I shook hands with Mr. Peggotty, and passed into the kitchen, while he softly closed the door. Little Emily was sitting by the fire, with her hands before her face. Ham was standing near her.

We spoke in whispers; listening, between whiles, for any sound in the room above. I had not thought of it on the occasion of my last visit, but how strange it was to me, now, to miss Mr. Barkis out of the kitchen!

“This is very kind of you, Mas’r Davy,” said Mr. Peggotty.

“It’s oncommon kind,” said Ham.

“Em’ly, my dear,” cried Mr. Peggotty. “See here! Here’s Mas’r Davy come! What, cheer up, pretty! Not a wured to Mas’r Davy?”