"How do you know it's not that?" said Peggotty, after a silence.
"Oh, his sorrow is another and quite a different thing. He is sorry at this moment, sitting by the fireside with Miss Murdstone; but if I was to go in, Peggotty, he would be something besides."
"What would he be?" said Peggotty.
"Angry," I answered, with an involuntary imitation of his dark frown.
"If he was only sorry, he wouldn't look at me as he does. I am only sorry, and it makes me feel kinder."
Peggotty said nothing for a little while; and I warmed my hands, as silent as she.
"Davy," she said at length.
"Yes, Peggotty?"
"I have tried, my dear, all ways I could think of—all the ways there are, and all the ways there ain't, in short—to get a suitable service here, in Blunderstone; but there's no such a thing, my love."
"And what do you mean to do, Peggotty?" says I, wistfully. "Do you mean to go and seek your fortune? "
"I expect I shall be forced to go to Yarmouth," replied Peggotty, "and live there."
"You might have gone farther off," I said, brightening a little, "and been as bad as lost. I shall see you sometimes, my dear old Peggotty, there. You won't be quite at the other end of the world, will you?"
"Contrary ways, please God!" cried Peggotty, with great animation. "As long as you are here, my pet, I shall come over every week of my life to see you. One day, every week of my life!"
I felt a great weight taken off my mind by this promise; but even this was not all, for Peggotty went on to say:
"I'm a going, Davy, you see, to my brother's, first, for another fortnight's visit—just till I have had time to look about me, and get to be something like myself again. Now, I have been thinking, that perhaps, as they don't want you here at present, you might be let to go along with me."
If anything, short of being in a different relation to every one about me, Peggotty excepted, could have given me a sense of pleasure at that time, it would have been this project of all others. The idea of being again surrounded by those honest faces, shining welcome on me; of renewing the peacefulness of the sweet Sunday morning, when the bells were ringing, the stones dropping in the water, and the shadowy ships breaking through the mist; of roaming up and down with little Em'ly, telling her my troubles, and finding charms against them in the shells and pebbles on the beach; made a calm in my heart. It was ruffled next moment, to be sure, by a doubt of Miss Murdstone's giving her consent; but even that was set at rest soon, for she came out to take an evening grope in the store-closet while we were yet in conversation, and Peggotty, with a boldness that amazed me, broached the topic on the spot.
"The boy will be idle there," said Miss Murdstone, looking into a pickle-jar, "and idleness is the root of all evil. But, to be sure, he would be idle here—or anywhere, in my opinion."
Peggotty had an angry answer ready, I could see; but she swallowed it for my sake, and remained silent.
"Humph!" said Miss Murdstone, still keeping her eye on the pickles;
