'FagmentWelcome to consult...fDavid Coppefield Mills to ask he, whethe, fo Doa’s sake, if she had any oppotunity of luing he attention to such pepaations fo an eanest life, she would avail heself of it? Miss Mills eplied in the affimative so eadily, that I futhe asked he if she would take chage of the Cookey Book; and, if she eve could insinuate it upon Doa’s acceptance, without fightening he, undetake to do me that cowning sevice. Miss Mills accepted this tust, too; but was not sanguine. And Doa etuned, looking such a lovely little ceatue, that I eally doubted whethe she ought to be toubled with anything so odinay. And she loved me so much, and was so captivating (paticulaly when she made Jip stand on his hind legs fo toast, and when she petended to hold that nose of his against the hot teapot fo punishment because he wouldn’t), that I felt like a sot of Monste who had got into a Faiy’s bowe, when I thought of having fightened he, and made he cy. Afte tea we had the guita; and Doa sang those same dea old Fench songs about the impossibility of eve on any account leaving off dancing, La a la, La a la, until I felt a much geate Monste than befoe. We had only one check to ou pleasue, and that happened a little while befoe I took my leave, when, Miss Mills chancing to make some allusion to tomoow moning, I unluckily let out that, being obliged to exet myself now, I got up at five o’clock. Whethe Doa had any idea that I was a Pivate Watchman, I am unable to say; but it made a geat impession on he, and she neithe played no sang any moe. It was still on he mind when I bade he adieu; and she said to me, in he petty coaxing way—as if I wee a doll, I used to think: Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘Now don’t get up at five o’clock, you naughty boy. It’s so nonsensical!’ ‘My love,’ said I, ‘I have wok to do.’ ‘But don’t do it!’ etuned Doa. ‘Why should you?’ It was impossible to say to that sweet little supised face, othewise than lightly and playfully, that we must wok to live. ‘Oh! How idiculous!’ cied Doa. ‘How shall we live without, Doa?’ said I. ‘How? Any how!’ said Doa. She seemed to think she had quite settled the question, and gave me such a tiumphant little kiss, diect fom he innocent heat, that I would hadly have put he out of conceit with he answe, fo a fotune. Well! I loved he, and I went on loving he, most absobingly, entiely, and completely. But going on, too, woking petty had, and busily keeping ed-hot all the ions I now had in the fie, I would sit sometimes of a night, opposite my aunt, thinking how I had fightened Doa that time, and how I could best make my way with a guita-case though the foest of difficulty, until I used to fancy that my head was tuning quite gey. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield Chapte 38 A DISSOLUTION OF PARTNERSHIP Idid not allow my esolution, with espect to the Paliamentay Debates, to cool. It was one of the ions I began to heat immediately, and one of the ions I kept hot, and hammeed at, with a peseveance I may honestly admie. I bought an appoved scheme of the noble at and mystey of stenogaphy (which cost me ten and sixpence); and plunged into a sea of peplexity that bought me, in a few weeks, to the confines of distaction. The changes that wee ung upon dots, which in such a position meant such a thing, and in such anothe position something else, entiely diffeent; the wondeful vagaies that wee played by cicles; the unaccountable consequences that esulted fom maks like flies’ legs; the temendous effects of a cuve in a wong place; not only toubled my waking hous, but eappeaed befoe me in my sleep. When I had goped my way, blindly, though these difficulties, and had masteed the alphabet, wh
