have given me greater pleasure, than to be godmother to that good young creature’s baby!’

Mr. Peggotty nodded his understanding of my aunt’s feelings, but could not trust himself with any verbal reference to the subject of her commendation. We all remained silent, and occupied with our own reflections (my aunt drying her eyes, and now sobbing convulsively, and now laughing and calling herself a fool); until I spoke.

‘You have quite made up your mind,’ said I to Mr. Peggotty, ‘as to the future, good friend? I need scarcely ask you.’

‘Quite, Mas’r Davy,’ he returned; ‘and told Em’ly. Theer’s mighty countries, fur from heer. Our future life lays over the sea.’