When the chambermaid tapped at my door at eight o'clock, and informedme that my shaving-water was outside, I felt severely the having nooccasion for it, and blushed in my bed. The suspicion that she laughedtoo, 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 passedher on the staircase, as I was going down to breakfast. I was sosensitively 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, underthe ignoble circumstances of the case; but, hearing her there witha broom, stood peeping out of window at King Charles on horseback,surrounded by a maze of hackney-coaches, and looking anything but regalin a drizzling rain and a dark-brown fog, until I was admonished by thewaiter that the gentleman was waiting for me.

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

'Now, Copperfield,' said Steerforth, when we were alone, 'I should liketo 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 thathe had still this interest in me, I told him how my aunt had proposedthe little expedition that I had before me, and whither it tended.

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

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

'Oh!' said Steerforth, 'everyone who likes me, has a claim on her thatis 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 thelions for an hour or two--it's something to have a fresh fellow like youto show them to, Copperfield--and then we'll journey out to Highgate bythe coach.'

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

'You'll take a high degree at college, Steerforth,' said I, 'if you havenot 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 youmind my calling you Daisy?'

'Not at all!' said I.

'That's a good fellow! My dear Daisy,' said Steerforth, laughing. 'Ihave not the least desire or intention to distinguish myself in thatway. I have done quite sufficient for my purpose. I find that I am heavycompany 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 maygape and hold up their hands? Let them do it at some other man. There'sfame for him, and he's welcome to it.'

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

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

It was a genteel old-fashioned house, very quiet and orderly. From thewindows of my room I saw all London lying in the distance like a greatvapour, with here and there some lights twinkling through it. I had onlytime, in dressing, to glance at the solid furniture, the framed piecesof 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 andsputtered, when I was called to dinner.

There was a second lady in the dining-room, of a slight short figure,dark, and not agreeable to look at, but with some appearance of goodlooks too, who attracted my attention: perhaps because I had notexpected to see her; perhaps because I found myself sitting oppositeto her; perhaps because of something really remarkable in her. She hadblack hair and eager black eyes, and was thin, and had a scar upon herlip. It was an old scar--I should rather call it seam, for it was notdiscoloured, and had healed years ago--which had once cut through hermouth, downward towards the chin, but was now barely visible acrossthe table, except above and on her upper lip, the shape of which it hadaltered. I concluded in my own mind that she was about thirty yearsof age, and that she wished to be married. She was a littledilapidated--like a house--with having been so long to let; yet had, asI have said, an appearance of good looks. Her thinness seemed to be theeffect of some wasting fire within her, which found a vent in her gaunteyes.

She was introduced as Miss Dartle, and both Steerforth and his mothercalled her Rosa. I found that she lived there, and had been for a longtime Mrs. Steerforth's companion. It appeared to me that she never saidanything she wanted to say, outright; but hinted it, and made a greatdeal more of it by this practice. For example, when Mrs. Steerforthobserved, more in jest than earnest, that she feared her son led but awild life at college, Miss Dartle put in thus:

'Oh, really? You know how ignorant I am, and that I only ask forinformation, but isn't it always so? I thought that kind of life wason all hands understood to be--eh?' 'It is education for a very graveprofession, if you mean that, Rosa,' Mrs. Steerforth answered with somecoldness.

'Oh! Yes! That's very true,' returned Miss Dartle. 'But isn't it,though?--I want to be put right, if I am wrong--isn't it, really?'

'Really what?' said Mrs. Steerforth.

'Oh! You mean it's not!' returned Miss Dartle. 'Well, I'm very glad tohear it! Now, I know what to do! That's the advantage of asking. I shallnever allow people to talk before me about wastefulness and profligacy,and so forth, in connexion with that life, any more.'

'And you will be right,' said Mrs. Steerforth. 'My son's tutor is aconscientious gentleman; and if I had not implicit reliance on my son, Ishould have reliance on him.'

'Should you?' said Miss Dartle. 'Dear me! Conscientious, is he? Reallyconscientious, now?'

'Yes, I am convinced of it,' said Mrs. Steerforth.

'How very nice!' exclaimed Miss Dartle. 'What a comfort! Reallyconscientious? Then he's not--but of course he can't be, if he's reallyconscientious. Well, I shall be quite happy in my opinion of him, fromthis time. You can't think how it elevates him in my opinion, to knowfor certain that he's really conscientious!'

Her own views of every question, and her correction of everything thatwas said to which she was opposed, Miss Dartle insinuated in the sameway: sometimes, I could not conceal from myself, with great power,though in contradiction even of Steerforth. An instance happened beforedinner was done. Mrs. Steerforth speaking to me about my intentionof going down into Suffolk, I said at hazard how glad I should be, ifSteerforth would only go there with me; and explaining to him that I wasgoing to see my old nurse, and Mr. Peggotty's family, I reminded him ofthe boatman whom he had seen at school.

'Oh! That bluff fellow!' said Steerforth. 'He had a son with him, hadn'the?'

'No. That was his nephew,' I replied; 'whom he adopted, though, asa son. He has a very pretty little niece too, whom he adopted as adaughter. In short, his house--or rather his boat, for he lives in one,on dry land--is full of people who are objects of his generosity andkindness. You would be delighted to see that household.'

'Should I?' said Steerforth. 'Well, I think I should. I must see whatcan be done. It would be worth a journey (not to mention the pleasure ofa journey with you, Daisy), to see that sort of people together, and tomake one of 'em.'

My heart leaped with a new hope of pleasure. But it was in referenceto the tone in which he had spoken of 'that sort of people', that MissDartle, whose sparkling eyes had been watchful of us, now broke inagain.

'Oh, but, really? Do tell me. Are they, though?' she said.

'Are they what? And are who what?' said Steerforth.

'That sort of people.---Are they really animals and clods, and beings ofanother order? I want to know SO much.'

'Why, there's a pretty wide separation between them and us,' saidSteerforth, with indifference. 'They are not to be expected to beas sensitive as we are. Their delicacy is not to be shocked, or hurteasily. They are wonderfully virtuous, I dare say--some people contendfor that, at least; and I am sure I don't want to contradict them--butthey have not very fine natures, and they may be thankful that, liketheir coarse rough skins, they are not easily wounded.'

'Really!' said Miss Dartle. 'Well, I don't know, now, when I have beenbetter pleased than to hear that. It's so consoling! It's such a delightto know that, when they suffer, they don't feel! Sometimes I have beenquite uneasy for that sort of people; but now I shall just dismiss theidea of them, altogether. Live and learn. I had my doubts, I confess,but now they're cleared up. I didn't know, and now I do know, and thatshows the advantage of asking--don't it?'

I believed that Steerforth had said what he had, in jest, or to drawMiss Dartle out; and I expected him to say as much when she was gone,and we two were sitting before the fire. But he merely asked me what Ithought of her.

'She is very clever, is she not?' I asked.

'Clever! She brings everything to a grindstone,' said Steerforth, andsharpens it, as she has sharpened her own face and figure these yearspast. She has worn herself away by constant sharpening. She is alledge.'

'What a remarkable scar that is upon her lip!' I said.

Steerforth's face fell, and he paused a moment.

'Why, the fact is,' he returned, 'I did that.'

'By an unfortunate accident!'

'No. I was a young boy, and she exasperated me, and I threw a hammer ather. A promising young angel I must have been!' I was deeply sorry tohave touched on such a painful theme, but that was useless now.

'She has borne the mark ever since, as you see,' said Steerforth; 'andshe'll bear it to her grave, if she ever rests in one--though I canhardly believe she will ever rest anywhere. She was the motherless childof a sort of cousin of my father's. He died one day. My mother, who wasthen a widow, brought her here to be company to her. She has a couple ofthousand pounds of her own, and saves the interest of it every year, toadd to the principal. There's the history of Miss Rosa Dartle for you.'

'And I have no doubt she loves you like a brother?' said I.

'Humph!' retorted Steerforth, looking at the fire. 'Some brothers arenot loved over much; and some love--but help yourself, Copperfield!We'll drink the daisies of the field, in compliment to you; and thelilies of the valley that toil not, neither do they spin, in complimentto me--the more shame for me!' A moody smile that had overspread hisfeatures cleared off as he said this merrily, and he was his own frank,winning self again.

I could not help glancing at the scar with a painful interest when wewent in to tea. It was not long before I observed that it was the mostsusceptible part of her face, and that, when she turned pale, that markaltered first, and became a dull, lead-coloured streak, lengthening outto its full extent, like a mark in invisible ink brought to the fire.There was a little altercation between her and Steerforth about a castof the dice at back gammon--when I thought her, for one moment, in astorm of rage; and then I saw it start forth like the old writing on thewall.

It was no matter of wonder to me to find Mrs. Steerforth devoted to herson. She seemed to be able to speak or think about nothing else. Sheshowed me his picture as an infant, in a locket, with some of hisbaby-hair in it; she showed me his picture as he had been when I firstknew him; and she wore at her breast his picture as he was now. All theletters he had ever written to her, she kept in a cabinet near her ownchair by the fire; and she would have read me some of them, and I shouldhave been very glad to hear them too, if he had not interposed, andcoaxed her out of the design.

'It was at Mr. Creakle's, my son tells me, that you first becameacquainted,' said Mrs. Steerforth, as she and I were talking at onetable, while they played backgammon at another. 'Indeed, I recollect hisspeaking, at that time, of a pupil younger than himself who had takenhis fancy there; but your name, as you may suppose, has not lived in mymemory.'

'He was very generous and noble to me in those days, I assure you,ma'am,' said I, 'and I stood in need of such a friend. I should havebeen quite crushed without him.'

'He is always generous and noble,' said Mrs. Steerforth, proudly.

I subscribed to this with all my heart, God knows. She knew I did; forthe stateliness of her manner already abated towards me, except when shespoke in praise of him, and then her air was always lofty.

'It was not a fit school generally for my son,' said she; 'far from it;but there were particular circumstances to be considered at the time, ofmore importance even than that selection. My son's high spirit madeit desirable that he should be placed with some man who felt itssuperiority, and would be content to bow himself before it; and we foundsuch a man there.'

I knew that, knowing the fellow. And yet I did not despise him the morefor it, but thought it a redeeming quality in him if he could be allowedany grace for not resisting one so irresistible as Steerforth.

'My son's great capacity was tempted on, there, by a feeling ofvoluntary emulation and conscious pride,' the fond lady went on to say.'He would have risen against all constraint; but he found himself themonarch of the place, and he haughtily determined to be worthy of hisstation. It was like himself.'

I echoed, with all my heart and soul, that it was like himself.

'So my son took, of his own will, and on no compulsion, to the coursein which he can always, when it is his pleasure, outstrip everycompetitor,' she pursued. 'My son informs me, Mr. Copperfield, thatyou were quite devoted to him, and that when you met yesterday you madeyourself known to him with tears of joy. I should be an affected womanif I made any pretence of being surprised by my son's inspiring suchemotions; but I cannot be indifferent to anyone who is so sensible ofhis merit, and I am very glad to see you here, and can assure you thathe feels an unusual friendship for you, and that you may rely on hisprotection.'

Miss Dartle played backgammon as eagerly as she did everything else.If I had seen her, first, at the board, I should have fancied that herfigure had got thin, and her eyes had got large, over that pursuit, andno other in the world. But I am very much mistaken if she missed aword of this, or lost a look of mine as I received it with the utmostpleasure, and honoured by Mrs. Steerforth's confidence, felt older thanI had done since I left Canterbury.

When the evening was pretty far spent, and a tray of glasses anddecanters came in, Steerforth promised, over the fire, that he wouldseriously think of going down into the country with me. There was nohurry, he said; a week hence would do; and his mother hospitably saidthe same. While we were talking, he more than once called me Daisy;which brought Miss Dartle out again.

'But really, Mr. Copperfield,' she asked, 'is it a nickname? Andwhy does he give it you? Is it--eh?--because he thinks you young andinnocent? I am so stupid in these things.'

I coloured in replying that I believed it was.

'Oh!' said Miss Dartle. 'Now I am glad to know that! I ask forinformation, and I am glad to know it. He thinks you young and innocent;and so you are his friend. Well, that's quite delightful!'

She went to bed soon after this, and Mrs. Steerforth retired too.Steerforth and I, after lingering for half-an-hour over the fire,talking about Traddles and all the rest of them at old Salem House, wentupstairs together. Steerforth's room was next to mine, and I went in tolook at it. It was a picture of comfort, full of easy-chairs, cushionsand footstools, worked by his mother's hand, and with no sort of thingomitted that could help to render it complete. Finally, her handsomefeatures looked down on her darling from a portrait on the wall, as ifit were even something to her that her likeness should watch him whilehe slept.

I found the fire burning clear enough in my room by this time, and thecurtains drawn before the windows and round the bed, giving it a verysnug appearance. I sat down in a great chair upon the hearth to meditateon my happiness; and had enjoyed the contemplation of it for some time,when I found a likeness of Miss Dartle looking eagerly at me from abovethe chimney-piece.

It was a startling likeness, and necessarily had a startling look. Thepainter hadn't made the scar, but I made it; and there it was, comingand going; now confined to the upper lip as I had seen it at dinner, andnow showing the whole extent of the wound inflicted by the hammer, as Ihad seen it when she was passionate.

I wondered peevishly why they couldn't put her anywhere else insteadof quartering her on me. To get rid of her, I undressed quickly,extinguished my light, and went to bed. But, as I fell asleep, I couldnot forget that she was still there looking, 'Is it really, though?I want to know'; and when I awoke in the night, I found that I wasuneasily asking all sorts of people in my dreams whether it really wasor not--without knowing what I meant.