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A Retrospect

           IpictureMissLarkinssinkingherheaduponmyshoulder,andsaying,‘Oh,Mr.Copperfield,canIbelievemyears!’IpictureMr.Larkinswaitingonmenextmorning,andsaying,‘MydearCopperfield,mydaughterhastoldmeall.Youthisnoobjection.Herearetwentythousandpounds.Behappy!’Ipicturemyauntrelenting,andblessingus;andMr.DickandDoctorStrongbeingpresentatthemarriageceremony.Iamasensiblefellow,IbelieveIbelieve,onlookingback,ImeanandmodestIamsure;butallthisgoesonnotwithstanding.Irepairtotheenchantedhouse,wheretherearelights,chattering,music,flowers,officers(Iamsorrytosee),andtheeldestMissLarkins,ablazeofbeauty.Sheisdressedinblue,withblueflowersinherhairforget-me-notsasifSHEhadanyneedtowearforget-me-nots.Itisthefirstreallygrown-uppartythatIhaveeverbeeninvitedto,andIamalittleuncomfortable;forIappearnottobelongtoanybody,andnobodyappearstohaveanythingtosaytome,exceptMr.Larkins,whoasksmehowmyschoolfellowsare,whichheneedn’tdo,asIhavenotcometheretobeinsulted.

           ButafterIhavestoodinthedoorwayforsometime,andfeastedmyeyesuponthegoddessofmyheart,sheapproachesmeshe,theeldestMissLarkins!andasksmepleasantly,ifIdance?

           Istammer,withabow,‘Withyou,MissLarkins.’

           ‘Withnooneelse?’inquiresMissLarkins.

           ‘Ishouldhavenopleasureindancingwithanyoneelse.

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Roboto Lora
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