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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 588/820
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My
aunt
nodded
encouragement
.
‘
You
must
have
patience
,
Trot
,
’
said
she
.
‘
Of
course
.
Heaven
knows
I
don
’
t
mean
to
be
unreasonable
,
aunt
!
’
‘
No
,
no
,
’
said
my
aunt
.
‘
But
Little
Blossom
is
a
very
tender
little
blossom
,
and
the
wind
must
be
gentle
with
her
.
’
I
thanked
my
good
aunt
,
in
my
heart
,
for
her
tenderness
towards
my
wife
;
and
I
was
sure
that
she
knew
I
did
.
‘
Don
’
t
you
think
,
aunt
,
’
said
I
,
after
some
further
contemplation
of
the
fire
,
‘
that
you
could
advise
and
counsel
Dora
a
little
,
for
our
mutual
advantage
,
now
and
then
?
’
‘
Trot
,
’
returned
my
aunt
,
with
some
emotion
,
‘
no
!
Don
’
t
ask
me
such
a
thing
.
’
Her
tone
was
so
very
earnest
that
I
raised
my
eyes
in
surprise
.
‘
I
look
back
on
my
life
,
child
,
’
said
my
aunt
,
‘
and
I
think
of
some
who
are
in
their
graves
,
with
whom
I
might
have
been
on
kinder
terms
.
If
I
judged
harshly
of
other
people
’
s
mistakes
in
marriage
,
it
may
have
been
because
I
had
bitter
reason
to
judge
harshly
of
my
own
.
Let
that
pass
.
I
have
been
a
grumpy
,
frumpy
,
wayward
sort
of
a
woman
,
a
good
many
years
.
I
am
still
,
and
I
always
shall
be
.
But
you
and
I
have
done
one
another
some
good
,
Trot
,
—
at
all
events
,
you
have
done
me
good
,
my
dear
;
and
division
must
not
come
between
us
,
at
this
time
of
day
.
’
‘
Division
between
us
!
’
cried
I
.
