‘Thank you, dear Peggotty!’ said I. ‘Oh, thank you! Thank you! Will you promise me one thing, Peggotty? Will you write and tell Mr. Peggotty and little Em’ly, and Mrs. Gummidge and Ham, that I am not so bad as they might suppose, and that I sent ‘em all my love — especially to little Em’ly? Will you, if you please, Peggotty?’

The kind soul promised, and we both of us kissed the keyhole with the greatest affection — I patted it with my hand, I recollect, as if it had been her honest face — and parted.

From that night there grew up in my breast a feeling for Peggotty which I cannot very well define. She did not replace my mother; no one could do that; but she came into a vacancy in my heart, which closed upon her, and I felt