David Copperfield
It was in vain for me to say that no consideration was
necessary. They persisted in withdrawing for the specified
time. Accordingly, these little birds hopped out with great
dignity; leaving me to receive the congratulations of Trad-
dles, and to feel as if I were translated to regions of exquisite
happiness. Exactly at the expiration of the quarter of an
hour, they reappeared with no less dignity than they had
disappeared. They had gone rustling away as if their little
dresses were made of autumn-leaves: and they came rus-
tling back, in like manner.
I then bound myself once more to the prescribed condi-
tions.
‘Sister Clarissa,’ said Miss Lavinia, ‘the rest is with you.’
Miss Clarissa, unfolding her arms for the first time, took
the notes and glanced at them.
‘We shall be happy,’ said Miss Clarissa, ‘to see Mr. Cop-
perfield to dinner, every Sunday, if it should suit his
convenience. Our hour is three.’
I bowed.
‘In the course of the week,’ said Miss Clarissa, ‘we shall
be happy to see Mr. Copperfield to tea. Our hour is half-
past six.’
I bowed again.
‘Twice in the week,’ said Miss Clarissa, ‘but, as a rule, not
oftener.’
I bowed again.
‘Miss Trotwood,’ said Miss Clarissa, ‘mentioned in Mr.
Copperfield’s letter, will perhaps call upon us. When vis-
iting is better for the happiness of all parties, we are glad