ace with his
pocket-handkerchief, which I think had more snuff upon it than he
was aware of. He then returned to the punch, in the highest state of
exhilaration.

He was full of eloquence. He gave us to understand that in our children
we lived again, and that, under the pressure of pecuniary difficulties,
any accession to their number was doubly welcome. He said that Mrs.
Micawber had latterly had her doubts on this point, but that he had
dispelled them, and reassured her. As to her family, they were totally
unworthy of her, and their sentiments were utterly indifferent to him,
and they might--I quote his own expression--go to the Devil.

Mr. Micawber then delivered a warm eulogy on Traddles. He said
Traddles's was a character, to the steady virtues of which he (Mr.
Micawber) could lay no claim, but which, he thanked Heaven, he could
admire. He feelingly alluded to the young lady, unknown, whom Traddles
had honoured with his affection, and who had reciprocated that affection
by honouring and blessing Traddles with her affection. Mr. Micawber
pledged her. So did I. Traddles thanked us both, by saying, with a
simplicity and honesty I had sense enough to be quite charmed with,
'I am very much obliged to you indeed. And I do assure you, she's the
dearest girl!--'

Mr. Micawber took an early opportunity, after that, of hinting, with the
utmost delicacy and ceremony, at the state of MY affections. Nothing
but the serious assurance of his friend Copperfield to the contrary,
he observed, could deprive him of the impression that his friend
Copperfield loved and was beloved. After feeling very hot and
uncomfortable for some time, and after a good deal of blushing,
stammering, and denying, I said, having my glass in my hand, 'Well! I
would give them D.!' which so excited and gratified Mr. Micawber,
that he ran with a glass of punch into my bedroom, in order that Mrs.
Micawber might drink D., who drank it with enthusiasm, crying from
within, in a shrill voice, 'Hear, hear! My dear Mr. Copperfield, I am
delighted. Hear!' and tapping at the wall, by way of applause.

Our conversation, afterwards, took a more worldly turn; Mr. Micawber
telling us that he found Camden Town inconvenient, and that the first
thing he contemplated doing, when the advertisement should have been the
cause of something satisfactory turning up, was to move. He mentioned
a terrace at the western end of Oxford Street, fronting Hyde Park, on
which he had alw