I said, "because if you were serious, you'd tell me, too, or at least," because I saw a slight blush come up on her face, "you'd let me too I can feel it. But there is no one I know who deserves to love you, Agnes. To be considered worthy to love you, Agnes, he must be better than what I see here Anyone is more noble in character and more valuable in all aspects. In the future, I will keep a close eye on those who pursue you; I will make many demands on the one who will succeed, and I will definitely do so." We talked in this kind of half-joking but serious intimacy that had grown and developed naturally out of a long-ago relationship that had begun in our childhood.But Agnes suddenly raised her eyes to meet mine, and said in a different manner: "There's something I'm going to ask you, Trowood, which I may not have a chance to ask for a long time--something I don't want to ask anyone else, I think. You see what papa has Change?" I saw the change, and often wondered if she saw it too.At this moment, it must have appeared on my face, because she immediately lowered her eyes, and I saw tears in them. "Tell me what that change is," she asked in a low voice. "I think—may I say so, Agnes? Because I love him very much." "Okay," she said. "I don't think his growing penchant has done him any good since I've come. He's often nervous—or maybe that's just my hallucination." "It's not a hallucination." Agnes shook her head. "His hands were shaking, he was slurring his speech, and his eyes looked like a madman. This is what I can see when he is most uncomfortable but he is being asked to do something. " "It was Uriah who was looking for him," Agnes said. "Yes; that sense of inadequacy, or impenetrability, or the sense of being involuntarily exposed, seemed to disturb him so much that it was worse the next day, and the day after, and so He is tired and haggard. Agnes, don't be surprised to hear me say that just the other night I saw him in this condition, with his head on the desk, weeping like a child." While I was talking, she put her hand lightly to my mouth, and immediately went to the door to meet her father, and laid her head on his shoulder.When their father and daughter looked at me at the same time, I found the expression on her face really moving.There was such a deep love for him in her beautiful expression, such a deep gratitude for all the loving care he gave; and such an ardent plea to me, even in my heart He was gentle, never the slightest bit rough, and she was so proud of him, so devoted to him, yet so affectionate and sad, and so sure that I would do the same; The words are clearer and more touching to me. We went to the Doctor's for tea.We got there at the customary hour; and we found the Doctor, his young wife, and her mother sitting together by the fire.The doctor took my leaving school very seriously, and treated me as the guest of honor as if I was going to China; he ordered a log to be enlarged in the fire, so that he could see the old student's face glowing in the firelight. "I don't intend to see many new faces after Trotwood is gone, Wakefield," said the Doctor, warming his hands. Farewell to all my youth, to a quieter life." "You've been saying that for ten years, Doctor," replied Mr. Wickfield. "This time, though, I'm going to put it into practice," said the Doctor hastily. "I'm going to be my head teacher—I'm serious at last—so you're going to arrange a contract for us soon, and treat us like two villains. They are also firmly tied together by a contract." "Take care," said Mr. Wickfield, "you don't fall for it, do you?—if it were up to you to sign any contract, you would. Why, I'm ready. When I do There are worse jobs in the business than this." "I have nothing to worry about then," said the Doctor, smiling, "only my dictionary; and this other contract—Annie." Anne sat next to Agnes at the tea table.When Mr. Wickfield's eyes turned to hers, it seemed to me that she avoided his glance so hesitantly and timidly, that his attention was drawn to her all the more, as if his thoughts were suggested by something. "There's a mail-boat coming from India, I saw," said Mr. Wickfield after a pause. "Tell me! Some letters from Mr. Jack Melton!" said the doctor. "yes!" "Poor, dear Jack!" said Mrs. Markland, shaking her head. "That tormenting climate!--they tell me, it's like living with a fire-glass on a sandy beach! He looks solid, but he isn't. My dear Doctor, drives him so valiantly to risk It's not his body, but his spirit. Anne, my dear, I'm sure you remember, your cousin was never stout, you can't be called stout, you know." Mrs. Markland looked at them all, Emphatically, "—he was weak when he and my daughter were kids, playing hand in hand all day." Anne did not answer these words. "After hearing what you say, I think, madam, that Mr. Melton is ill?" asked Mr. Wickfield. "Sick!" replied the old soldier. "My dear sir, you can tell him anything." "Except health?" said Mr. Wickfield. "Except for health, indeed!" said the old soldier. "He's had a dreadful summer heat, no doubt a dreadful case of bush fever and malaria, and every other disease you can name. As for his liver," said the old soldier resignedly. "Of course, when he went out, he ignored everything!" "Is that all he said?" asked Mr. Wickfield. "Say? My dear sir," said Mrs. Markland, shaking her head and her fan. "You're asking that, which shows that you don't know my poor Jack Melton very well. Said? He wouldn't." Say, even if you drag him with four wild horses." "Mother!" cried Mrs. Strong. "Anne, my dear," said her mother, "just this one time, I have to seriously beg you, don't interfere with me, unless you want to prove what I say. You understand as well as I do, your cousin Michael Leon would rather be towed by any number of wild horses--why did I say four! I-couldn't say four--eight, sixteen, thirty-two, not that he meant to let The doctor's plan is in vain!" "Wakefield's plan," said the Doctor, looking regretfully at his advisor, and touching his face. "That is, the plan we made for him together. I said it myself, foreign or domestic. " "As I said," said Mr. Wickfield gravely, "abroad, I arranged for him to be sent abroad. It was my duty." "Oh! Duty!" said the old soldier. "All is well arranged, my dear Mr. Wickfield; all is very kindly and well arranged, and we appreciate it. But if the dear A man can't live there, he can't live there. If he can't live there, he'd rather die there than let the doctor's plan fail. I know him," the old soldier fanned himself , said wryly, like a calm prophet, "I know he would die there and not let the doctor's plan fail." "Come, come, ma'am," said the doctor cheerfully, "I don't want to insist on my plan, I can overthrow it myself. I can make some other plans. If Mr. Jack Melton is ill Now that I’m back, I will never ask him to go abroad again, and I must find him a more suitable and luckier job in China.” Mrs. Markland was moved by this speech--I need not say that it was quite unexpected to her--and she could only tell the Doctor that it was just as he was; and she kissed her fan-bones Kiss again, and then pat the doctor's hand with the fan.After that, she scolded her daughter Annie in a low voice, because it was for Annie's sake that the former little friend got such benefits, but Annie didn't show any sign.And then she tells us a lot about other worthy members of her family who deserve support. During all this time, the daughter did not say a word, nor raised her eyes once.All this time Mr. Wickfield's eyes were fixed on Anne, who sat beside his daughter.I think he never expected that he himself was being noticed, that he was paying attention to her and his thoughts about her.Then he asked what Mr. Jack Melton had written about himself and about the recipient. "Well, here," said Mrs. Markland, taking a letter from the mantel over the Doctor's head, "the dear one said to the Doctor himself—where? Oh—'Excuse me, I must tell you , my strength is so badly crippled that I am afraid I shall have to go home for some time, as this is the only hope of recovery.' Say it plainly, poor fellow! His only hope of recovery up! However, the letter to Anne made it clearer.Anne, show me that letter. " "Wait a minute, Mom," she begged softly. "My dear, you are the most ridiculous person in the world in certain matters," her mother went on, "and perhaps the most indifferent to the rights of your mother's family. If I didn't see it myself That letter, we'll never hear of a letter. My boy, do you say you're trusting the Doctor? You astonish me. You should be more sensible." The letter was reluctantly taken out.Handed it to me first, and then to the old lady through me, I saw how the reluctant hand trembling when the letter was given to me. "Here, let's see," said Mrs. Markland, putting on her spectacles. "Where's that passage. 'Reminiscences, My Dearest Annie'—wait, not here. 'The nice old litigator' —Who is this? Why, Anne, how scribbled your cousin Melton is, and how confused I am! It's 'Doctor', of course. Oh, it's so kind!" Here she stopped, and kissed She fanned her fan, then extended it to the Doctor who was looking at us with mild satisfaction, and shook it down a few times, "Hey, I found it, 'Don't be surprised, Annie'—now that you know He has been weak, so of course he shouldn't be surprised; what did I say?—'I've suffered so much in this far country that I've decided to go away at any risk; take sick leave if I can; please Just resign without sick leave. What I have suffered here, what I am suffering and what I will suffer here is more than I can bear.' Had it not been for the encouragement of the best person," Mrs. Markland said to Mrs. Markland as before. The Doctor folded the letter after a gesture, and said, "I don't think I can bear to think about it." Though the old lady kept looking at Mr. Wickfield, as if imploring his opinion on the matter, he said nothing, but sat silently, gravely, with his eyes on the ground.Long after we had left the subject, he continued to do so; now and then he frowned; looked at the Doctor or his wife, or both at the same time, and otherwise never raised his eyes. The doctor likes music very much.Agnes sang very well, and very movingly, and so did Mrs. Strong.They sang together, and sang in two parts, and we had a nice little concert.However, I noticed two things; first, that Anne, although she soon recovered and looked quite natural, still had a distinct security between her and Mr. Wickfield; Mr. Field seemed unwilling to allow her to be near Agnes, and had been watching their movements uneasily.Now I must confess that I could not help remembering what I saw on the night Mr. Jack Melton went away, and for the first time felt that it had a special significance and was disturbed by it.The innocent beauty of her face seemed less innocent to me; the unaffected coquettishness and charm of her manner gave me less trust; thus, when I looked at Agnes beside her, , Thinking of how excellent and loyal she was, doubts arose in her heart, and she felt that Anne was not so suitable as her close friend in her boudoir. But the friendship made Anne heartily happy, and they were all happy too, for the night passed like an hour because of them.The end of that night was an accident that I remember well.They said good-bye to each other, and just when Agnes was about to embrace her and kiss her, Mr. Wickfield came up between them at that very moment, as if by accident, and quickly drew Agnes away.When I stood at the door saying goodbye to the doctor and his wife that night, seeing the expressions of the wife and the doctor at that moment, I felt almost blank. I cannot say what impression that look made on me, or how impossible it was to separate her from it when I thought of her afterwards and remembered her beauty and innocence.When I got home, I still have that look on my face.It seemed to me that when I left the doctor's house there seemed to be a dark cloud over his roof.As I saluted his gray head, I also had pity for his trust in those who betrayed him and resentment for those who had hurt him.The looming shadow of a great pain, a great shame not quite understood, fell like a blot on the place where I taught and played as a student, cruelly marring the place.Thinking of those silent and unpretentious agaves for centuries, thinking of the neat and smooth green grass, thinking of those stone urns and the 'doctor's walk', and the beautiful bell of the church hovering above all of them Sound, I don't have any fun anymore.It was as if the temple of my youth had been ransacked before my eyes, its peace and splendor lost. As soon as the morning comes, I will leave the old house full of Agnes' influence.All I think about is this parting.No doubt I shall be here again soon, and I may sleep again—perhaps often—in my old room; but the days of my dwelling there are gone.When I counted the books and clothes which lay there to be sent to Dover, I was in a heavier heart than I would have shown Uriah.Uriah Heap was so gracious in helping me clean up that I unappreciatively thought he was glad I was gone. I do not know why, leaving Agnes and her father, I got into the London coach with a kind of ostentatious fortitude and indifference, and took a seat in the box.I was so magnanimous and benevolent as I drove through the town, that I thought of nodding to my old enemy, the young butcher, and throwing him five shillings for a drink.But he looked so obstinate as he stood there scraping the big stock in the butcher's shop, and since I knocked out one of his front teeth, his character hasn't changed for the better, and I thought it best not to be with him. He got close to something. I remember now that all I could think of was to be polite to the coachman and say something extremely rude.I felt extremely uncomfortable saying those things, but I kept going because I felt like an adult would say that. "You will sit till the end, sir," asked the coachman. "Yes, William," I said, dropping my airs. I knew the driver, "I'm going to London, and I'm going to Suffolk." "Going hunting, sir?" said the coachman.He knew as well as I did that at this time of year it was as unreasonable to hunt there as it was to go whaling, but I still felt honored. "I don't know," I said, with an air of indecision, "whether I'm going to go hunting." "Birds are afraid of people, I've heard," said William. "I've heard that too," I said. "Is Suffolk your home, sir?" asked William. "Yes," I said matter-of-factly, "Suffolk is my home." "I've heard the dumplings are good in that area," William said. I hadn't heard of it before, but I felt the need to boast about the estate, and to show that I knew it well; so I shook my head in a way that seemed to say, "I believe you! " "And the horses," said William. "That's a fine animal! A Suffolk horse, when it's good, is worth as much in gold. Have you ever bred a Suffolk yourself, sir?" "No—yes," I said, "never been raised." "The one behind me, I dare say," said William, "has a lot of that stuff." The passenger the driver spoke of had a slanted eye, a cocked chin, a tall white hat with a narrow brim, and brown leggings with buttons on the outside trouser line that seemed to run from the boot to the buttocks. .His chin was so close to me that it seemed to be on the coachman's shoulder, and the back of my head was tickling from his breathing.When I turned to look at him, he looked very expertly at the lead horse pulling the cart with his straight eyes. "Have you ever raised one?" William said. "What did you raise?" the man behind asked. "Have you had a lot of Suffolk horses?" "Yes," said the man, "I keep all kinds of horses and feed all kinds of dogs. Horses and dogs are kept by some people for fun, but for me they are my bread and butter—my house, my wife, my children—the children To read, to write, to do arithmetic—I depend on them for my snuff, tobacco, and sleep!" "This isn't the man who should be sitting in the back seat of the box, is it?" William said, fiddling with the reins and whispering in my ear. I took this as a wish that the man should take my seat, so, blushing, I suggested changing seats. "Well, if you don't mind, sir," said William, "I think that's better." I have always regarded this as one of the great failures of my life.When I booked tickets at the box office, I wrote the word "box" on the ticket book and gave half a crown to the cashier.Desperate to be worthy of that pompous seat, I also put on my unusual overcoat and cloak, and I thought I was very presentable, and I thought I added a great deal to the carriage.But as soon as I set off, I was replaced by a country bumpkin with disheveled clothes and squinting eyes.And the man was nothing but stable-smelling.When the horse slowed down to let him pass me, he was not a person, but a fly! A distrust of myself--I've had it all my life about little things, especially when I shouldn't--hadn't stopped with this little thing that happened after I got out of Canterbury.I guess it's no use swearing to cover it up.Along the way, I kept speaking from my dantian, but I felt hopelessly young and hopeless. Still, it was amusing to sit on the back of four horses, well educated, well dressed, with a lot of money in my pocket, and look out of the wagon where I used to lodge on that hard journey, It feels strange.For each special place, I have a lot of thoughts.I looked down and saw the beggar passing by, and when I saw a face I knew, I felt again the black hand of the tinkerer in the front of my shirt.As our wheels rolled down the narrow streets of Chatham, I saw the alley where the old monster who bought my short coat lived, and I craned my neck eagerly to see where I was sitting in the sun and Shadow medium take your money.When at last we came to Salem's School, not a stop from London, and passing the school where Mr. Creeker beat his pupils sternly, I should have given all my money for legal leave, Get out of the car and beat him up, and then release all the students like sparrows in cages. We walked to the Golden Cross Hotel by Charles Cross, an old hotel at that time close to the densely populated area.A waiter took me into the coffee-room, and then a maid into my cubicle, which was sealed up like a family wine cellar and smelled like a cab.I am still painfully aware of my youth because no one pays me an ounce of respect—the waitresses don't care what I think on issues, the men waiters are casual with me and give advice on my innocence. "Hi," said the male waiter very affectionately, "what do you want for dinner? Most young gentlemen like to eat poultry. How about a chicken?" I told him as clearly as I could that I don't like chicken or duck or anything like that. "Don't you?" said the male waiter, "Most of the young gentlemen are tired of eating beef and mutton, so why don't you have a small loin slice?" I couldn't say anything else but agreed to the suggestion. "Do you like potatoes?" The male waiter tilted his head and said with a flattering smile. "Most young gentlemen eat too many potatoes." I ordered him in my lowest voice, and ordered a veal loin with potatoes, and all the toppings; then I begged him to look on the cabinet for a letter to Trotwood Copperfield.I know there isn't one and there never will be, but I think it's decent to look like you're waiting for a letter. He soon returned to say that there was no letter (I was taken aback by this), and spread a table-cloth for my meal on a little seat near the fire.As he did so, he asked me what I was drinking.When I heard me say "half a pint of sherry," I guessed he thought it was a good chance he'd be able to make up that amount from the bottoms of several bottles.I thought so because I was reading a newspaper and caught a glimpse of him busily pouring the contents of some vials into a bottle behind a low plank (that was his lodging), like a chemist and apothecary .When the wine was brought I found it bland, with a surprising amount of English scum for a purely foreign wine; but I drank it timidly, without saying a word. Being in a good mood (and henceforth I think that intoxication is not quite so unpleasant in its course), I decided to go to the theatre.I chose the Covent Garden Theatre, where, behind a central box, I saw Caesar and the new pantomime.It was a new and delightful sight to see those noble Romans revived before my eyes, walking about to amuse me, replacing the stern Latin order of the old schools.But the intermingling of the real and the mysterious, the poetry, the lights, the music, the spectators, the rapid and startling changes of the resplendent scenery throughout the play, fascinated and exhilarated me.When I walked out on the rainy street at twelve o'clock at night, I felt as if I had lived a romantic life in the clouds for a few years and then fell into a troubled world, full of noise and filth, where the torches lighted, the umbrellas Struggling, the carriage jostled, and clogs rattled and splashed muddy water. I came out from the other door and stood on the street for a while, as if I hadn't seen it for a long time.The rough jostling and jostling I was subjected to, however, soon sobered me up and put me on my way back to the hotel.As I walked, I recalled the glorious scene.Until one o'clock, after drinking some dark beer and eating some oysters, I was still sitting in the coffee room looking at the fire and thinking. The play occupied me, and the past has occupied me—because the play was, in a sense, a crystal ball in which I could see the development of my early life.At some point, a young figure appeared in front of my eyes. He was handsomely dressed and handsome. I really should remember this man.But I remember, knowing he was there, I didn't notice him coming in— I still remember sitting in the coffee room looking at the fire and meditating. At last, to the relief of the waiter, I got up and went to bed.His legs were already impatient, and they kept twisting, kicking, and making various awkward movements in his small pantry.As I made my way to the door, I passed the man who had entered, and saw him clearly.I immediately turned around and turned back to look at him again. He didn't recognize me, but I recognized him at a glance. If it were any other time, I might not have the courage to make up my mind to talk to him, and I might wait until the next day to do so, or miss the opportunity.But at that time, I was preoccupied by the play, his protection to me in the past seemed so worthy of gratitude, my admiration for him in the past so naturally filled my chest again, and I immediately had a heart beating so fast走向他，说道： “斯梯福兹！你不愿和我说话吗？” 他看看我，一如他有时打量人那样；我看出他那表情是认不出我的样子。 “我怕你不记得我了。”我说道。 “我的上帝！”他突然大叫道，“这是小科波菲尔！” 我握住他的双手，我不能把它们放开。要不是因为怕羞，也怕叫他不快，我非搂住他脖子大哭一场呢。 “我从来、从来、从来都没这么高兴过！我亲爱的斯梯福兹，见到你我真是非常非常高兴啊！” “我见到你也很高兴呢！”他亲热地握住我双手说，“喂，科波菲尔，大孩子，别太激动！”不过，我觉得，看到这相逢的快乐这么让我激动，他也满心欢喜。 我擦去无论我怎么努力也忍不住流下的眼泪，又为此忸怩地大笑一阵，然后我们并肩坐下。 “嘿，你怎么来到这儿的？”斯梯福兹拍拍我肩头问。 “我是今天从坎特伯雷坐车来的。我已被那儿我的一个姨奶奶领养，刚在那儿受完了教育。你怎么来这儿的呢，斯梯福兹？” “嘿，我成了他们叫的牛津人了，”他答道，“也就是说，我无时不在那里感到乏味得要命——现在，我是在去我母亲那里的途中。你真是个可爱的伙计，科波菲尔。现在，我看着你，你还是老样子！一点也没变！” “我可马上就认出了你，”我说道，“不过记起你来要容易些。” 他一面抚摸他那一簇簇的卷发，一面大笑，然后高兴地说： “是的，我是在作一种义务旅行。我母亲住在离市区不远处，可是路很糟，我们的家也很单调，所以我今晚留宿在这里，不往前赶了。我到这里还不到六个小时，都花在剧院里打瞌睡和发牢骚上了。” “我也看了戏，”我说道，“是在考文特花园。多愉快，多有声有色的一出戏呀，斯梯福兹！” 斯梯福兹又开心地大笑。 “我亲爱的小卫卫，”他又拍拍我肩说道，“你可真是一朵雏菊呀。日出时田野里的雏菊也不比你更嫩呢！我也去了考文特花园，再没比那更次的玩艺了。咳，你老弟呀！” 后面那话是对那侍者说的。那侍者本站在远处观察我们的相认，这时很巴结地走了过来。 “你把我朋友科波菲尔先生安排在哪儿？”斯梯福兹说道。 “对不起，先生？” “他睡在哪儿？几号房？你懂我说的话吗？”斯梯福兹说道。 “懂，先生，”侍者露出歉意的神色说，“科波菲尔先生现住在四十四号，先生。” “你把科波菲尔先生安顿在马厩上的那小阁楼里，”斯梯福兹质问道，“是打的什么主意？” “唉，你知道，我们不清楚呀，先生，”侍者更诚惶诚恐地答道，“因为科波菲尔先生反正不挑剔。我们可以让科波菲尔先生住七十二号，先生，如果你满意。就在你隔壁，先生。” “当然满意，”斯梯福兹说道，“快去安排吧。” 侍者忙去换房间。斯梯福兹因为我曾被安排在四十四号觉得好笑，就又笑了起来，拍着我肩头，他还请我明天早上十点钟和他一起用早餐。这更让我感到受宠若惊也十分乐于接受的邀请。当时已不早了，我们拿了蜡烛上楼，在他的房门前友好地分手。我发现我的新卧室比先前的好多了，一点怪味也没有，放有一张四柱大床，简直是一片圣地了。在这床上，在够六个人用的枕头中，我很快就怀着愉快的心情入睡了，我梦见了古罗马，斯梯福兹，还有友谊，直到清早，窗下门外驶过的马车使我梦到了雷公和众神，这才醒来。