impression　that　I　was　a　Bandit；　and　we　all　three　went　in；　as　happy
  and　loving　as　could　be。　I　soon　carried　desolation　into　the　bosom　of
  our　joys—not　that　I　meant　to　do　it；　but　that　I　was　so　full　of　the
  subject—by　asking　Dora；　without　the　smallest　preparation；　if　she
  could　love　a　beggar？
  My　pretty；　little；　startled　Dora！　Her　only　association　with　the
  word　was　a　yellow　face　and　a　nightcap；　or　a　pair　of　crutches；　or　a
  wooden　leg；　or　a　dog　with　a　decanter…stand　in　his　mouth；　or
  something　of　that　kind；　and　she　stared　at　me　with　the　most
  delightful　wonder。
  ‘How　can　you　ask　me　anything　so　foolish？’　pouted　Dora。　‘Love　a
  beggar！’
  ‘Dora；　my　own　dearest！’　said　I。　‘I　am　a　beggar！’
  ‘How　can　you　be　such　a　silly　thing；’　replied　Dora；　slapping　my
  hand；　‘as　to　sit　there；　telling　such　stories？　I’ll　make　Jip　bite　you！’
  Her　childish　way　was　the　most　delicious　way　in　the　world　to　me；
  but　it　was　necessary　to　be　explicit；　and　I　solemnly　repeated：
  ‘Dora；　my　own　life；　I　am　your　ruined　David！’
  ‘I　declare　I’ll　make　Jip　bite　you！’　said　Dora；　shaking　her　curls；　‘if
  you　are　so　ridiculous。’
  But　I　looked　so　serious；　that　Dora　left　off　shaking　her　curls；　and
  laid　her　trembling　little　hand　upon　my　shoulder；　and　first　looked
  scared　and　anxious；　then　began　to　cry。　That　was　dreadful。　I　fell
  upon　my　knees　before　the　sofa；　caressing　her；　and　imploring　her
  not　to　rend　my　heart；　but；　for　some　time；　poor　little　Dora　did
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  David　Copperfield
  nothing　but　exclaim　Oh　dear！　Oh　dear！　And　oh；　she　was　so
  frightened！　And　where　was　Julia　Mills！　And　oh；　take　her　to　Julia
  Mills；　and　go　away；　please！　until　I　was　almost　beside　myself。
  At　last；　after　an　agony　of　supplication　and　protestation；　I　got
  Dora　to　look　at　me；　with　a　horrified　expression　of　face；　which　I
  gradually　soothed　until　it　was　only　loving；　and　her　soft；　pretty
  cheek　was　lying　against　mine。　Then　I　told　her；　with　my　arms
  clasped　round　her；　how　I　loved　her；　so　dearly；　and　so　dearly；　how　I
  felt　it　right　to　offer　to　release　her　from　her　engagement；　because
  now　I　was　poor；　how　I　never　could　bear　it；　or　recover　it；　if　I　lost
  her；　how　I　had　no　fears　of　poverty；　if　she　had　none；　my　arm　being
  nerved　and　my　heart　inspired　by　her；　how　I　was　already　working
  with　a　courage　such　as　none　but　lovers　knew；　how　I　had　begun　to
  be　practical；　and　look　into　the　future；　how　a　crust　well　earned　was
  sweeter　far　than　a　feast　inherited；　and　much　more　to　the　same
  purpose；　which　I　delivered　in　a　burst　of　passionate　eloquence
  quite　surprising　to　myself；　though　I　had　been　thinking　about　it；
  day　and　night；　ever　since　my　aunt　had　astonished　me。
  ‘Is　your　heart　mine　still；　dear　Dora？’　said　I；　rapturously；　for　I
  knew　by　her　clinging　to　me　that　it　was。
  ‘Oh；　yes！’　cried　Dora。　‘Oh；　yes；　it’s　all　yours。　Oh；　don’t　be
  dreadful！’
  I　dreadful！　To　Dora！
  ‘Don’t　talk　about　being　poor；　and　working　hard！’　said　Dora；
  nestling　closer　to　me。　‘Oh；　don’t；　don’t！’
  ‘My　dearest　love；’　said　I；　‘the　crust　well…earned—’
  ‘Oh；　yes；　but　I　don’t　want　to　hear　any　more　about　crusts！’　said
  Dora。　‘And　Jip　must　have　a　mutton…chop　every　day　at　twelve；　or
  he’ll　die。’
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  I　was　charmed　with　her　childish；　winning　way。　I　fondly
  explained　to　Dora　that　Jip　should　have　his　mutton…chop　with　his
  accustomed　regularity。　I　drew　a　picture　of　our　frugal　home；　made
  independent　by　my　labour—sketching　in　the　little　house　I　had
  seen　at　Highgate；　and　my　aunt　in　her　room　upstairs。
  ‘I　am　not　dreadful　now；　Dora？’　said　I；　tenderly。
  ‘Oh；　no；　no！’　cried　Dora。　‘But　I　hope　your　aunt　will　keep　in　her
  own　room　a　good　deal。　And　I　hope　she’s　not　a　scolding　old　thing！’
  If　it　were　possible　for　me　to　love　Dora　more　than　ever；　I　am　sure
  I　did。　But　I　felt　she　was　a　little　impracticable。　It　damped　my　newborn　ardour；　to　find　that　ardour　so　difficult　of　communication　to
  her。　I　made　another　trial。　When　she　was　quite　herself　again；　and
  was　curling　Jip’s　ears；　as　he　lay　upon　her　lap；　I　became　grave；　and
  said：
  ‘My　own！　May　I　mention　something？’
  ‘Oh；　please　don’t　be　practical！’　said　Dora；　coaxingly。　‘Because　it
  frightens　me　so！’
  ‘Sweetheart！’　I　returned；　‘there　is　nothing　to　alarm　you　in　all
  this。　I　want　you　to　think　of　it　quite　differently。　I　want　to　make　it
  nerve　you；　and　inspire　you；　Dora！’
  ‘Oh；　but　that’s　so　shocking！’　cried　Dora。
  ‘My　love；　no。　Perseverance　and　strength　of　character　will
  enable　us　to　bear　much　worse　things。’
  ‘But　I　haven’t　got　any　strength　at　all；’　said　Dora；　shaking　her
  curls。　‘Have　I；　Jip？　Oh；　do　kiss　Jip；　and　be　agreeable！’
  It　was　impossible　to　resist　kissing　Jip；　when　she　held　him　up　to
  me　for　that　purpose；　putting　her　own　bright；　rosy　little　mouth　into
  kissing　form；　as　she　directed　the　operation；　which　she　insisted
  should　be　performed　symmetrically；　on　the　centre　of　his　nose。　I
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  did　as　she　bade　me—rewarding　myself　afterwards　for　my
  obedience—and　she　charmed　me　out　of　my　graver　character　for　I
  don’t　know　how　long。
  ‘But；　Dora；　my　beloved！’　said　I；　at　last　resuming　it；　‘I　was　going
  to　mention　something。’
  The　judge　of　the　Prerogative　Court　might　have　fallen　in　love
  with　her；　to　see　her　fold　her　little　hands　and　hold　them　up；　begging
  and　praying　me　not　to　be　dreadful　any　more。
  ‘Indeed　I　am　not　going　to　be；　my　darling！’　I　assured　her。　‘But；
  Dora；　my　love；　if　you　will　sometimes　think；—not　despondingly；　you
  know；　far　from　that！—but　if　you　will　sometimes　think—just　to
  encourage　yourself—that　you　are　engaged　to　a　poor　man—’
  ‘Don’t；　don’t！　Pray　don’t！’　cried　Dora。　‘It’s　so　very　dreadful！’
  ‘My　soul；　not　at　all！’　said　I；　cheerfully。　‘If　you　will　sometimes
  think　of　that；　and　look　about　now　and　then　at　your　papa’s
  housekeeping；　and　endeavour　to　acquire　a　little　habit—of
  accounts；　for　instance—’
  Poor　little　Dora　received　this　suggestion　with　something　that
  was　half　a　sob　and　half　a　scream。
  ‘—It　would　be　so　useful　to　us　afterwards；’　I　went　on。　‘And　if　you
  would　promise　me　to　read　a　little—a　little　Cookery　Book　that　I
  would　send　you；　it　would　be　so　excellent　for　both　of　us。　For　our
  path　in　life；　my　Dora；’　said　I；　warming　with　the　subject；　‘is　stony
  and　rugged　now；　and　it　rests　with　us　to　smooth　it。　We　must　fight
  our　way　onward。　We　must　be　brave。　There　are　obstacles　to　be　met；
  and　we　must　meet；　and　crush　them！’
  I　was　going　on　at　a　great　rate；　with　a　clenched　hand；　and　a　most
  enthusiastic　countenance；　but　it　was　quite　unnecessary　to
  proceed。　I　had　said　enough。　I　had　done　it　again。　Oh；　she　was　so
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  frightened！　Oh；　where　was　Julia　Mills！　Oh；　take　her　to　Julia　Mills；
  and　go　away；　please！　So　that；　in　short；　I　was　quite　distracted；　and
  raved　about　the　drawing…room。
  I　thought　I　had　killed　her；　this　time。　I　sprinkled　water　on　her
  face。　I　went　down　on　my　knees。　I　plucked　at　my　hair。　I　denounced
  myself　as　a　remorseless　brute　and　a　ruthless　beast。　I　implored　her
  forgiveness。　I　besought　her　to　look　up。　I　ravaged　Miss　Mills’s　workbox　for　a　smelling…bottle；　and　in　my　agony　of　mind　applied　an
  ivory　needle…case　instead；　and　dropped　all　the　needles　over　Dora。　I
  shook　my　fists　at　Jip；　who　was　as　frantic　as　myself。　I　did　every　wild
  extravagance　that　could　be　done；　and　was　a　long　way　beyond　the
  end　of　my　wits　when　Miss　Mills　came　into　the　room。
  ‘Who　has　done　this？’　exclaimed　Miss　Mills；　succouring　her
  friend。
  I　replied；　‘I；　Miss　Mills！　I　have　done　it！　Behold　the　destroyer！’—
  or　words　to　that　effect—and　hid　my　face　from　the　light；　in　the　sofa
  cushion。
  At　first　Miss　Mills　thought　it　was　a　quarrel；　and　that　we　were
  verging　on　the　Desert　of　Sahara；　but　she　soon　found　out　how
  matters　stood；　for　my　dear　affectionate　little　Dora；　embracing　her；
  began　exclaiming　that　I　was　‘a　poor　labourer’；　and　then　cried　for
  me；　and　embraced　me；　and　asked　me　would　I　let　her　give　me　all
  her　money　to　keep；　and　then　fell　on　Miss　Mills’s　neck；　sobbing　as　if
  her　tender　heart　were　broken。
  Miss　Mills　must　have　been　born　to　be　a　blessing　to　us。　She
  ascertained　from　me　in　a　few　words　what　it　was　all　about；
  comforted　Dora；　and　gradually　convinced　her　that　I　was　not　a
  labourer—from　my　manner　of　stating　the　case　I　believe　Dora
  concluded　that　I　was　a　navigator；　and　went　balancing　myself　up
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  and　down　a　plank　all　day　with　a　wheelbarrow—and　so　brought　us
  together　in　peace。　When　we　were　quite　composed；　and　Dora　had
  gone　up…stairs　to　put　some　rose…water　to　her　eyes；　Miss　Mills　rang
  for　tea。　In　the　ensuing　interval；　I　told　Miss　Mills　that　she　was
  evermore　my　friend；　and　that　my　heart　must　cease　to　vibrate　ere　I
  could　forget　her　sympathy。
  I　then　expounded　to　Miss　Mills　what　I　had　endeavoured；　so　very
  unsuccessfully；　to　expound　to　Dora。　Miss　Mills　replied；　on　general
  principles；　that　the　Cottage　of　content　was　better