My　answering　in　the　affirmative　gave　him　great　satisfaction。
  ‘I　believe　my　breath　will　get　long　next；　my　memory’s　getting　so
  much　so；’　said　Mr。　Omer。　‘Well；　sir；　we’ve　got　a　young　relation　of
  hers　here；　under　articles　to　us；　that　has　as　elegant　a　taste　in　the
  dress…making　business—I　assure　you　I　don’t　believe　there’s　a
  Duchess　in　England　can　touch　her。’
  ‘Not　little　Em’ly？’　said　I；　involuntarily。
  ‘Em’ly’s　her　name；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　‘and　she’s　little　too。　But　if
  you’ll　believe　me；　she　has　such　a　face　of　her　own　that　half　the
  women　in　this　town　are　mad　against　her。’
  ‘Nonsense；　father！’　cried　Minnie。
  ‘My　dear；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　‘I　don’t　say　it’s　the　case　with　you；’
  winking　at　me；　‘but　I　say　that　half　the　women　in　Yarmouth—ah！
  and　in　five　mile　round—are　mad　against　that　girl。’
  ‘Then　she　should　have　kept　to　her　own　station　in　life；　father；’
  said　Minnie；　‘and　not　have　given　them　any　hold　to　talk　about　her；
  and　then　they　couldn’t　have　done　it。’
  ‘Couldn’t　have　done　it；　my　dear！’　retorted　Mr。　Omer。　‘Couldn’t
  have　done　it！　Is　that　your　knowledge　of　life？　What　is　there　that　any
  woman　couldn’t　do；　that　she　shouldn’t　do—especially　on　the
  subject　of　another　woman’s　good　looks？’
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  I　really　thought　it　was　all　over　with　Mr。　Omer；　after　he　had
  uttered　this　libellous　pleasantry。　He　coughed　to　that　extent；　and
  his　breath　eluded　all　his　attempts　to　recover　it　with　that　obstinacy；
  that　I　fully　expected　to　see　his　head　go　down　behind　the　counter；
  and　his　little　black　breeches；　with　the　rusty　little　bunches　of
  ribbons　at　the　knees；　come　quivering　up　in　a　last　ineffectual
  struggle。　At　length；　however；　he　got　better；　though　he　still　panted
  hard；　and　was　so　exhausted　that　he　was　obliged　to　sit　on　the　stool
  of　the　shop…desk。
  ‘You　see；’　he　said；　wiping　his　head；　and　breathing　with
  difficulty；　‘she　hasn’t　taken　much　to　any　companions　here；　she
  hasn’t　taken　kindly　to　any　particular　acquaintances　and　friends；
  not　to　mention　sweethearts。　In　consequence；　an　ill…natured　story
  got　about；　that　Em’ly　wanted　to　be　a　lady。　Now　my　opinion　is；　that
  it　came　into　circulation　principally　on　account　of　her　sometimes
  saying；　at　the　school；　that　if　she　was　a　lady　she　would　like　to　do　so…
  and…so　for　her　uncle—don’t　you　see？—and　buy　him　such…and…such
  fine　things。’
  ‘I　assure　you；　Mr。　Omer；　she　has　said　so　to　me；’　I　returned
  eagerly；　‘when　we　were　both　children。’
  Mr。　Omer　nodded　his　head　and　rubbed　his　chin。　‘Just　so。　Then
  out　of　a　very　little；　she　could　dress　herself；　you　see；　better　than
  most　others　could　out　of　a　deal；　and　that　made　things　unpleasant。
  Moreover；　she　was　rather　what　might　be　called　wayward—I’ll　go
  so　far　as　to　say　what　I　should　call　wayward　myself；’　said　Mr。　Omer；
  ‘—didn’t　know　her　own　mind　quite—a　little　spoiled—and　couldn’t；
  at　first；　exactly　bind　herself　down。　No　more　than　that　was　ever
  said　against　her；　Minnie？’
  ‘No；　father；’　said　Mrs。　Joram。　‘That’s　the　worst；　I　believe。’
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  ‘So　when　she　got　a　situation；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　‘to　keep　a
  fractious　old　lady　company；　they　didn’t　very　well　agree；　and　she
  didn’t　stop。　At　last　she　came　here；　apprenticed　for　three　years。
  Nearly　two　of　’em　are　over；　and　she　has　been　as　good　a　girl　as　ever
  was。　Worth　any　six！　Minnie；　is　she　worth　any　six；　now？’
  ‘Yes；　father；’　replied　Minnie。　‘Never　say　I　detracted　from　her！’
  ‘Very　good；’　said　Mr。　Omer。　‘That’s　right。　And　so；　young
  gentleman；’　he　added；　after　a　few　moments’　further　rubbing　of　his
  chin；　‘that　you　may　not　consider　me　long…winded　as　well　as　short…
  breathed；　I　believe　that’s　all　about　it。’
  As　they　had　spoken　in　a　subdued　tone；　while　speaking　of　Em’ly；
  I　had　no　doubt　that　she　was　near。　On　my　asking　now；　if　that　were
  not　so；　Mr。　Omer　nodded　yes；　and　nodded　towards　the　door　of　the
  parlour。　My　hurried　inquiry　if　I　might　peep　in；　was　answered　with
  a　free　permission；　and；　looking　through　the　glass；　I　saw　her　sitting
  at　her　work。　I　saw　her；　a　most　beautiful　little　creature；　with　the
  cloudless　blue　eyes；　that　had　looked　into　my　childish　heart；　turned
  laughingly　upon　another　child　of　Minnie’s　who　was　playing　near
  her；　with　enough　of　wilfulness　in　her　bright　face　to　justify　what　I
  had　heard；　with　much　of　the　old　capricious　coyness　lurking　in　it；
  but　with　nothing　in　her　pretty　looks；　I　am　sure；　but　what　was
  meant　for　goodness　and　for　happiness；　and　what　was　on　a　good
  and　happy　course。
  The　tune　across　the　yard　that　seemed　as　if　it　never　had　left　off—
  alas！　it　was　the　tune　that　never　does　leave　off—was　beating；　softly；
  all　the　while。
  ‘Wouldn’t　you　like　to　step　in；’　said　Mr。　Omer；　‘and　speak　to　her？
  Walk　in　and　speak　to　her；　sir！　Make　yourself　at　home！’
  I　was　too　bashful　to　do　so　then—I　was　afraid　of　confusing　her；
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  and　I　was　no　less　afraid　of　confusing　myself。—but　I　informed
  myself　of　the　hour　at　which　she　left　of　an　evening；　in　order　that　our
  visit　might　be　timed　accordingly；　and　taking　leave　of　Mr。　Omer；
  and　his　pretty　daughter；　and　her　little　children；　went　away　to　my
  dear　old　Peggotty’s。
  Here　she　was；　in　the　tiled　kitchen；　cooking　dinner！　The　moment
  I　knocked　at　the　door　she　opened　it；　and　asked　me　what　I　pleased
  to　want。　I　looked　at　her　with　a　smile；　but　she　gave　me　no　smile　in
  return。　I　had　never　ceased　to　write　to　her；　but　it　must　have　been
  seven　years　since　we　had　met。
  ‘Is　Mr。　Barkis　at　home；　ma’am？’　I　said；　feigning　to　speak
  roughly　to　her。
  ‘He’s　at　home；　sir；’　returned　Peggotty；　‘but　he’s　bad　abed　with
  the　rheumatics。’
  ‘Don’t　he　go　over　to　Blunderstone　now？’　I　asked。
  ‘When　he’s　well　he　do；’　she　answered。
  ‘Do　you　ever　go　there；　Mrs。　Barkis？’
  She　looked　at　me　more　attentively；　and　I　noticed　a　quick
  movement　of　her　hands　towards　each　other。
  ‘Because　I　want　to　ask　a　question　about　a　house　there；　that　they
  call　the—what　is　it？—the　Rookery；’　said　I。
  She　took　a　step　backward；　and　put　out　her　hands　in　an
  undecided　frightened　way；　as　if　to　keep　me　off。
  ‘Peggotty！’　I　cried　to　her。
  She　cried；　‘My　darling　boy！’　and　we　both　burst　into　tears；　and
  were　locked　in　one　another’s　arms。
  What　extravagances　she　committed；　what　laughing　and　crying
  over　me；　what　pride　she　showed；　what　joy；　what　sorrow　that　she
  whose　pride　and　joy　I　might　have　been；　could　never　hold　me　in　a
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  fond　embrace；　I　have　not　the　heart　to　tell。　I　was　troubled　with　no
  misgiving　that　it　was　young　in　me　to　respond　to　her　emotions。　I
  had　never　laughed　and　cried　in　all　my　life；　I　dare　say—not　even　to
  her—more　freely　than　I　did　that　morning。
  ‘Barkis　will　be　so　glad；’　said　Peggotty；　wiping　her　eyes　with　her
  apron；　‘that　it’ll　do　him　more　good　than　pints　of　liniment。　May　I　go
  and　tell　him　you　are　here？　Will　you　come　up　and　see　him；　my
  dear？’
  Of　course　I　would。　But　Peggotty　could　not　get　out　of　the　room
  as　easily　as　she　meant　to；　for　as　often　as　she　got　to　the　door　and
  looked　round　at　me；　she　came　back　again　to　have　another　laugh
  and　another　cry　upon　my　shoulder。　At　last；　to　make　the　matter
  easier；　I　went　upstairs　with　her；　and　having　waited　outside　for　a
  minute；　while　she　said　a　word　of　preparation　to　Mr。　Barkis；
  presented　myself　before　that　invalid。
  He　received　me　with　absolute　enthusiasm。　He　was　too
  rheumatic　to　be　shaken　hands　with；　but　he　begged　me　to　shake　the
  tassel　on　the　top　of　his　nightcap；　which　I　did　most　cordially。　When
  I　sat　down　by　the　side　of　the　bed；　he　said　that　it　did　him　a　world　of
  good　to　feel　as　if　he　was　driving　me　on　the　Blunderstone　road
  again。　As　he　lay　in　bed；　face　upward；　and　so　covered；　with　that
  exception；　that　he　seemed　to　be　nothing　but　a　face—like　a
  conventional　cherubim—he　looked　the　queerest　object　I　ever
  beheld。
  ‘What　name　was　it；　as　I　wrote　up　in　the　cart；　sir？’　said　Mr。
  Barkis；　with　a　slow　rheumatic　smile。
  ‘Ah！　Mr。　Barkis；　we　had　some　grave　talks　about　that　matter；
  hadn’t　we？’
  ‘I　was　willin’　a　long　time；　sir？’　said　Mr。　Barkis。
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  ‘A　long　time；’　said　I。
  ‘And　I　don’t　regret　it；’　said　Mr。　Barkis。　‘Do　you　remember　what
  you　told　me　once；　about　her　making　all　the　apple　parsties　and
  doing　all　the　cooking？’
  ‘Yes；　very　well；’　I　returned。
  ‘It　was　as　true；’　said　Mr。　Barkis；　‘as　turnips　is。　It　was　as　true；’
  said　Mr。　Barkis；　nodding　his　nightcap；　which　was　his　only　means
  of　emphasis；　‘as　taxes　is。　And　nothing’s　truer　than　them。’
  Mr。　Barkis　turned　his　eyes　upon　me；　as　if　for　my　assent　to　this
  result　of　his　reflections　in　bed；　and　I　gave　it。
  ‘Nothing’s　truer　than　them；’　repeated　Mr。　Barkis；　‘a　man　as
  poor　as　I　am；　finds　that　out　in　his　mind　when　he’s　laid　up。　I’m　a
  very　poor　man；　sir！’
  ‘I　am　sorry　to　hear　it；　Mr。　Barkis。’
  ‘A　very　poor　man；　indeed　I　am；’　said　Mr。　Barki