t me
at Yarmouth, and was rather gruff, which I soon found out was because he
had not had any answer to his message. I promised to ask Peggotty for
one.

Ah, what a strange feeling it was to be going home when it was not home,
and to find that every object I looked at reminded me of the happy old
home, which was like a dream I could never dream again!

God knows how like a child the memory may have been that was awakened
within me by the sound of my mother's voice in the old parlor, when I
set foot in the hall.

I believed, from the solitary and thoughtful way in which my mother
murmured her song, that she was alone. And I went softly into the room.
She was sitting by the fire, nursing an infant, whose tiny hand she held
against her neck. Her eyes were looking down upon its face, and she sat
singing to it. I was so far right, that she had no other companion.

I spoke to her, and she started, and cried out. But seeing me, she
called me her dear Davy, her own boy; and, coming half across the room
to meet me, kneeled down upon the ground and kissed me, and laid my head
down on her bosom near the little creature that was nestling there, and
put its hand up to my lips.

I wish I had died. I wish I had died then, with that feeling in my
heart! I should have been more fit for heaven than I ever have been
since.

"He is your brother," said my mother, fondling me. "Davy, my pretty boy:
my poor child!" Then she kissed me more and more, and clasped me round
the neck. This she was doing when Peggotty came running in, and bounced
down on the ground beside us and went mad about us both for a quarter of
an hour.

We had a very happy afternoon the day I came. Mr. and Miss Murdstone
were out, and I sat with my mother and Peggotty, and told them all about
my school and Steerforth, and took the little baby in my arms and nursed
it lovingly. But when the Murdstones came back I was more unhappy than
ever.

I felt uncomfortable about going down to breakfast in The morning, as I
had never set eyes on Mr. Murdstone since the day when I committed my
memorable offense. However, as it must be done, I went down, after two
or three false starts halfway, and as many runs back on tiptoe to my own
room, and presented myself in the parlor.

He was standing before the fire with his back to it, while Miss
Murdstone made the tea. He looked at me steadily as I entered, but made
no sign of recognition whatever.

I went up to him, after a momen