No attempt at defiance being made, however, her face gradually relaxed, and became so pleasant that I was emboldened to kiss and thank her; which I did with great heartiness, and with both my arms clasped round her neck. I then shook hands with Mr. Dick, who shook hands with me a great many times, and hailed this happy close of the proceedings with repeated bursts of laughter.
"You'll consider yourself guardian, jointly with me, of this child, Mr. Dick," said my aunt.
"I shall be delighted," said Mr. Dick, "to be the guardian of David's son."
"Very good," returned my aunt, "that's settled. I have been thinking, do you know, Mr. Dick, that I might call him Trotwood?"
"Yes, to be sure. Trotwood Copperfield," said Mr. Dick.
My aunt took so kindly to the notion, that some ready-made clothes, which were purchased for me the next day, were marked "Trotwood Copperfield," in her own handwriting, and in indelible marking-ink, before I put them on.
Thus I began my new life, in a new name, and with everything new about me. Now that the state of doubt was over, I felt, for many days, like one in a dream. I never thought that I had a curious couple of guardians in my aunt and Mr. Dick. I never thought of anything about myself, distinctly. While a remoteness had come upon the old life—which seemed to lie in the haze of an immeasurable distance.
In my new life I was to realize some of my youthful ambitions. I was to struggle, perhaps, but I was to succeed. And I was to find that my aunt—for all her gruff exterior—had a heart of gold.
But whatever there was of happiness or of sorrow, of success or of failure, in my new life, does not belong to these pages. The identity of the child, and of the boy, David Copperfield, is now forever merged in the personality of Trotwood Copperfield, Esquire, the Prospective Man.
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