yielded　to　my　self…reproach　and　shame；　and—in　short；　made　a　fool
  of　myself。　I　cannot　deny　that　I　shed　tears。　To　this　hour　I　am
  undecided　whether　it　was　upon　the　whole　the　wisest　thing　I　could
  have　done；　or　the　most　ridiculous。
  ‘If　it　had　been　anyone　but　you；　Agnes；’　said　I；　turning　away　my
  head；　‘I　should　not　have　minded　it　half　so　much。　But　that　it　should
  have　been　you　who　saw　me！　I　almost　wish　I　had　been　dead；　first。’
  She　put　her　hand—its　touch　was　like　no　other　hand—upon　my
  arm　for　a　moment；　and　I　felt　so　befriended　and　comforted；　that　I
  could　not　help　moving　it　to　my　lips；　and　gratefully　kissing　it。
  ‘Sit　down；’　said　Agnes；　cheerfully。　‘Don’t　be　unhappy；
  Trotwood。　If　you　cannot　confidently　trust　me；　whom　will　you
  trust？’
  ‘Ah；　Agnes！’　I　returned。　‘You　are　my　good　Angel！’
  She　smiled　rather　sadly；　I　thought；　and　shook　her　head。
  ‘Yes；　Agnes；　my　good　Angel！　Always　my　good　Angel！’
  ‘If　I　were；　indeed；　Trotwood；’　she　returned；　‘there　is　one　thing
  that　I　should　set　my　heart　on　very　much。’
  I　looked　at　her　inquiringly；　but　already　with　a　foreknowledge　of
  her　meaning。
  ‘On　warning　you；’　said　Agnes；　with　a　steady　glance；　‘against
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  your　bad　Angel。’
  ‘My　dear　Agnes；’　I　began；　‘if　you　mean　Steerforth—’
  ‘I　do；　Trotwood；’　she　returned。　‘Then；　Agnes；　you　wrong　him
  very　much。　He　my　bad　Angel；　or　anyone’s！　He；　anything　but　a
  guide；　a　support；　and　a　friend　to　me！　My　dear　Agnes！　Now；　is　it　not
  unjust；　and　unlike　you；　to　judge　him　from　what　you　saw　of　me　the
  other　night？’
  ‘I　do　not　judge　him　from　what　I　saw　of　you　the　other　night；’　she
  quietly　replied。
  ‘From　what；　then？’
  ‘From　many　things—trifles　in　themselves；　but　they　do　not　seem
  to　me　to　be　so；　when　they　are　put　together。　I　judge　him；　partly
  from　your　account　of　him；　Trotwood；　and　your　character；　and　the
  influence　he　has　over　you。’
  There　was　always　something　in　her　modest　voice　that　seemed
  to　touch　a　chord　within　me；　answering　to　that　sound　alone。　It　was
  always　earnest；　but　when　it　was　very　earnest；　as　it　was　now；　there
  was　a　thrill　in　it　that　quite　subdued　me。　I　sat　looking　at　her　as　she
  cast　her　eyes　down　on　her　work；　I　sat　seeming　still　to　listen　to　her；
  and　Steerforth；　in　spite　of　all　my　attachment　to　him；　darkened　in
  that　tone。
  ‘It　is　very　bold　in　me；’　said　Agnes；　looking　up　again；　‘who　have
  lived　in　such　seclusion；　and　can　know　so　little　of　the　world；　to　give
  you　my　advice　so　confidently；　or　even　to　have　this　strong　opinion。
  But　I　know　in　what　it　is　engendered；　Trotwood；—in　how　true　a
  remembrance　of　our　having　grown　up　together；　and　in　how　true
  an　interest　in　all　relating　to　you。　It　is　that　which　makes　me　bold。　I
  am　certain　that　what　I　say　is　right。　I　am　quite　sure　it　is。　I　feel　as　if　it
  were　someone　else　speaking　to　you；　and　not　I；　when　I　caution　you
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  that　you　have　made　a　dangerous　friend。’
  Again　I　looked　at　her；　again　I　listened　to　her　after　she　was
  silent；　and　again　his　image；　though　it　was　still　fixed　in　my　heart；
  darkened。
  ‘I　am　not　so　unreasonable　as　to　expect；’　said　Agnes；　resuming
  her　usual　tone；　after　a　little　while；　‘that　you　will；　or　that　you　can；　at
  once；　change　any　sentiment　that　has　become　a　conviction　to　you；
  least　of　all　a　sentiment　that　is　rooted　in　your　trusting　disposition。
  You　ought　not　hastily　to　do　that。　I　only　ask　you；　Trotwood；　if　you
  ever　think　of　me—I　mean；’　with　a　quiet　smile；　for　I　was　going　to
  interrupt　her；　and　she　knew　why；　‘as　often　as　you　think　of　me—to
  think　of　what　I　have　said。　Do　you　forgive　me　for　all　this？’
  ‘I　will　forgive　you；　Agnes；’　I　replied；　‘when　you　come　to　do
  Steerforth　justice；　and　to　like　him　as　well　as　I　do。’
  ‘Not　until　then？’　said　Agnes。
  I　saw　a　passing　shadow　on　her　face　when　I　made　this　mention
  of　him；　but　she　returned　my　smile；　and　we　were　again　as
  unreserved　in　our　mutual　confidence　as　of　old。
  ‘And　when；　Agnes；’　said　I；　‘will　you　forgive　me　the　other　night？’
  ‘When　I　recall　it；’　said　Agnes。
  She　would　have　dismissed　the　subject　so；　but　I　was　too　full　of　it
  to　allow　that；　and　insisted　on　telling　her　how　it　happened　that　I
  had　disgraced　myself；　and　what　chain　of　accidental　circumstances
  had　had　the　theatre　for　its　final　link。　It　was　a　great　relief　to　me　to
  do　this；　and　to　enlarge　on　the　obligation　that　I　owed　to　Steerforth
  for　his　care　of　me　when　I　was　unable　to　take　care　of　myself。
  ‘You　must　not　forget；’　said　Agnes；　calmly　changing　the
  conversation　as　soon　as　I　had　concluded；　‘that　you　are　always　to
  tell　me；　not　only　when　you　fall　into　trouble；　but　when　you　fall　in
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  love。　Who　has　succeeded　to　Miss　Larkins；　Trotwood？’
  ‘No　one；　Agnes。’
  ‘Someone；　Trotwood；’　said　Agnes；　laughing；　and　holding　up　her
  finger。
  ‘No；　Agnes；　upon　my　word！　There　is　a　lady；　certainly；　at　Mrs。
  Steerforth’s　house；　who　is　very　clever；　and　whom　I　like　to　talk　to—
  Miss　Dartle—but　I　don’t　adore　her。’
  Agnes　laughed　again　at　her　own　penetration；　and　told　me　that　if
  I　were　faithful　to　her　in　my　confidence　she　thought　she　should
  keep　a　little　register　of　my　violent　attachments；　with　the　date；
  duration；　and　termination　of　each；　like　the　table　of　the　reigns　of
  the　kings　and　queens；　in　the　History　of　England。　Then　she　asked
  me　if　I　had　seen　Uriah。
  ‘Uriah　Heep？’　said　I。　‘No。　Is　he　in　London？’
  ‘He　comes　to　the　office　downstairs；　every　day；’　returned　Agnes。
  ‘He　was　in　London　a　week　before　me。　I　am　afraid　on　disagreeable
  business；　Trotwood。’
  ‘On　some　business　that　makes　you　uneasy；　Agnes；　I　see；’　said　I。
  ‘What　can　that　be？’
  Agnes　laid　aside　her　work；　and　replied；　folding　her　hands　upon
  one　another；　and　looking　pensively　at　me　out　of　those　beautiful
  soft　eyes　of　hers：
  ‘I　believe　he　is　going　to　enter　into　partnership　with　papa。’
  ‘What？　Uriah？　That　mean；　fawning　fellow；　worm　himself　into
  such　promotion！’　I　cried；　indignantly。　‘Have　you　made　no
  remonstrance　about　it；　Agnes？　Consider　what　a　connexion　it　is
  likely　to　be。　You　must　speak　out。　You　must　not　allow　your　father　to
  take　such　a　mad　step。　You　must　prevent　it；　Agnes；　while　there’s
  time。’
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  Still　looking　at　me；　Agnes　shook　her　head　while　I　was　speaking；
  with　a　faint　smile　at　my　warmth：　and　then　replied：
  ‘You　remember　our　last　conversation　about　papa？　It　was　not
  long　after　that—not　more　than　two　or　three　days—when　he　gave
  me　the　first　intimation　of　what　I　tell　you。　It　was　sad　to　see　him
  struggling　between　his　desire　to　represent　it　to　me　as　a　matter　of
  choice　on　his　part；　and　his　inability　to　conceal　that　it　was　forced
  upon　him。　I　felt　very　sorry。’
  ‘Forced　upon　him；　Agnes！　Who　forces　it　upon　him？’
  ‘Uriah；’　she　replied；　after　a　moment’s　hesitation；　‘has　made
  himself　indispensable　to　papa。　He　is　subtle　and　watchful。　He　has
  mastered　papa’s　weaknesses；　fostered　them；　and　taken　advantage
  of　them；　until—to　say　all　that　I　mean　in　a　word；　Trotwood；—until
  papa　is　afraid　of　him。’
  There　was　more　that　she　might　have　said；　more　that　she　knew；
  or　that　she　suspected；　I　clearly　saw。　I　could　not　give　her　pain　by
  asking　what　it　was；　for　I　knew　that　she　withheld　it　from　me；　to
  spare　her　father。　It　had　long　been　going　on　to　this；　I　was　sensible：
  yes；　I　could　not　but　feel；　on　the　least　reflection；　that　it　had　been
  going　on　to　this　for　a　long　time。　I　remained　silent。
  ‘His　ascendancy　over　papa；’　said　Agnes；　‘is　very　great。　He
  professes　humility　and　gratitude—with　truth；　perhaps：　I　hope　so—
  but　his　position　is　really　one　of　power；　and　I　fear　he　makes　a　hard
  use　of　his　power。’
  I　said　he　was　a　hound；　which；　at　the　moment；　was　a　great
  satisfaction　to　me。
  ‘At　the　time　I　speak　of；　as　the　time　when　papa　spoke　to　me；’
  pursued　Agnes；　‘he　had　told　papa　that　he　was　going　away；　that　he
  was　very　sorry；　and　unwilling　to　leave；　but　that　he　had　better
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  prospects。　Papa　was　very　much　depressed　then；　and　more　bowed
  down　by　care　than　ever　you　or　I　have　seen　him；　but　he　seemed
  relieved　by　this　expedient　of　the　partnership；　though　at　the　same
  time　he　seemed　hurt　by　it　and　ashamed　of　it。’
  ‘And　how　did　you　receive　it；　Agnes？’
  ‘I　did；　Trotwood；’　she　replied；　‘what　I　hope　was　right。　Feeling
  sure　that　it　was　necessary　for　papa’s　peace　that　the　sacrifice
  should　be　made；　I　entreated　him　to　make　it。　I　said　it　would　lighten
  the　load　of　his　life—I　hope　it　will！—and　that　it　would　give　me
  increased　opportunities　of　being　his　companion。　Oh；　Trotwood！’
  cried　Agnes；　putting　her　hands　before　her　face；　as　her　tears　started
  on　it；　‘I　almost　feel　as　if　I　had　been　papa’s　enemy；　instead　of　his
  loving　child。　For　I　know　how　he　has　altered；　in　his　devotion　to　me。
  I　know　how　he　has　narrowed　the　circle　of　his　sympathies　and
  duties；　in　the　concentration　of　his　whole　mind　upon　me。　I　know
  wha