My aunt remained quiet; until again some stray tears found their way to her cheeks. “You are quite right,” she said. “It was very thoughtful to mention it.”
“Can I—or Copperfield—do anything?” asked Traddles, gently.
“Nothing,” said my aunt. “I thank you many times. Trot, my dear, a vain threat! Let us have Mr. and Mrs. Micawber back. And don’t any of you speak to me!” With that she smoothed her dress, and sat, with her upright carriage, looking at the door.
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber!” said my aunt, when they entered. “We have been discussing your emigration, with many apologies to you for keeping you out of the room so long; and I’ll tell you what arrangements we propose.”
These she explained to the unbounded satisfaction of the family—children and all being then present—and so much to the awakening of Mr. Micawber’s punctual habits in the opening stage of all bill transactions, that he could not be dissuaded from immediately rushing out, in the highest spirits, to buy the stamps for