at, and gone to her, and had put his arm laughingly about
her, and had said, 'Come, Rosa, for the future we will love each other
very much!' And she had struck him, and had thrown him off with the fury
of a wild cat, and had burst out of the room.

'What is the matter with Rosa?' said Mrs. Steerforth, coming in.

'She has been an angel, mother,' returned Steerforth, 'for a little
while; and has run into the opposite extreme, since, by way of
compensation.'

'You should be careful not to irritate her, James. Her temper has been
soured, remember, and ought not to be tried.'

Rosa did not come back; and no other mention was made of her, until I
went with Steerforth into his room to say Good night. Then he laughed
about her, and asked me if I had ever seen such a fierce little piece of
incomprehensibility.

I expressed as much of my astonishment as was then capable of
expression, and asked if he could guess what it was that she had taken
so much amiss, so suddenly.

'Oh, Heaven knows,' said Steerforth. 'Anything you like--or nothing!
I told you she took everything, herself included, to a grindstone, and
sharpened it. She is an edge-tool, and requires great care in dealing
with. She is always dangerous. Good night!'

'Good night!' said I, 'my dear Steerforth! I shall be gone before you
wake in the morning. Good night!'

He was unwilling to let me go; and stood, holding me out, with a hand on
each of my shoulders, as he had done in my own room.

'Daisy,' he said, with a smile--'for though that's not the name your
godfathers and godmothers gave you, it's the name I like best to call
you by--and I wish, I wish, I wish, you could give it to me!'

'Why so I can, if I choose,' said I.

'Daisy, if anything should ever separate us, you must think of me at my
best, old boy. Come! Let us make that bargain. Think of me at my best,
if circumstances should ever part us!'

'You have no best to me, Steerforth,' said I, 'and no worst. You are
always equally loved, and cherished in my heart.'

So much compunction for having ever wronged him, even by a shapeless
thought, did I feel within me, that the confession of having done so was
rising to my lips. But for the reluctance I had to betray the confidence
of Agnes, but for my uncertainty how to approach the subject with no
risk of doing so, it would have reached them before he said, 'God bless
you, Daisy, and good night!' In my doubt, it did NOT reach them; and we
shook hands,