“No, no!” said Steerforth. “Don’t ring! I can’t! I am going to breakfast with one of these fellows who is at the Piazza Hotel, in Covent Garden.”

“But you’ll come back to dinner?” said I.

“I can’t, upon my life. There’s nothing I should like better, but I must remain with these two fellows. We are all three off together tomorrow morning.”

“Then bring them here to dinner,” I returned. “Do you think they would come?”

“Oh! they would come fast enough,” said Steerforth; “but we should inconvenience you. You had better come and dine with us somewhere.”