raised his eyes from what he was about. Yet, his very elbows, when he had his back towards me, seemed to teem with the expression of his fixed opinion that I was extremely young.

“Can I do anything more, Sir?”

I thanked him and said, No; but would he take no dinner himself.

“None, I am obliged to you, Sir.”

“Is Mr. Steerforth coming from Oxford?”

“I beg your pardon, Sir?”

“Is Mr. Steerforth coming from Oxford?”

“I should imagine that he might be here to-morrow, Sir. I rather thought he might have been here to-day, Sir. The mistake is mine, no doubt, Sir.”

“If you should see him first—” said I.

“If you’ll excuse me, Sir, I don’t think I shall see him first.”

“In case you do,” said I, “pray say that I am sorry he was not here to-day, as an old schoolfellow of his was here.”

“Indeed, Sir!” and he divided a bow between me and Traddles, with a glance at the latter.

He was moving softly to the door, when, in a forlorn hope of saying something naturally—which I never could, to this man—I said—

“Oh! Littimer!”

“Sir!”

“Did you remain long at Yarmouth, that time?”

“Not particularly so, Sir.”

“You saw the boat completed?”

“Yes, Sir. I remained behind on purpose to see the boat completed.”

“I know!” He raised his eyes to mine respectfully. “Mr. Steerforth has not seen it yet, I suppose?”

“I really can’t say, Sir. I think—but I really can’t say, Sir. I wish you good-night, Sir.”

He comprehended everybody present, in the respectful bow with which he followed these words, and disappeared. My visitors seemed to breathe more freely when he was gone; but my own relief was very great, for besides the constraint, arising from that extraordinary sense of being at a disadvantage which I always had in this man’s presence, my conscience had embarrassed me with whispers that I had mistrusted his master, and I could not repress a vague uneasy dread that he might find it out. How was it, having so little in reality to conceal, that I always did feel as if this man were finding me out?

Mr. Micawber roused me from this reflection, which was blended with a certain remorseful apprehension of seeing Steerforth himself, by bestowing many encomiums on the absent Littimer as a most respectable fellow, and a thoroughly admirable servant. Mr. Micawber, I may remark, had taken his full share of the general bow, and had received it with infinite condescension.