to look, sometimes--but I saw no
recognition in his face.

'You don't remember me, I am afraid,' said I.

'My God!' he suddenly exclaimed. 'It's little Copperfield!'

I grasped him by both hands, and could not let them go. But for very
shame, and the fear that it might displease him, I could have held him
round the neck and cried.

'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.

'B