one another, and make believe with
such a face, that they'd as soon think of laying it on, before a whole
drawing-room, as before me. And when I wait upon 'em, they'll say to
me sometimes--WITH IT ON--thick, and no mistake--"How am I looking,
Mowcher? Am I pale?" Ha! ha! ha! ha! Isn't THAT refreshing, my young
friend!'

I never did in my days behold anything like Mowcher as she stood upon
the dining table, intensely enjoying this refreshment, rubbing busily at
Steerforth's head, and winking at me over it.

'Ah!' she said. 'Such things are not much in demand hereabouts. That
sets me off again! I haven't seen a pretty woman since I've been here,
jemmy.'

'No?' said Steerforth.

'Not the ghost of one,' replied Miss Mowcher.

'We could show her the substance of one, I think?' said Steerforth,
addressing his eyes to mine. 'Eh, Daisy?'

'Yes, indeed,' said I.

'Aha?' cried the little creature, glancing sharply at my face, and then
peeping round at Steerforth's. 'Umph?'

The first exclamation sounded like a question put to both of us, and the
second like a question put to Steerforth only. She seemed to have found
no answer to either, but continued to rub, with her head on one side and
her eye turned up, as if she were looking for an answer in the air and
were confident of its appearing presently.

'A sister of yours, Mr. Copperfield?' she cried, after a pause, and
still keeping the same look-out. 'Aye, aye?'

'No,' said Steerforth, before I could reply. 'Nothing of the sort. On
the contrary, Mr. Copperfield used--or I am much mistaken--to have a
great admiration for her.'

'Why, hasn't he now?' returned Miss Mowcher. 'Is he fickle? Oh, for
shame! Did he sip every flower, and change every hour, until Polly his
passion requited?--Is her name Polly?'

The Elfin suddenness with which she pounced upon me with this question,
and a searching look, quite disconcerted me for a moment.

'No, Miss Mowcher,' I replied. 'Her name is Emily.'

'Aha?' she cried exactly as before. 'Umph? What a rattle I am! Mr.
Copperfield, ain't I volatile?'

Her tone and look implied something that was not agreeable to me in
connexion with the subject. So I said, in a graver manner than any of us
had yet assumed: 'She is as virtuous as she is pretty. She is engaged
to be married to a most worthy and deserving man in her own station of
life. I esteem her for her good sense, as much as I admire her for her
good looks.'

'Well said!' cried