naturally confusing, among so many strangers, and cost me some tears, but on the whole it was much better than I had anticipated.

I was not considered as being formally received into the school, however, until J. Steerforth arrived. Before this boy, who was reputed to be a great scholar, and was very good-looking, and at least half-a- dozen years my senior, I was carried as before a magistrate. He inquired, under a shed in the playground, into the particulars of my punishment, and was pleased to express his opinion that it was “a jolly shame”; for which I became bound to him ever afterwards.

“What money have you got, Copperfield?” he said, walking aside with me when he had disposed of my affair in these terms.

I told him seven shillings.

“You had better give it to me to take care of,” he said. “At least, you can if you like. You needn’t if you don’t like.”

I hastened to comply with his friendly suggestion, and opening Peggotty’s purse, turned it upside down into his hand.

“Do you want to spend anything now?” he asked me.

“No, thank you,” I replied.

“You can, if you like, you know,” said Steerforth. “Say the word.”

“No, thank you, Sir,” I repeated.

“Perhaps you’d like to spend a couple of shillings or so in a bottle of currant wine, by and by, up in the bedroom?” said Steerforth. “You belong to my bedroom, I find.”

It certainly had not occurred to me before, but I said, Yes, I should like that.

“Very good,” said Steerforth. “You’ll be glad to spend another shilling or so in almond cakes, I dare say?”

I said, Yes, I should like that too.

“And another shilling or so in biscuits, and another in fruit, eh?” said Steerforth. “I say, young Copperfield, you’re going it!”

I smiled because he smiled, but I was a little troubled in my mind, too.

“Well,” said Steerforth, “we must make it stretch as far as we can, that’s all. I’ll do the best in my power for you. I can go out when I like, and I’ll smuggle the prog in.” With these words he put the money in his pocket, and kindly told me not to make myself uneasy; he would take care it should be all right.

He was as good as his word, if that were all right which I had a secret misgiving was nearly all wrong—for I feared it was a waste of my mother’s two half-crowns—though I had preserved the piece of paper they were wrapped in, which was a precious saving. When we went up-stairs to bed he produced the whole seven shillings’ worth, and laid it out on my bed in the moonlight, saying—

“There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal spread you’ve got.”

I couldn’t think of doing the honours of the feast, at my time of life, while he was by; my hand shook at the very thought of it. I begged him to do me the favour of presiding; and my request being seconded by the other boys who were in that room, he acceded to it, and sat upon my pillow, handing round the