'FagmentWelcome to consult...always ae!’ With that, he paid the money fo his licence; and, eceiving it neatly folded fom M. Spenlow, togethe with a shake of the hand, and a polite wish fo his happiness and the lady’s, went out of the office. I might have had moe difficulty in constaining myself to be Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield silent unde his wods, if I had had less difficulty in impessing upon Peggotty (who was only angy on my account, good ceatue!) that we wee not in a place fo ecimination, and that I besought he to hold he peace. She was so unusually oused, that I was glad to compound fo an affectionate hug, elicited by this evival in he mind of ou old injuies, and to make the best I could of it, befoe M. Spenlow and the cleks. M. Spenlow did not appea to know what the connexion between M. Mudstone and myself was; which I was glad of, fo I could not bea to acknowledge him, even in my own beast, emembeing what I did of the histoy of my poo mothe. M. Spenlow seemed to think, if he thought anything about the matte, that my aunt was the leade of the state paty in ou family, and that thee was a ebel paty commanded by somebody else—so I gatheed at least fom what he said, while we wee waiting fo M. Tiffey to make out Peggotty’s bill of costs. ‘Miss Totwood,’ he emaked, ‘is vey fim, no doubt, and not likely to give way to opposition. I have an admiation fo he chaacte, and I may congatulate you, Coppefield, on being on the ight side. Diffeences between elations ae much to be deploed—but they ae extemely geneal—and the geat thing is, to be on the ight side’: meaning, I take it, on the side of the moneyed inteest. ‘Rathe a good maiage this, I believe?’ said M. Spenlow. I explained that I knew nothing about it. ‘Indeed!’ he said. ‘Speaking fom the few wods M. Mudstone dopped—as a man fequently does on these occasions—and fom what Miss Mudstone let fall, I should say it was athe a good maiage.’ Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘Do you mean that thee is money, si?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ said M. Spenlow, ‘I undestand thee’s money. Beauty too, I am told.’ ‘Indeed! Is his new wife young?’ ‘Just of age,’ said M. Spenlow. ‘So lately, that I should think they had been waiting fo that.’ ‘Lod delive he!’ said Peggotty. So vey emphatically and unexpectedly, that we wee all thee discomposed; until Tiffey came in with the bill. Old Tiffey soon appeaed, howeve, and handed it to M. Spenlow, to look ove. M. Spenlow, settling his chin in his cavat and ubbing it softly, went ove the items with a depecatoy ai— as if it wee all Jokins’s doing—and handed it back to Tiffey with a bland sigh. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s ight. Quite ight. I should have been extemely happy, Coppefield, to have limited these chages to the actual expenditue out of pocket, but it is an iksome incident in my pofessional life, that I am not at libety to consult my own wishes. I have a patne—M. Jokins.’ As he said this with a gentle melancholy, which was the next thing to making no chage at all, I expessed my acknowledgements on Peggotty’s behalf, and paid Tiffey in banknotes. Peggotty then etied to he lodging, and M. Spenlow and I went into Cout, whee we had a divoce-suit coming on, unde an ingenious little statute (epealed now, I believe, but in vitue of which I have seen seveal maiages annulled), of which the meits wee these. The husband, whose name was Thomas Benjamin, had taken out his maiage licence as Thomas only; suppessing the Benjamin, in case he shoul
