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less as I have seen of her dear face, as grow’d into a woman’s
at my hearth. But, all night long, her arms has been about
my neck; and her head has laid heer; and we knows full well,
as we can put our trust in one another, ever more.’
He ceased to speak, and his hand upon the table rested
there in perfect repose, with a resolution in it that might
have conquered lions.
‘It was a gleam of light upon me, Trot,’ said my aunt,
drying her eyes, ‘when I formed the resolution of being god-
mother to your sister Betsey Trotwood, who disappointed
me; but, next to that, hardly anything would have given me
greater pleasure, than to be godmother to that good young
creature’s baby!’
Mr. Peggotty nodded his understanding of my aunt’s feel-
ings, but could not trust himself with any verbal reference
to the subject of her commendation. We all remained silent,
and occupied with our own reflections (my aunt drying her
eyes, and now sobbing convulsively, and now laughing and
calling herself a fool); until I spoke.
‘You have quite made up your mind,’ said I to Mr. Peggot-
ty, ‘as to the future, good friend? I need scarcely ask you.’
‘Quite, Mas’r Davy,’ he returned; ‘and told Em’ly. Theer’s
mighty countries, fur from heer. Our future life lays over
the sea.’
‘They will emigrate together, aunt,’ said I.
‘Yes!’ said Mr. Peggotty, with a hopeful smile. ‘No one
can’t reproach my darling in Australia. We will begin a new
life over theer!’
I asked him if he yet proposed to himself any time for