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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com-David Copperfield by Charles Dickens


hand, often refreshed herself with its fragrance. Our eyes at
those times often met; and my great astonishment is that I didn't
go over the head of my gallant grey into the carriage.

There was dust, I believe. There was a good deal of dust, I
believe. I have a faint impression that Mr. Spenlow remonstrated
with me for riding in it; but I knew of none. I was sensible of a
mist of love and beauty about Dora, but of nothing else. He stood
up sometimes, and asked me what I thought of the prospect. I said
it was delightful, and I dare say it was; but it was all Dora to
me. The sun shone Dora, and the birds sang Dora. The south wind
blew Dora, and the wild flowers in the hedges were all Doras, to a
bud. My comfort is, Miss Mills understood me. Miss Mills alone
could enter into my feelings thoroughly.

I don't know how long we were going, and to this hour I know as
little where we went. Perhaps it was near Guildford. Perhaps some
Arabian-night magician, opened up the place for the day, and shut
it up for ever when we came away. It was a green spot, on a hill,
carpeted with soft turf. There were shady trees, and heather, and,
as far as the eye could see, a rich landscape.

It was a trying thing to find people here, waiting for us; and my
jealousy, even of the ladies, knew no bounds. But all of my own
sex - especially one impostor, three or four years my elder, with
a red whisker, on which he established an amount of presumption not
to be endured - were my mortal foes.

We all unpacked our baskets, and employed ourselves in getting
dinner ready. Red Whisker pretended he could make a salad (which
I don't believe), and obtruded himself on public notice. Some of
the young ladies washed the lettuces for him, and sliced them under
his directions. Dora was among these. I felt that fate had pitted
me against this man, and one of us must fall.

Red Whisker made his salad (I wondered how they could eat it.
Nothing should have induced ME to touch it!) and voted himself into
the charge of the wine-cellar, which he constructed, being an
ingenious beast, in the hollow trunk of a tree. By and by, I saw
him, with the majority of a lobster on his plate, eating his dinner
at the feet of Dora!

I have but an indistinct idea of what happened for some time after
this baleful object presented itself to my view. I was very merry,
I know; but it was hollow merriment. I attached myself to a young
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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - PinkMonkey.com-David Copperfield by Charles Dickens



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