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‘
Certainly
,
Dora
first
,
I
hope
,
’
said
Agnes
,
laughing
.
‘
But
you
next
!
’
said
I
.
‘
Where
are
you
going
?
’
She
was
going
to
my
rooms
to
see
my
aunt
.
The
day
being
very
fine
,
she
was
glad
to
come
out
of
the
chariot
,
which
smelt
(
I
had
my
head
in
it
all
this
time
)
like
a
stable
put
under
a
cucumber
-
frame
.
I
dismissed
the
coachman
,
and
she
took
my
arm
,
and
we
walked
on
together
.
Отключить рекламу
She
was
like
Hope
embodied
,
to
me
.
How
different
I
felt
in
one
short
minute
,
having
Agnes
at
my
side
!
My
aunt
had
written
her
one
of
the
odd
,
abrupt
notes
—
very
little
longer
than
a
Bank
note
—
to
which
her
epistolary
efforts
were
usually
limited
.
She
had
stated
therein
that
she
had
fallen
into
adversity
,
and
was
leaving
Dover
for
good
,
but
had
quite
made
up
her
mind
to
it
,
and
was
so
well
that
nobody
need
be
uncomfortable
about
her
.
Agnes
had
come
to
London
to
see
my
aunt
,
between
whom
and
herself
there
had
been
a
mutual
liking
these
many
years
:
indeed
,
it
dated
from
the
time
of
my
taking
up
my
residence
in
Mr
.
Wickfield
’
s
house
.
She
was
not
alone
,
she
said
.
Her
papa
was
with
her
—
and
Uriah
Heep
.
‘
And
now
they
are
partners
,
’
said
I
.
‘
Confound
him
!
’
‘
Yes
,
’
said
Agnes
.
‘
They
have
some
business
here
;
and
I
took
advantage
of
their
coming
,
to
come
too
.
You
must
not
think
my
visit
all
friendly
and
disinterested
,
Trotwood
,
for
—
I
am
afraid
I
may
be
cruelly
prejudiced
—
I
do
not
like
to
let
papa
go
away
alone
,
with
him
.
’
‘
Does
he
exercise
the
same
influence
over
Mr
.
Wickfield
still
,
Agnes
?
’
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Agnes
shook
her
head
.
‘
There
is
such
a
change
at
home
,
’
said
she
,
‘
that
you
would
scarcely
know
the
dear
old
house
.
They
live
with
us
now
.
’
‘
They
?
’
said
I
.
‘
Mr
.
Heep
and
his
mother
.
He
sleeps
in
your
old
room
,
’
said
Agnes
,
looking
up
into
my
face
.