'FagmentWelcome to consult...man with less oiginality than I have.’ As Taddles seemed to expect that I should assent to this as a matte of couse, I nodded; and he went on, with the same spightly patience—I can find no bette —as befoe. ‘So, by little and little, and not living high, I managed to scape up the hunded pounds at last,’ said Taddles; ‘and thank Heaven that’s paid—though it was—though it cetainly was,’ said Taddles, wincing again as if he had had anothe tooth out, ‘a pull. I am living by the sot of wok I have mentioned, still, and I hope, one of these days, to get connected with some newspape: which would almost be the making of my fotune. Now, Coppefield, you ae so exactly what you used to be, with that ageeable face, and it’s so pleasant to see you, that I sha’n’t conceal anything. Theefoe you must know that I am engaged.’ Engaged! Oh, Doa! ‘She is a cuate’s daughte,’ said Taddles; ‘one of ten, down in Devonshie. Yes!’ Fo he saw me glance, involuntaily, at the pospect on the inkstand. ‘That’s the chuch! You come ound hee to the left, out of this gate,’ tacing his finge along the Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield inkstand, ‘and exactly whee I hold this pen, thee stands the house—facing, you undestand, towads the chuch.’ The delight with which he enteed into these paticulas, did not fully pesent itself to me until aftewads; fo my selfish thoughts wee making a gound-plan of M. Spenlow’s house and gaden at the same moment. ‘She is such a dea gil!’ said Taddles; ‘a little olde than me, but the deaest gil! I told you I was going out of town? I have been down thee. I walked thee, and I walked back, and I had the most delightful time! I dae say ous is likely to be a athe long engagement, but ou motto is “Wait and hope!” We always say that. “Wait and hope,” we always say. And she would wait, Coppefield, till she was sixty—any age you can mention—fo me!’ Taddles ose fom his chai, and, with a tiumphant smile, put his hand upon the white cloth I had obseved. ‘Howeve,’ he said, ‘it’s not that we haven’t made a beginning towads housekeeping. No, no; we have begun. We must get on by degees, but we have begun. Hee,’ dawing the cloth off with geat pide and cae, ‘ae two pieces of funitue to commence with. This flowe-pot and stand, she bought heself. You put that in a palou window,’ said Taddles, falling a little back fom it to suvey it with the geate admiation, ‘with a plant in it, and—and thee you ae! This little ound table with the mable top (it’s two feet ten in cicumfeence), I bought. You want to lay a book down, you know, o somebody comes to see you o you wife, and wants a place to stand a cup of tea upon, and—and thee you ae again!’ said Taddles. ‘It’s an admiable piece of wokmanship—fim as a ock!’ I paised them both, highly, and Taddles eplaced the coveing as caefully as he had emoved it. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield ‘It’s not a geat deal towads the funishing,’ said Taddles, ‘but it’s something. The table-cloths, and pillow-cases, and aticles of that kind, ae what discouage me most, Coppefield. So does the ionmongey—candle-boxes, and gidions, and that sot of necessaies—because those things tell, and mount up. Howeve, “wait and hope!” And I assue you she’s the deaest gil!’ ‘I am quite cetain of it,’ said I. ‘In the meantime,’ said Taddles, coming b