“Yes, I think so.”

“Well, then, don’t go till next day. I wanted you to come and stay a few days with us. Here I am, on purpose to bid you, and you fly off to Yarmouth!”

“You are a nice fellow to talk of flying off, Steerforth, who are always running wild on some unknown expedition or other!”

He looked at me for a moment without speaking, and then rejoined, still holding me as before, and giving me a shake:

“Come! Say the next day, and pass as much of tomorrow as you can with us! Who knows when we may meet again, else? Come! Say the next day! I want you to stand between Rosa Dartle and me, and keep us asunder.”

“Would you love each other too much, without me?”

“Yes; or hate,” laughed Steerforth; “no matter which. Come! Say the next day!”