said, in a sonorous voice:
“Miss Trotwood, Mr. David Copperfield, Mr. Thomas Traddles, and Mr. Dixon!”
I had not seen Uriah Heep since the time of the blow. Our visit astonished him, evidently; not the less, I dare say, because it astonished ourselves. He did not gather his eyebrows together, for he had none worth mentioning; but he frowned to that degree that he almost closed his small eyes, while the hurried raising of his grisly hand to his chin betrayed some trepidation or surprise. This was only when we were in the act of entering his room, and when I caught a glance at him over my aunt’s shoulder. A moment afterwards, he was as fawning and as humble as ever.
“Well, I am sure,” he said. “This is indeed an unexpected pleasure! To have, as I may say, all friends round St. Paul’s at once, is a treat unlooked for! Mr. Copperfield, I hope I see you well, and—if I may ’umbly express myself so—friendly towards them as is ever your friends, whether or not. Mrs. Copperfield, sir, I hope she’s getting on. We have been made quite uneasy by the poor accounts we have had of her state, lately, I do assure you.”
I felt ashamed to let him take my hand, but I did not know yet what else to do.
“Things are changed in this office, Miss Trotwood, since I was an ’umble clerk, and held your pony; ain’t they?” said Uriah, with his sickliest smile. “But I am not changed, Miss Trotwood.”
“Well, sir,” returned my aunt, “to tell you the truth, I think you are pretty constant to the promise of your youth; if that’s any satisfaction to you.”