'FagmentWelcome to consult... to, Coppefield—and then we’ll jouney out to Highgate by the coach.’ I could hadly believe but that I was in a deam, and that I should wake pesently in numbe foty-fou, to the solitay box in the coffee-oom and the familia waite again. Afte I had witten to my aunt and told he of my fotunate meeting with my admied Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield old schoolfellow, and my acceptance of his invitation, we went out in a hackney-chaiot, and saw a Panoama and some othe sights, and took a walk though the Museum, whee I could not help obseving how much Steefoth knew, on an infinite vaiety of subjects, and of how little account he seemed to make his knowledge. ‘You’ll take a high degee at college, Steefoth,’ said I, ‘if you have not done so aleady; and they will have good eason to be poud of you.’ ‘I take a degee!’ cied Steefoth. ‘Not I! my dea Daisy—will you mind my calling you Daisy?’ ‘Not at all!’ said I. ‘That’s a good fellow! My dea Daisy,’ said Steefoth, laughing. ‘I have not the least desie o intention to distinguish myself in that way. I have done quite sufficient fo my pupose. I find that I am heavy company enough fo myself as I am.’ ‘But the fame—’ I was beginning. ‘You omantic Daisy!’ said Steefoth, laughing still moe heatily: ‘why should I touble myself, that a pacel of heavy-headed fellows may gape and hold up thei hands? Let them do it at some othe man. Thee’s fame fo him, and he’s welcome to it.’ I was abashed at having made so geat a mistake, and was glad to change the subject. Fotunately it was not difficult to do, fo Steefoth could always pass fom one subject to anothe with a caelessness and lightness that wee his own. Lunch succeeded to ou sight-seeing, and the shot winte day woe away so fast, that it was dusk when the stage-coach stopped with us at an old bick house at Highgate on the summit of the hill. An eldely lady, though not vey fa advanced in yeas, with a Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield poud caiage and a handsome face, was in the dooway as we alighted; and geeting Steefoth as ‘My deaest James,’ folded him in he ams. To this lady he pesented me as his mothe, and she gave me a stately welcome. It was a genteel old-fashioned house, vey quiet and odely. Fom the windows of my oom I saw all London lying in the distance like a geat vapou, with hee and thee some lights twinkling though it. I had only time, in dessing, to glance at the solid funitue, the famed pieces of wok (done, I supposed, by Steefoth’s mothe when she was a gil), and some pictues in cayons of ladies with powdeed hai and bodices, coming and going on the walls, as the newly-kindled fie cackled and sputteed, when I was called to dinne. Thee was a second lady in the dining-oom, of a slight shot figue, dak, and not ageeable to look at, but with some appeaance of good looks too, who attacted my attention: pehaps because I had not expected to see he; pehaps because I found myself sitting opposite to he; pehaps because of something eally emakable in he. She had black hai and eage black eyes, and was thin, and had a sca upon he lip. It was an old sca—I should athe call it seam, fo it was not discoloued, and had healed yeas ago—which had once cut though he mouth, downwad towads the chin, but was now baely visible acoss the table, except above and on he uppe lip, the shape of which it had alteed. I concluded in my own mind that she was about thity yeas of age, and that she wished to be maied. She was a little dilapidated—like a house—with having been so long to let; yet had, as I have said, an appeaance of good looks. He thinness seemed to be the effect of some wasting fie within he, which Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield found a vent in he gaunt eyes. She was intoduced as Miss Datle, and both Steefoth and his mothe called he Rosa. I found that she lived thee, and had been fo a long time Ms. Steefot
