“They will emigrate together, aunt,” said I.
“Yes!” said Mr. Peggotty, with a hopeful smile. “No one can’t reproach my darling in Australia. We will begin a new life over theer!”
I asked him if he yet proposed to himself any time for going away.
“I was down at the Docks early this morning, sir,” he returned, “to get information concerning of them ships. In about six weeks or two months from now, there’ll be one sailing—I see her this morning—went aboard—and we shall take our passage in her.”
“Quite alone?” I asked.
“Aye, Mas’r Davy!” he returned. “My sister, you see, she’s that fond of you and yourn, and that accustomed to think on’y of her own country, that it wouldn’t be hardly fair to let her go. Besides which, theer’s one she has in charge, Mas’r Davy, as doen’t ought to be forgot.”
“Poor Ham!” said I.
“My good sister takes care of his house, you see, ma’am, and he takes kindly to her,” Mr. Peggotty