Page 67 - david-copperfield

Blunderstone Rookery would come, however, in spite of
her, when the carrier’s horse pleased - and did. How well I
recollect it, on a cold grey afternoon, with a dull sky, threat-
ening rain!
The door opened, and I looked, half laughing and half
crying in my pleasant agitation, for my mother. It was not
she, but a strange servant.
‘Why, Peggotty!’ I said, ruefully, ‘isn’t she come home?’
‘Yes, yes, Master Davy,’ said Peggotty. ‘She’s come home.
Wait a bit, Master Davy, and I’ll - I’ll tell you something.’
Between her agitation, and her natural awkwardness in
getting out of the cart, Peggotty was making a most extraor-
dinary festoon of herself, but I felt too blank and strange to
tell her so. When she had got down, she took me by the hand;
led me, wondering, into the kitchen; and shut the door.
‘Peggotty!’ said I, quite frightened. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing’s the matter, bless you, Master Davy dear!’ she
answered, assuming an air of sprightliness.
‘Something’s the matter, I’m sure. Where’s mama?’
‘Where’s mama, Master Davy?’ repeated Peggotty.
‘Yes. Why hasn’t she come out to the gate, and what have
we come in here for? Oh, Peggotty!’ My eyes were full, and I
felt as if I were going to tumble down.
‘Bless the precious boy!’ cried Peggotty, taking hold of
me. ‘What is it? Speak, my pet!’
‘Not dead, too! Oh, she’s not dead, Peggotty?’
Peggotty cried out No! with an astonishing volume of
voice; and then sat down, and began to pant, and said I had
given her a turn.

David Copperfield