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I should have no pleasure in dancing with any one else. Miss Larkins laughs and blushes (or I think she blushes), and says, Next time but one, I shall be very glad. The time arrives. It is a waltz, I think, Miss Larkins doubtfully observes, when I present myself. Do you waltz? If not, Captain Bailey But I do waltz (pretty well, too, as it happens), and I take Miss Larkins out. I take her sternly from the side of Captain Bailey. He is wretched, I have no doubt; but he is nothing to me. I have been wretched too. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins! I dont know where, among whom, or how long. I only know that I swim about in space, with a blue angel, in a state of blissful delirium, until I find myself alone with her in a little room, resting on a sofa. She admires a flower (pink camellia japonica, price half-a-crown) in my button-hole. I give it her, and say I ask an inestimable price for it, Miss Larkins. Indeed! What is that? returns Miss Larkins. A flower of yours, that I may treasure it as a miser does gold. Youre a bold boy, says Miss Larkins. There. She gives it me, not displeased; and I put it to my lips, and then into my breast. Miss Larkins, laughing, draws her hand through my arm, and says, Now take me back to Captain Bailey. I am lost in the recollection of this delicious interview, and the waltz, when she comes to me again, with a plain elderly gentleman, who has been playing whist all night, upon her arm, and says Oh! here is my bold friend! Mr. Chestle wants to know you, Mr. Copperfield. I feel at once that he is a friend of the family, and am much gratified. I admire your taste, Sir, says Mr. Chestle. It does you credit. I suppose you dont take much interest in hops, but I am a pretty large grower myself, and if you ever like to come over to our neighbourhoodneighbourhood of Ashfordand take a run about our place, we shall be glad for you to stop as long as you like. I thank Mr. Chestle warmly, and shake hands. I think I am in a happy dream. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins once againshe says I waltz so well! I go home in a state of unspeakable bliss, and waltz in imagination, all night long, with my arm round the blue waist of my dear divinity. For some days afterwards I am lost in rapturous reflections; but I neither see her in the street, nor when I call. I am imperfectly consoled for this disappointment by the sacred pledge, the perished flower. Trotwood, says Agnes, one day after dinner, who do you think is going to be married to-morrow? Some one you admire. Not you, I suppose, Agnes? Not me! raising her cheerful face from the music she is copying. Do you hear him, papa?The eldest Miss Larkins. Toto Captain Bailey? I have just enough power to ask. No; to no captain. To Mr. Chestle, a hop-grower. |
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