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Updated: June 16, 2025
When the pony chaise stopped at the door, we alighted and had a long conference with Mr. Wickfield, an elderly gentleman with grey hair and black eyebrows. He approved of my aunt's selection of Dr. Strong's school, and in regard to a home for me, made the following proposal: "Leave your nephew here for the present. He's a quiet fellow. He won't disturb me at all. It's a capital house for study.
"On that understanding," said my aunt, "though it doesn't lessen the real obligation, I shall be very glad to leave him." "Then come and see my little housekeeper," said Mr. Wickfield.
And really the great friendship and consideration of personally associating Sophy with the joyful occasion, and inviting her to be a bridesmaid in conjunction with Miss Wickfield, demands my warmest thanks. I am extremely sensible of it. I hear him, and shake hands with him; and we talk, and walk, and dine, and so on; but I don't believe it. Nothing is real.
Micawber, representing it on the desk with the office ruler, 'is the whole range of the human intellect, with a trifling exception; on the other, IS that exception; that is to say, the affairs of Messrs Wickfield and Heep, with all belonging and appertaining thereunto. I trust I give no offence to the companion of my youth, in submitting this proposition to his cooler judgement?
Wickfield, 'if Doctor Watts knew mankind, he might have written, with as much truth, "Satan finds some mischief still, for busy hands to do." The busy people achieve their full share of mischief in the world, you may rely upon it. What have the people been about, who have been the busiest in getting money, and in getting power, this century or two? No mischief?
Wickfield, putting out his hands, as if to deprecate my condemnation. 'He knows best, meaning Uriah Heep, 'for he has always been at my elbow, whispering me. You see the millstone that he is about my neck. You find him in my house, you find him in my business. You heard him, but a little time ago. What need have I to say more!
Wickfield my hand, preparatory to going away myself. But he checked me and said: 'Should you like to stay with us, Trotwood, or to go elsewhere? 'To stay, I answered, quickly. 'You are sure? 'If you please. If I may! 'Why, it's but a dull life that we lead here, boy, I am afraid, he said. 'Not more dull for me than Agnes, sir. Not dull at all!
'I shall have nothing to think of then, said the Doctor, with a smile, 'but my Dictionary; and this other contract-bargain Annie. As Mr. Wickfield glanced towards her, sitting at the tea table by Agnes, she seemed to me to avoid his look with such unwonted hesitation and timidity, that his attention became fixed upon her, as if something were suggested to his thoughts.
Wickfield again laying his irresolute hand upon the Doctor's arm, 'don't attach too much weight to any suspicions I may have entertained. 'There! cried Uriah, shaking his head. 'What a melancholy confirmation: ain't it? Him! Such an old friend! 'My dear Strong, said Mr.
He had a very agreeable face, and, I thought, was handsome. There was a certain richness in his complexion, which I had been long accustomed, under Peggotty's tuition, to connect with port wine; and I fancied it was in his voice too, and referred his growing corpulency to the same cause. 'This is my nephew, said my aunt. 'Wasn't aware you had one, Miss Trotwood, said Mr. Wickfield.
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