It made me very miserable to hear it, and I looked at Mrs. Micawber’s red eyes with the utmost sympathy. “With the exception of the heel of a Dutch cheese--which is not adapted to the wants of a young family,” said Mrs. Micawber--“there is really not a scrap of anything in the larder. I was accustomed to speak of the larder when I lived with papa and mama, and I use the word almost unconsciously. What I mean to express is, that there is nothing to eat in the house.” “Dear me!” I said, in great concern. I had two or three shillings of my week’s money in my pocket--from which I presume that it must have been on a Wednesday night when we held this conversation--and I hastily produced them, and with heartfelt emotion begged Mrs. Micawber to accept of them as a loan. But that lady, kissing me, and making me put them back in my pocket, replied that she couldn’t think of it. “No, my dear Master Copperfield,” said she, “far be it from my thoughts! But you have a discretion beyond your years, and can render me another kind of service, if you will; and a service I will thankfully accept of.” I begged Mrs. Micawber to name it. “I have parted with the plate myself,” said Mrs. Micawber. “Six tea, two salt, and a pair of sugars, I have at different times borrowed money on, in secret, with my own hands. But the twins are a great tie; and to me, with my recollections of papa and mama, these transactions are very painful. There are still a few trifles that we could part with. Mr. Micawber’s feelings would never allow _him_ to dispose of them; and Clickett”--this was the girl from the workhouse--“being of a vulgar mind, would take painful liberties if so much confidence was reposed in her. Master Copperfield, if I might ask you----” I understood Mrs. Micawber now, and begged her to make use of me to any extent. I began to dispose of the more portable articles of property that very evening; and went out on a similar expedition almost every morning, before I went to Murdstone and Grinby’s. * * * * * At last Mr. Micawber’s affairs got into such a bad state that he had to leave London. David tells of the parting. * * * * * I passed my evenings with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber, during the remaining term of our residence under the same roof; and I think we became fonder of one another as the time went on. On the last Sunday, they invited me to dinner; and we had a loin of pork and apple sauce, and a pudding. I had bought a spotted wooden horse overnight as a parting gift to little Wilkins Micawber--that was the boy--and a doll for little Emma. I had also bestowed a shilling on the Orfling, who was about to be disbanded. We had a very pleasant day, though we were all in a tender state about our approaching separation.