who was perfectly indifferent to
While I advanced in friendship and intimacy with Mr. Dick, I did not go backward in the favour of his staunch friend, my aunt. She took so kindly to me, that, in the course of a few weeks, she shortened my adopted name of Trotwood into Trot; and even encouraged me to hope, that if I went on as I had begun, I might take equal rank in her affections with my sister Betsey Trotwood.
‘Trot,’ said my aunt one evening, when the backgammon-board was placed as usual for herself and Mr. Dick, ‘we must not forget your education.’
This was my only subject of anxiety, and I felt quite delighted by her referring to it.
‘Should you like to go to school at Canterbury?’ said my aunt.
I replied that I should like it very much, as it was so near her.
‘Good,’ said my aunt. ‘Should you like to go tomorrow?’
Being already no stranger to the general rapidity of my aunt’s evolutions, I was not surprised by the suddenness of the proposal, and said: ‘Yes.’
‘Good,’ said my aunt again. ‘Janet, hire the grey pony and chaise tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, and pack up Master Trotwood’s clothes tonight.’
I was greatly elated by these orders; but my heart smote me for my selfishness, when I witnessed their effect on Mr. Dick, who was so low-spirited at the prospect of our separation, and played so ill in consequence, that my aunt, after giving him several admonitory raps on the knuckles with her dice-box, shut up the board, and declined to play with him any more. But, on hearing from my aunt that I should sometimes come over on a Saturday, and that he could sometimes come and see me on a Wednesday, he revived; and vowed to make another kite for those occasions, of proportions greatly surpassing the present one. In the morning he was downhearted again, and would have sustained himself by giving me all the money he had in his possession, gold and silver too, if my aunt had not interposed, and limited the gift to five shillings, which, at his earnest petition, were afterwards increased to ten. We parted at the garden-gate in a most affectionate manner, and Mr. Dick did not go into the house until my aunt had driven me out of sight of it.
My aunt, who was perfectly indifferent to public opinion, drove the grey pony through Dover in a masterly manner; sitting high and stiff like a state coachman, keeping a steady eye upon him wherever he went, and making a point of not letting him have his own way in any respect. When we came into the country road, she permitted him to relax a little, however; and looking at me down in a valley of cushion by her side, asked me whether I was happy?
‘Very happy indeed, thank you, aunt,’ I said.
She was much gratified; and both her hands being occupied, patted me on the head with her whip.
‘Is it a large school, aunt?’ I asked.
‘Why, I don’t know,’ said my aunt. ‘We are going to Mr. Wickfield’s first.’
‘Does he keep a school?’ I asked.
‘No, Trot,’ said my aunt. ‘He keeps an office.’
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