“I shall never, Master Copperfield,” said Mrs. Micawber, “revert to the period when Mr. Micawber was in difficulties, without thinking of you. Your conduct has always been of the most delicate and obliging description. You have never been a lodger. You have been a friend.”

“My dear,” said Mr. Micawber; “Copperfield,” for so he had been accustomed to call me, of late, “has a heart to feel for the distresses of his fellow-creatures when they are behind a cloud, and a head to plan, and a hand to⁠—in short, a general ability to dispose of such available property as could be made away with.”

I expressed my sense of this commendation, and said I was very sorry we were going to lose one another.