“You are not keeping me up. I generally go to bed late.”

“Thank you, Master Copperfield! I have risen from my ’umble station since first you used to address me, it is true; but I am ’umble still. I hope I never shall be otherwise than ’umble. You will not think the worse of my ’umbleness, if I make a little confidence to you, Master Copperfield? Will you?”

“Oh no,” said I, with an effort.

“Thank you!” He took out his pocket-handkerchief, and began wiping the palms of his hands. “Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield⁠—”

“Well, Uriah?”

“Oh, how pleasant to be called Uriah, spontaneously!” he cried; and gave himself a jerk, like a convulsive fish. “You thought her looking very beautiful tonight, Master Copperfield?”