David Copperfield

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Book by Charles Dickens - David Copperfield, page 67

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'I never, never, never was so glad! My dear Steerforth, I am so
overjoyed to see you!'

'And I am rejoiced to see you, too!' he said, shaking my hands
heartily. 'Why, Copperfield, old boy, don't be overpowered!' And
yet he was glad, too, I thought, to see how the delight I had in
meeting him affected me.

I brushed away the tears that my utmost resolution had not been
able to keep back, and I made a clumsy laugh of it, and we sat down
together, side by side.

'Why, how do you come to be here?' said Steerforth, clapping me on
the shoulder.

'I came here by the Canterbury coach, today. I have been adopted
by an aunt down in that part of the country, and have just finished
my education there. How do YOU come to be here, Steerforth?'

'Well, I am what they call an Oxford man,' he returned; 'that is to
say, I get bored to death down there, periodically - and I am on my
way now to my mother's. You're a devilish amiable-looking fellow,
Copperfield. just what you used to be, now I look at you! Not
altered in the least!'

'I knew you immediately,' I said; 'but you are more easily
remembered.'

He laughed as he ran his hand through the clustering curls of his
hair, and said gaily:

'Yes, I am on an expedition of duty. My mother lives a little way
out of town; and the roads being in a beastly condition, and our
house tedious enough, I remained here tonight instead of going on.
I have not been in town half-a-dozen hours, and those I have been
dozing and grumbling away at the play.'

'I have been at the play, too,' said I. 'At Covent Garden. What
a delightful and magnificent entertainment, Steerforth!'

Steerforth laughed heartily.

'My dear young Davy,' he said, clapping me on the shoulder again,
'you are a very Daisy. The daisy of the field, at sunrise, is not
fresher than you are. I have been at Covent Garden, too, and there
never was a more miserable business. Holloa, you sir!'

This was addressed to the waiter, who had been very attentive to
our recognition, at a distance, and now came forward deferentially.

'Where have you put my friend, Mr. Copperfield?' said Steerforth.

'Beg your pardon, sir?'

'Where does he sleep? What's his number? You know what I mean,'
said Steerforth.

'Well, sir,' said the waiter, with an apologetic air. 'Mr.
Copperfield is at present in forty-four, sir.'

'And what the devil do you mean,' retorted Steerforth, 'by putting
Mr. Copperfield into a little loft over a stable?'

'Why, you see we wasn't aware, sir,' returned the waiter, still
apologetically, 'as Mr. Copperfield was anyways particular. We can
give Mr. Copperfield seventy-two, sir, if it would be preferred.
Next you, sir.'

'Of course it would be preferred,' said Steerforth. 'And do it at
once.'
The waiter immediately withdrew to make the exchange. Steerforth,
very much amused at my having been put into forty-four, laughed
again, and clapped me on the shoulder again, and invited me to
breakfast with him next morning at ten o'clock - an invitation I
was only too proud and happy to accept. It being now pretty late,
we took our candles and went upstairs, where we parted with
friendly heartiness at his door, and where I found my new room a
great improvement on my old one, it not being at all musty, and
having an immense four-post bedstead in it, which was quite a
little landed estate. Here, among pillows enough for six, I soon
fell asleep in a blissful condition, and dreamed of ancient Rome,
Steerforth, and friendship, until the early morning coaches,
rumbling out of the archway underneath, made me dream of thunder
and the gods.

CHAPTER 20
STEERFORTH'S HOME

When the chambermaid tapped at my door at eight o'clock, and
informed me that my shaving-water was outside, I felt severely the
having no occasion for it, and blushed in my bed. The suspicion
that she laughed too, when she said it, preyed upon my mind all the
time I was dressing; and gave me, I was conscious, a sneaking and
guilty air when I passed her on the staircase, as I was going down
to breakfast. I was so sensitively aware, indeed, of being younger
than I could have wished, that for some time I could not make up my
mind to pass her at all, under the ignoble circumstances of the
case; but, hearing her there with a broom, stood peeping out of
window at King Charles on horseback, surrounded by a maze of
hackney-coaches, and looking anything but regal in a drizzling rain
and a dark-brown fog, until I was admonished by the waiter that the
gentleman was waiting for me.

It was not in the coffee-room that I found Steerforth expecting me,
but in a snug private apartment, red-curtained and Turkey-carpeted,
where the fire burnt bright, and a fine hot breakfast was set forth
on a table covered with a clean cloth; and a cheerful miniature of
the room, the fire, the breakfast, Steerforth, and all, was shining
in the little round mirror over the sideboard. I was rather
bashful at first, Steerforth being so self-possessed, and elegant,
and superior to me in all respects (age included); but his easy
patronage soon put that to rights, and made me quite at home. I
could not enough admire the change he had wrought in the Golden
Cross; or compare the dull forlorn state I had held yesterday, with
this morning's comfort and this morning's entertainment. As to the
waiter's familiarity, it was quenched as if it had never been. He
attended on us, as I may say, in sackcloth and ashes.

'Now, Copperfield,' said Steerforth, when we were alone, 'I should
like to hear what you are doing, and where you are going, and all
about you. I feel as if you were my property.'
Glowing with pleasure to find that he had still this interest in
me, I told him how my aunt had proposed the little expedition that
I had before me, and whither it tended.

'As you are in no hurry, then,' said Steerforth, 'come home with me
to Highgate, and stay a day or two. You will be pleased with my
mother - she is a little vain and prosy about me, but that you can
forgive her - and she will be pleased with you.'

'I should like to be as sure of that, as you are kind enough to say
you are,' I answered, smiling.

'Oh!' said Steerforth, 'everyone who likes me, has a claim on her
that is sure to be acknowledged.'

'Then I think I shall be a favourite,' said I.

'Good!' said Steerforth. 'Come and prove it. We will go and see
the lions for an hour or two - it's something to have a fresh
fellow like you to show them to, Copperfield - and then we'll
journey out to Highgate by the coach.'

I could hardly believe but that I was in a dream, and that I should
wake presently in number forty-four, to the solitary box in the
coffee-room and the familiar waiter again. After I had written to
my aunt and told her of my fortunate meeting with my admired old
schoolfellow, and my acceptance of his invitation, we went out in
a hackney-chariot, and saw a Panorama and some other sights, and
took a walk through the Museum, where I could not help observing
how much Steerforth knew, on an infinite variety of subjects, and
of how little account he seemed to make his knowledge.

'You'll take a high degree at college, Steerforth,' said I, 'if you
have not done so already; and they will have good reason to be
proud of you.'

'I take a degree!' cried Steerforth. 'Not I! my dear Daisy - will
you mind my calling you Daisy?'

'Not at all!' said I.

'That's a good fellow! My dear Daisy,' said Steerforth, laughing.
'I have not the least desire or intention to distinguish myself in
that way. I have done quite sufficient for my purpose. I find
that I am heavy company enough for myself as I am.'

'But the fame -' I was beginning.

'You romantic Daisy!' said Steerforth, laughing still more
heartily: 'why should I trouble myself, that a parcel of
heavy-headed fellows may gape and hold up their hands? Let them do
it at some other man. There's fame for him, and he's welcome to
it.'

I was abashed at having made so great a mistake, and was glad to
change the subject. Fortunately it was not difficult to do, for
Steerforth could always pass from one subject to another with a
carelessness and lightness that were his own.

Lunch succeeded to our sight-seeing, and the short winter day wore
away so fast, that it was dusk when the stage-coach stopped with us
at an old brick house at Highgate on the summit of the hill. An
elderly lady, though not very far advanced in years, with a proud
carriage and a handsome face, was in the doorway as we alighted;
and greeting Steerforth as 'My dearest James,' folded him in her
arms. To this lady he presented me as his mother, and she gave me
a stately welcome.

It was a genteel old-fashioned house, very quiet and orderly. From
the windows of my room I saw all London lying in the distance like
a great vapour, with here and there some lights twinkling through
it. I had only time, in dressing, to glance at the solid
furniture, the framed pieces of work (done, I supposed, by
Steerforth's mother when she was a girl), and some pictures in
crayons of ladies with powdered hair and bodices, coming and going
on the walls, as the newly-kindled fire crackled and sputtered,
when I was called to dinner.




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   Monday 01 December, 2008