Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 1Sylph, I don’t know what she was - anything that no one
ever saw, and everything that everybody ever wanted. I was
swallowed up in an abyss of love in an instant. There was no
pausing on the brink; no looking down, or looking back; I
was gone, headlong, before I had sense to say a word to her.
‘I,’ observed a well-remembered voice, when I had bowed
and murmured something, ‘have seen Mr. Copperfield be-
fore.’
The speaker was not Dora. No; the confidential friend,
Miss Murdstone!
I don’t think I was much astonished. To the best of my
judgement, no capacity of astonishment was left in me.
There was nothing worth mentioning in the material world,
but Dora Spenlow, to be astonished about. I said, ‘How do
you do, Miss Murdstone? I hope you are well.’ She answered,
‘Very well.’ I said, ‘How is Mr. Murdstone?’ She replied, ‘My
brother is robust, I am obliged to you.’
Mr. Spenlow, who, I suppose, had been surprised to see
us recognize each other, then put in his word.
‘I am glad to find,’ he said, ‘Copperfield, that you and
Miss Murdstone are already acquainted.’
‘Mr. Copperfield and myself,’ said Miss Murdstone, with
severe composure, ‘are connexions. We were once slightly
acquainted. It was in his childish days. Circumstances have
separated us since. I should not have known him.’
I replied that I should have known her, anywhere. Which
was true enough.
‘Miss Murdstone has had the goodness,’ said Mr. Spen-
low to me, ‘to accept the office - if I may so describe it - of