ir--find one, and take
your flight to Heaven!'

I heard a distant foot upon the stairs. I knew it, I was certain. It was
his, thank God!

She moved slowly from before the door when she said this, and passed out
of my sight.

'But mark!' she added, slowly and sternly, opening the other door to
go away, 'I am resolved, for reasons that I have and hatreds that
I entertain, to cast you out, unless you withdraw from my reach
altogether, or drop your pretty mask. This is what I had to say; and
what I say, I mean to do!'

The foot upon the stairs came nearer--nearer--passed her as she went
down--rushed into the room!

'Uncle!'

A fearful cry followed the word. I paused a moment, and looking in, saw
him supporting her insensible figure in his arms. He gazed for a few
seconds in the face; then stooped to kiss it--oh, how tenderly!--and
drew a handkerchief before it.

'Mas'r Davy,' he said, in a low tremulous voice, when it was covered, 'I
thank my Heav'nly Father as my dream's come true! I thank Him hearty for
having guided of me, in His own ways, to my darling!'

With those words he took her up in his arms; and, with the veiled
face lying on his bosom, and addressed towards his own, carried her,
motionless and unconscious, down the stairs.

CHAPTER 51. THE BEGINNING OF A LONGER JOURNEY

It was yet early in the morning of the following day, when, as I was
walking in my garden with my aunt (who took little other exercise
now, being so much in attendance on my dear Dora), I was told that Mr.
Peggotty desired to speak with me. He came into the garden to meet me
half-way, on my going towards the gate; and bared his head, as it was
always his custom to do when he saw my aunt, for whom he had a high
respect. I had been telling her all that had happened overnight. Without
saying a word, she walked up with a cordial face, shook hands with him,
and patted him on the arm. It was so expressively done, that she had no
need to say a word. Mr. Peggotty understood her quite as well as if she
had said a thousand.

'I'll go in now, Trot,' said my aunt, 'and look after Little Blossom,
who will be getting up presently.'

'Not along of my being heer, ma'am, I hope?' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Unless
my wits is gone a bahd's neezing'--by which Mr. Peggotty meant to say,
bird's-nesting--'this morning, 'tis along of me as you're a-going to
quit us?'

'You have something to say, my good friend,' returned my aunt, 'and will
do better w