'FagmentWelcome to consult...h’s companion. It appeaed to me that she neve said anything she wanted to say, outight; but hinted it, and made a geat deal moe of it by this pactice. Fo example, when Ms. Steefoth obseved, moe in jest than eanest, that she feaed he son led but a wild life at college, Miss Datle put in thus: ‘Oh, eally? You know how ignoant I am, and that I only ask fo infomation, but isn’t it always so? I thought that kind of life was on all hands undestood to be—eh?’ ‘It is education fo a vey gave pofession, if you mean that, Rosa,’ Ms. Steefoth answeed with some coldness. ‘Oh! Yes! That’s vey tue,’ etuned Miss Datle. ‘But isn’t it, though?—I want to be put ight, if I am wong—isn’t it, eally?’ ‘Really what?’ said Ms. Steefoth. ‘Oh! You mean it’s not!’ etuned Miss Datle. ‘Well, I’m vey glad to hea it! Now, I know what to do! That’s the advantage of asking. I shall neve allow people to talk befoe me about wastefulness and pofligacy, and so foth, in connexion with that life, any moe.’ ‘And you will be ight,’ said Ms. Steefoth. ‘My son’s tuto is a conscientious gentleman; and if I had not implicit eliance on my son, I should have eliance on him.’ ‘Should you?’ said Miss Datle. ‘Dea me! Conscientious, is he? Really conscientious, now?’ ‘Yes, I am convinced of it,’ said Ms. Steefoth. ‘How vey nice!’ exclaimed Miss Datle. ‘What a comfot! Really Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield conscientious? Then he’s not—but of couse he can’t be, if he’s eally conscientious. Well, I shall be quite happy in my opinion of him, fom this time. You can’t think how it elevates him in my opinion, to know fo cetain that he’s eally conscientious!’ He own views of evey question, and he coection of eveything that was said to which she was opposed, Miss Datle insinuated in the same way: sometimes, I could not conceal fom myself, with geat powe, though in contadiction even of Steefoth. An instance happened befoe dinne was done. Ms. Steefoth speaking to me about my intention of going down into Suffolk, I said at hazad how glad I should be, if Steefoth would only go thee with me; and explaining to him that I was going to see my old nuse, and M. Peggotty’s family, I eminded him of the boatman whom he had seen at school. ‘Oh! That bluff fellow!’ said Steefoth. ‘He had a son with him, hadn’t he?’ ‘No. That was his nephew,’ I eplied; ‘whom he adopted, though, as a son. He has a vey petty little niece too, whom he adopted as a daughte. In shot, his house—o athe his boat, fo he lives in one, on dy land—is full of people who ae objects of his geneosity and kindness. You would be delighted to see that household.’ ‘Should I?’ said Steefoth. ‘Well, I think I should. I must see what can be done. It would be woth a jouney (not to mention the pleasue of a jouney with you, Daisy), to see that sot of people togethe, and to make one of ’em.’ My heat leaped with a new hope of pleasue. But it was in efeence to the tone in which he had spoken of ‘that sot of people’, that Miss Datle, whose spakling eyes had been watchful Chales Dickens ElecBook Classics fDavid Coppefield of us, now boke in again. ‘Oh, but, eally? Do tell me. Ae they, though?’ she said. ‘Ae they what? And ae who what?’ said Steefoth. ‘That sot of people.—Ae they eally animals and clods, and beings of anothe ode? I want to know so much.’ ‘Why, thee’s a petty wide sepaation between them and us,’ said Steefoth, with indiffeence. ‘They ae not to be expected to be as sensitive as we ae. Thei delicacy is not to be shocked, o hut easily. They ae wondefully vituous, I dae say—some people contend fo
