h, DON'T!' pleaded Dora. 'Please!'

'Are you not my own for ever, Dora?'

'Oh yes, of course I am!' cried Dora, 'but I am so frightened!'

'Frightened, my own?'

'Oh yes! I don't like him,' said Dora. 'Why don't he go?'

'Who, my life?'

'Your friend,' said Dora. 'It isn't any business of his. What a stupid
he must be!'

'My love!' (There never was anything so coaxing as her childish ways.)
'He is the best creature!'

'Oh, but we don't want any best creatures!' pouted Dora.

'My dear,' I argued, 'you will soon know him well, and like him of all
things. And here is my aunt coming soon; and you'll like her of all
things too, when you know her.'

'No, please don't bring her!' said Dora, giving me a horrified
little kiss, and folding her hands. 'Don't. I know she's a naughty,
mischief-making old thing! Don't let her come here, Doady!' which was a
corruption of David.

Remonstrance was of no use, then; so I laughed, and admired, and was
very much in love and very happy; and she showed me Jip's new trick of
standing on his hind legs in a corner--which he did for about the space
of a flash of lightning, and then fell down--and I don't know how long I
should have stayed there, oblivious of Traddles, if Miss Lavinia had not
come in to take me away. Miss Lavinia was very fond of Dora (she told
me Dora was exactly like what she had been herself at her age--she must
have altered a good deal), and she treated Dora just as if she had been
a toy. I wanted to persuade Dora to come and see Traddles, but on my
proposing it she ran off to her own room and locked herself in; so I
went to Traddles without her, and walked away with him on air.

'Nothing could be more satisfactory,' said Traddles; 'and they are very
agreeable old ladies, I am sure. I shouldn't be at all surprised if you
were to be married years before me, Copperfield.'

'Does your Sophy play on any instrument, Traddles?' I inquired, in the
pride of my heart.

'She knows enough of the piano to teach it to her little sisters,' said
Traddles.

'Does she sing at all?' I asked.

'Why, she sings ballads, sometimes, to freshen up the others a little
when they're out of spirits,' said Traddles. 'Nothing scientific.'

'She doesn't sing to the guitar?' said I.

'Oh dear no!' said Traddles.

'Paint at all?'

'Not at all,' said Traddles.

I promised Traddles that he should hear Dora sing, and see some of her
flower-painting. He said he should like it very much