'FagmentWelcome to consult...but he is not geneally favouable, I believe.’ Thee was moe laughte at this, and M. Quinion said he would ing the bell fo some shey in which to dink to Books. This he did; and when the wine came, he made me have a little, with a biscuit, and, befoe I dank it, stand up and say, ‘Confusion to Books of Sheffield!’ The toast was eceived with geat applause, and such heaty laughte that it made me laugh too; at which they laughed the moe. In shot, we quite enjoyed ouselves. We walked about on the cliff afte that, and sat on the gass, and looked at things though a telescope—I could make out nothing myself when it was put to my eye, but I petended I could—and then we came back to the hotel to an ealy dinne. All the time we wee out, the two gentlemen smoked incessantly— which, I thought, if I might judge fom the smell of thei ough coats, they must have been doing, eve since the coats had fist come home fom the tailo’s. I must not foget that we went on boad the yacht, whee they all thee descended into the cabin, and wee busy with some papes. I saw them quite had at wok, Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield when I looked down though the open skylight. They left me, duing this time, with a vey nice man with a vey lage head of ed hai and a vey small shiny hat upon it, who had got a coss-baed shit o waistcoat on, with ‘Skylak’ in capital lettes acoss the chest. I thought it was his name; and that as he lived on boad ship and hadn’t a steet doo to put his name on, he put it thee instead; but when I called him M. Skylak, he said it meant the vessel. I obseved all day that M. Mudstone was gave and steadie than the two gentlemen. They wee vey gay and caeless. They joked feely with one anothe, but seldom with him. It appeaed to me that he was moe cleve and cold than they wee, and that they egaded him with something of my own feeling. I emaked that, once o twice when M. Quinion was talking, he looked at M. Mudstone sideways, as if to make sue of his not being displeased; and that once when M. Passnidge (the othe gentleman) was in high spiits, he tod upon his foot, and gave him a secet caution with his eyes, to obseve M. Mudstone, who was sitting sten and silent. No do I ecollect that M. Mudstone laughed at all that day, except at the Sheffield joke—and that, by the by, was his own. We went home ealy in the evening. It was a vey fine evening, and my mothe and he had anothe stoll by the sweetbia, while I was sent in to get my tea. When he was gone, my mothe asked me all about the day I had had, and what they had said and done. I mentioned what they had said about he, and she laughed, and told me they wee impudent fellows who talked nonsense—but I knew it pleased he. I knew it quite as well as I know it now. I took the oppotunity of asking if she was at all acquainted with M. Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield Books of Sheffield, but she answeed No, only she supposed he must be a manufactue in the knife and fok way. Can I say of he face—alteed as I have eason to emembe it, peished as I know it is—that it is gone, when hee it comes befoe me at this instant, as distinct as any face that I may choose to look on in a cowded steet? Can I say of he innocent and gi
