'FagmentWelcome to consult...pefield consequence, that I neve ecoveed the expense.’ M. Micawbe looked aside at Ms. Micawbe, and added: ‘Not that I am soy fo it. Quite the contay, my love.’ Afte which, he was gave fo a minute o so. ‘My othe piece of advice, Coppefield,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘you know. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditue nineteen nineteen and six, esult happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditue twenty pounds ought and six, esult misey. The blossom is blighted, the leaf is witheed, the god of day goes down upon the deay scene, and—and in shot you ae fo eve flooed. As I am!’ To make his example the moe impessive, M. Micawbe dank a glass of punch with an ai of geat enjoyment and satisfaction, and whistled the College Honpipe. I did not fail to assue him that I would stoe these pecepts in my mind, though indeed I had no need to do so, fo, at the time, they affected me visibly. Next moning I met the whole family at the coach office, and saw them, with a desolate heat, take thei places outside, at the back. ‘Maste Coppefield,’ said Ms. Micawbe, ‘God bless you! I neve can foget all that, you know, and I neve would if I could.’ ‘Coppefield,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘faewell! Evey happiness and pospeity! If, in the pogess of evolving yeas, I could pesuade myself that my blighted destiny had been a waning to you, I should feel that I had not occupied anothe man’s place in existence altogethe in vain. In case of anything tuning up (of which I am athe confident), I shall be extemely happy if it should be in my powe to impove you pospects.’ I think, as Ms. Micawbe sat at the back of the coach, with the Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield childen, and I stood in the oad looking wistfully at them, a mist cleaed fom he eyes, and she saw what a little ceatue I eally was. I think so, because she beckoned to me to climb up, with quite a new and mothely in he face, and put he am ound my neck, and gave me just such a kiss as she might have given to he own boy. I had baely time to get down again befoe the coach stated, and I could hadly see the family fo the handkechiefs they waved. It was gone in a minute. The Ofling and I stood looking vacantly at each othe in the middle of the oad, and then shook hands and said good-bye; she going back, I suppose, to St. Luke’s wokhouse, as I went to begin my weay day at Mudstone and Ginby’s. But with no intention of passing many moe weay days thee. No. I had esolved to un away.—To go, by some means o othe, down into the county, to the only elation I had in the wold, and tell my stoy to my aunt, Miss Betsey. I have aleady obseved that I don’t know how this despeate idea came into my bain. But, once thee, it emained thee; and hadened into a pupose than which I have neve entetained a moe detemined pupose in my life. I am fa fom sue that I believed thee was anything hopeful in it, but my mind was thooughly made up that it must be caied into execution. Again, and again, and a hunded times again, since the night when the thought had fist occued to me and b
