‘As you are in no hurry, then,’ said Steerforth, ‘come home with me to Highgate, and stay a day or two. You will be pleased with my mother—she is a little vain and prosy about me, but that you can forgive her—and she will be pleased with you.’
‘I should like to be as sure of that, as you are kind enough to say you are,’ I answered, smiling.
‘Oh!’ said Steerforth, ‘everyone who likes me, has a claim on her that is sure to be acknowledged.’
‘Then I think I shall be a favourite,’ said I.
‘Good!’ said Steerforth. ‘Come and prove it. We will go and see the lions for an hour or two—it’s something to have a fresh fellow like you to show them to, Copperfield—and then we’ll journey out to Highgate by the coach.’
I could hardly believe but that I was in a dream, and that I should wake presently in number forty-four, to the solitary box in the coffee-room and the familiar waiter again. After I had written to my aunt and told her of my fortunate meeting with my admired old schoolfellow, and my acceptance of his invitation, we went out in a hackney-chariot, and saw a Panorama and some other sights, and took a walk through the Museum, where I could not help observing how much Steerforth knew, on an infinite variety of subjects, and of how little account he seemed to make his knowledge.
‘You’ll take a high degree at college, Steerforth,’ said I, ‘if you have not done so already; and they will have good reason to be proud of you.’
‘I take a degree!’ cried Steerforth. ‘Not I! my dear Daisy—will you mind my calling you Daisy?’
‘Not at all!’ said I.
‘That’s a good fellow! My dear Daisy,’ said Steerforth, laughing. ‘I have not the least desire or intention to distinguish myself in that way. I have done quite sufficient for my purpose. I find that I am heavy company enough for myself as I am.’