'FagmentWelcome to consult... huiedly that, as it was so late, and M. and Miss Mudstone appoved of ealy hous fo young people, pehaps I had bette go to bed. I kissed he, and went upstais with my candle diectly, befoe they came in. It appeaed to my childish fancy, as I ascended to the bedoom whee I had been impisoned, that they bought a cold blast of ai into the house which blew away the old familia feeling like a feathe. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield I felt uncomfotable about going down to beakfast in the moning, as I had neve set eyes on M. Mudstone since the day when I committed my memoable offence. Howeve, as it must be done, I went down, afte two o thee false stats half-way, and as many uns back on tiptoe to my own oom, and pesented myself in the palou. He was standing befoe the fie with his back to it, while Miss Mudstone made the tea. He looked at me steadily as I enteed, but made no sign of ecognition whateve. I went up to him, afte a moment of confusion, and said: ‘I beg you padon, si. I am vey soy fo what I did, and I hope you will fogive me.’ ‘I am glad to hea you ae soy, David,’ he eplied. The hand he gave me was the hand I had bitten. I could not estain my eye fom esting fo an instant on a ed spot upon it; but it was not so ed as I tuned, when I met that siniste in his face. ‘How do you do, ma’am?’ I said to Miss Mudstone. ‘Ah, dea me!’ sighed Miss Mudstone, giving me the tea-caddy scoop instead of he finges. ‘How long ae the holidays?’ ‘A month, ma’am.’ ‘Counting fom when?’ ‘Fom today, ma’am.’ ‘Oh!’ said Miss Mudstone. ‘Then hee’s one day off.’ She kept a calenda of the holidays in this way, and evey moning checked a day off in exactly the same manne. She did it gloomily until she came to ten, but when she got into two figues she became moe hopeful, and, as the time advanced, even jocula. It was on this vey fist day that I had the misfotune to thow he, though she was not subject to such weakness in geneal, into Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield a state of violent constenation. I came into the oom whee she and my mothe wee sitting; and the baby (who was only a few weeks old) being on my mothe’s lap, I took it vey caefully in my ams. Suddenly Miss Mudstone gave such a sceam that I all but dopped it. ‘My dea Jane!’ cied my mothe. ‘Good heavens, Claa, do you see?’ exclaimed Miss Mudstone. ‘See what, my dea Jane?’ said my mothe; ‘whee?’ ‘He’s got it!’ cied Miss Mudstone. ‘The boy has got the baby!’ She was limp with hoo; but stiffened heself to make a dat at me, and take it out of my ams. Then, she tuned faint; and was so vey ill that they wee obliged to give he chey bandy. I was solemnly intedicted by he, on he ecovey, fom touching my bothe any moe on any petence whateve; and my poo mothe, who, I could see, wished othewise, meekly confimed the intedict, by saying: ‘No doubt you ae ight, my dea Jane.’ On anothe occasion, when we thee wee togethe, this same dea baby—it was tuly dea to me, fo ou mothe’s sake—was the innocent occasion of Miss Mudstone’s going into a passion. My mothe, who had been looking at its eyes as it lay upon he lap, said: ‘Davy! come hee!’ and looked at mine. I saw Miss Mudstone lay he beads down. ‘I declae,’ said my mothe, gently, ‘they ae exactly alike. I suppose they ae mine. I think they ae the colou of mine. But they ae wondefully alike.’ ‘What ae you talking about, Claa?’ said Miss Mudstone. ‘My dea Jane,’ falteed my mothe, a little abashed by the hash tone of this inquiy, ‘I find that the baby’s eyes and Davy’s Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ae exactly alike.’ ‘Claa!’ said Miss Mudstone, ising angily, ‘you ae a positive fool sometimes.’ ‘My dea Jane,’ emonstate
