“God bless her, she is as easily scared as a bird,” said I. “It might be! Or if the two Miss Spenlows (elderly ladies of that sort are odd characters sometimes) should not be likely persons to address in that way!”

“I don’t think, Trotwood,” returned Agnes, raising her soft eyes to mine, “I would consider that. Perhaps it would be better only to consider whether it is right to do this; and, if it is, to do it.”

I had no longer any doubt on the subject. With a lightened heart, though with a profound sense of the weighty importance of my task, I devoted the whole afternoon to the composition of the draft of this letter; for which great purpose, Agnes relinquished her desk to me. But first I went downstairs to see Mr. Wickfield and Uriah Heep.