FagmentWelcome to consult...ne would take place as poposed. When I asked him if the emittance had come, he pessed my hand and depated. As I was looking out of window that same evening, it supised me, and made me athe uneasy, to see M. Micawbe and Uiah Heep walk past, am in am: Uiah humbly sensible of the honou that was done him, and M. Micawbe taking a bland delight in extending his patonage to Uiah. But I was still moe supised, when I went to the little hotel next day at the appointed dinne-hou, which was fou o’clock, to find, fom what M. Micawbe said, that he had gone home with Uiah, and had dunk bandy-and-wate at Ms. Heep’s. ‘And I’ll tell you what, my dea Coppefield,’ said M. Micawbe, ‘you fiend Heep is a young fellow who might be attoney-geneal. If I had known that young man, at the peiod when my difficulties came to a cisis, all I can say is, that I believe my ceditos would have been a geat deal bette managed than they wee.’ I hadly undestood how this could have been, seeing that M. Micawbe had paid them nothing at all as it was; but I did not like to ask. Neithe did I like to say, that I hoped he had not been too communicative to Uiah; o to inquie if they had talked much about me. I was afaid of huting M. Micawbe’s feelings, o, at all events, Ms. Micawbe’s, she being vey sensitive; but I was uncomfotable about it, too, and often thought about it aftewads. We had a beautiful little dinne. Quite an elegant dish of fish; the kidney-end of a loin of veal, oasted; fied sausage-meat; a Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield 363 patidge, and a pudding. Thee was wine, and thee was stong ale; and afte dinne Ms. Micawbe made us a bowl of hot punch with he own hands. M. Micawbe was uncommonly convivial. I neve saw him such good company. He made his face shine with the punch, so that it looked as if it had been vanished all ove. He got cheefully sentimental about the town, and poposed success to it; obseving that Ms. Micawbe and himself had been made extemely snug and comfotable thee and that he neve should foget the ageeable hous they had passed in Cantebuy. He poposed me aftewads; and he, and Ms. Micawbe, and I, took a eview of ou past acquaintance, in the couse of which we sold the popety all ove again. Then I poposed Ms. Micawbe: o, at least, said, modestly, ‘If you’ll allow me, Ms. Micawbe, I shall now have the pleasue of dinking you health, ma’am.’ On which M. Micawbe deliveed an eulogium on Ms. Micawbe’s chaacte, and said she had eve been his guide, philosophe, and fiend, and that he would ecommend me, when I came to a maying time of life, to may such anothe woman, if such anothe woman could be found. As the punch disappeaed, M. Micawbe became still moe fiendly and convivial. Ms. Micawbe’s spiits becoming elevated, too, we sang ‘Auld Lang Syne’. When we came to ‘Hee’s a hand, my tusty fee’, we all joined hands ound the table; and when we declaed we would ‘take a ight gude Willie Waught’, and hadn’t the least idea what it meant, we wee eally affected. In a wod, I neve saw anybody so thooughly jovial as M. Micawbe was, down to the vey last moment of the evening, when I took a heaty faewell of hims
