I shall be
remembered by little Em'ly, a good many years to come." "I begin to have
my doubts of being able to join you" (20th of February), "for
_Copperfield_ runs high, and must be done to-morrow. But I'll do it if
possible, and strain every nerve. Some beautiful comic love, I hope, in
the number." "Still undecided about Dora" (7th of May), "but MUST decide
to-day."[163] "I have been" (Tuesday, 20th of August) "very hard at work
these three days, and have still Dora to kill. But with good luck, I may
do it to-morrow. Obliged to go to Shepherd's-bush to-day, and can
consequently do little this morning. Am eschewing all sorts of things
that present themselves to my fancy--coming in such crowds!" "Work in a
very decent state of advancement" (13th of August) "domesticity
notwithstanding. I hope I shall have a splendid number. I feel the story
to its minutest point." "Mrs. Micawber is still" (15th of August), "I
regret to say, in statu quo. Ever yours, WILKINS MICAWBER." The little
girl was born the next day, the 16th, and received the name of Dora
Annie. The most part of what remained of the year was passed away from
home.

The year following did not open with favourable omen, both the child and
its mother having severe illness. The former rallied however, and
"little Dora is getting on bravely, thank God!" was his bulletin of the
early part of February. Soon after, it was resolved to make trial of
Great Malvern for Mrs. Dickens; and lodgings were taken there in March,
Dickens and her sister accompanying her, and the children being left in
London. "It is a most beautiful place," he wrote to me (15th of March).
"O Heaven, to meet the Cold Waterers (as I did this morning when I went
out for a shower-bath) dashing down the hills, with severe expressions
on their countenances, like men doing matches and not exactly winning!
Then, a young lady in a grey polka going _up_ the hills, regardless of
legs; and meeting a young gentleman (a bad case, I should say) with a
light black silk cap on under his hat, and the pimples of I don't know
how many douches under that. Likewise an old man who ran over a
milk-child, rather than stop!--with no neckcloth, on principle; and with
his mouth wide open, to catch the morning air." This was the month, as
we have seen, when the performances for the Guild were in active
preparation, and it was also the date of the farewell dinner to our
friend Macready on his quitting the stage. Dickens and myse