practise； I must do something。 So I told papa last night I must
come out。 Besides； it’s the brightest time of the whole day。 Don’t
you think so？’
I hazarded a bold flight； and said （not without stammering） that
it was very bright to me then； though it had been very dark to me a
minute before。
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‘Do you mean a compliment？’ said Dora； ‘or that the weather
has really changed？’
I stammered worse than before； in replying that I meant no
compliment； but the plain truth； though I was not aware of any
change having taken place in the weather。 It was in the state of my
own feelings； I added bashfully： to clench the explanation。
I never saw such curls—how could I； for there never were such
curls！—as those she shook out to hide her blushes。 As to the straw
hat and blue ribbons which was on the top of the curls； if I could
only have hung it up in my room in Buckingham Street； what a
priceless possession it would have been！
‘You have just come home from Paris；’ said I。
‘Yes；’ said she。 ‘Have you ever been there？’
‘No。’
‘Oh！ I hope you’ll go soon！ You would like it so much！’
Traces of deep…seated anguish appeared in my countenance。
That she should hope I would go； that she should think it possible
I could go； was insupportable。 I depreciated Paris； I depreciated
France。 I said I wouldn’t leave England； under existing
circumstances； for any earthly consideration。 Nothing should
induce me。 In short； she was shaking the curls again； when the
little dog came running along the walk to our relief。
He was mortally jealous of me； and persisted in barking at me。
She took him up in her arms—oh my goodness！—and caressed
him； but he persisted upon barking still。 He wouldn’t let me touch
him； when I tried； and then she beat him。 It increased my
sufferings greatly to see the pats she gave him for punishment on
the bridge of his blunt nose； while he winked his eyes； and licked
her hand； and still growled within himself like a little double…bass。
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At length he was quiet—well he might be with her dimpled chin
upon his head！—and we walked away to look at a greenhouse。
‘You are not very intimate with Miss Murdstone； are you？’ said
Dora。— ‘My pet。’
（The two last words were to the dog。 Oh； if they had only been
to me！）
‘No；’ I replied。 ‘Not at all so。’
‘She is a tiresome creature；’ said Dora； pouting。 ‘I can’t think
what papa can have been about； when he chose such a vexatious
thing to be my companion。 Who wants a protector？ I am sure I
don’t want a protector。 Jip can protect me a great deal better than
Miss Murdstone；—can’t you； Jip； dear？’
He only winked lazily； when she kissed his ball of a head。
‘Papa calls her my confidential friend； but I am sure she is no
such thing—is she； Jip？ We are not going to confide in any such
cross people； Jip and I。 We mean to bestow our confidence where
we like； and to find out our own friends； instead of having them
found out for us—don’t we； Jip？’
jip made a comfortable noise； in answer； a little like a tea…kettle
when it sings。 As for me； every word was a new heap of fetters；
riveted above the last。
‘It is very hard； because we have not a kind Mama； that we are
to have； instead； a sulky； gloomy old thing like Miss Murdstone；
always following us about—isn’t it； Jip？ Never mind； Jip。 We won’t
be confidential； and we’ll make ourselves as happy as we can in
spite of her； and we’ll tease her； and not please her—won’t we；
Jip？’
If it had lasted any longer； I think I must have gone down on my
knees on the gravel； with the probability before me of grazing
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them； and of being presently ejected from the premises besides。
But； by good fortune the greenhouse was not far off； and these
words brought us to it。
It contained quite a show of beautiful geraniums。 We loitered
along in front of them； and Dora often stopped to admire this one
or that one； and I stopped to admire the same one； and Dora；
laughing； held the dog up childishly； to smell the flowers； and if we
were not all three in Fairyland； certainly I was。 The scent of a
geranium leaf； at this day； strikes me with a half comical half
serious wonder as to what change has come over me in a moment；
and then I see a straw hat and blue ribbons； and a quantity of
curls； and a little black dog being held up； in two slender arms；
against a bank of blossoms and bright leaves。
Miss Murdstone had been looking for us。 She found us here；
and presented her uncongenial cheek； the little wrinkles in it filled
with hair powder； to Dora to be kissed。 Then she took Dora’s arm
in hers； and marched us into breakfast as if it were a soldier’s
funeral。
How many cups of tea I drank； because Dora made it； I don’t
know。 But； I perfectly remember that I sat swilling tea until my
whole nervous system； if I had had any in those days； must have
gone by the board。 By and by we went to church。 Miss Murdstone
was between Dora and me in the pew； but I heard her sing； and
the congregation vanished。 A sermon was delivered—about Dora；
of course—and I am afraid that is all I know of the service。
We had a quiet day。 No company； a walk； a family dinner of
four； and an evening of looking over books and pictures； Miss
Murdstone with a homily before her； and her eye upon us； keeping
guard vigilantly。 Ah！ little did Mr。 Spenlow imagine； when he sat
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opposite to me after dinner that day； with his pocket…handkerchief
over his head； how fervently I was embracing him； in my fancy； as
his son…in…law！ Little did he think； when I took leave of him at
night； that he had just given his full consent to my being engaged
to Dora； and that I was invoking blessings on his head！
We departed early in the morning； for we had a Salvage case
coming on in the Admiralty Court； requiring a rather accurate
knowledge of the whole science of navigation； in which （as we
couldn’t be expected to know much about those matters in the
Commons） the judge had entreated two old Trinity Masters； for
charity’s sake； to come and help him out。 Dora was at the
breakfast…table to make the tea again； however； and I had the
melancholy pleasure of taking off my hat to her in the phaeton； as
she stood on the door…step with Jip in her arms。
What the Admiralty was to me that day； what nonsense I made
of our case in my mind； as I listened to it； how I saw ‘DORA’
engraved upon the blade of the silver oar which they lay upon the
table； as the emblem of that high jurisdiction； and how I felt when
Mr。 Spenlow went home without me （I had had an insane hope
that he might take me back again）； as if I were a mariner myself；
and the ship to which I belonged had sailed away and left me on a
desert island； I shall make no fruitless effort to describe。 If that
sleepy old court could rouse itself； and present in any visible form
the daydreams I have had in it about Dora； it would reveal my
truth。
I don’t mean the dreams that I dreamed on that day alone； but
day after day； from week to week； and term to term。 I went there；
not to attend to what was going on； but to think about Dora。 If ever
I bestowed a thought upon the cases； as they dragged their slow
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length before me； it was only to wonder； in the matrimonial cases
（remembering Dora）； how it was that married people could ever be
otherwise than happy； and； in the Prerogative cases； to consider； if
the money in question had been left to me； what were the foremost
steps I should immediately have taken in regard to Dora。 Within
the first week of my passion； I bought four sumptuous
waistcoats—not for myself； I had no pride in them； for Dora—and
took to wearing straw…coloured kid gloves in the streets； and laid
the foundations of all the corns I have ever had。 If the boots I wore
at that period could only be produced and compared with the
natural size of my feet； they would show what the state of my heart
was； in a most affecting manner。
And yet； wretched cripple as I made myself by this act of
homage to Dora； I walked miles upon miles daily in the hope of
seeing her。 Not only was I soon as well known on the Norwood
Road as the postmen on that beat； but I pervaded London
likewise。 I walked about the streets where the best shops for ladies
were； I haunted the Bazaar like an unquiet spirit； I fagged through
the Park again and again； long after I was quite knocked up。
Sometimes； at long intervals and on rare occasions； I saw her。
Perhaps I saw her glove waved in a carriage window； perhaps I
met her； walked with her and Miss Murdstone a little way； and
spoke to her。 In the latter case I was always very miserable
afterwards； to think that I had said nothing to the purpose； or that
she had no idea of the extent of my devotion； or that she cared
nothing about me。 I was always looking out； as may be supposed；
for another invitation to Mr。 Spenlow’s house。 I was always being
disappointed； for I got none。
Mrs。 Crupp must have been a woman of penetration； for when
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this attachment was but a few weeks old； and I had not had the
courage to write more explicitly even to Agnes； than that I had
been to Mr。 Spenlow’s house； ‘whose family；’ I added； ‘consists of
one daughter’；—I say Mrs。 Crupp must have been a woman of
penetration； for； even in that early stage； she found it out。 She
came up to me one evening； when I was very low； to ask （she being
then afflicted with the disorder I have mentioned） if I could oblige
her with a little tincture of cardamums mixed with rhubarb； and
flavoured with seven drops of the essence of cloves； which was the
best remedy for her complaint；—or； if I had not such a thing by
me； with a little brandy； which was the ne