She took out an old black silk handkerchief and wiped her eyes; but instead of putting it in her pocket, kept it out, and wiped them again, and still kept it out, ready for use.

“What’s amiss, dame!” said Mr. Peggotty.

“Nothing,” returned Mrs. Gummidge. “You’ve come from The Willing Mind, Dan‘l?”

“Why yes, I’ve took a short spell at The Willing Mind tonight,” said Mr. Peggotty.

“I’m sorry I should drive you there,” said Mrs. Gummidge.

“Drivel I don’t want no driving,” returned Mr. Peggotty with an honest laugh. “I only go too ready.”

“Very ready,” said Mrs. Gummidge, shaking her head, and wiping her eyes. “Yes, yes, very ready. I am sorry it should be along of me that you’re so ready.”

“Along o’ you! It an’t along o’ youl” said Mr. Peggotty. “Don’t ye believe a bit on it.”

“Yes, yes, it is,” cried Mrs. Gummidge. “I know what I am. I know that I am a lone lorn creetur‘, and not only that everythink goes contrairy with me, but I go contrairy with everybody. Yes, yes, I feel more than other people do, and I show it more. It’s my misfortun’.”

I really coudn’t help thinking, as I sat taking in all this, that the misfortune extended to some other members of that family besides Mrs. Gummidge. But Mr. Peggotty made no such retort, only answering with another entreaty to Mrs. Gummidge to cheer up.

“I an’t what I could wish myself to be,” said Mrs. Gummidge. “I am far from it. I know what I am. My troubles has made me contrairy. I feel my troubles, and they make me contrairy. I wish I didn’t feel ‘em, but I do. I wish I could be hardened to ’em, but I an’t. I make the house uncomfortable.