I answered that I had thought it was later. Not that I had really thought so, but because my conversational powers were effectually scattered.
“Dear me!” he said, considering. “The ’ouse that I am stopping at—a sort of a private hotel and boarding ’ouse, Master Copperfield, near the New River ’ed—will have gone to bed these two hours.”
“I am sorry,” I returned, “that there is only one bed here, and that I—”
“Oh, don’t think of mentioning beds, Master Copperfield!” he rejoined ecstatically, drawing up one leg. “But would you have any objections to my laying down before the fire?”
“If it comes to that,” I said, “pray take my bed, and I’ll lie down before the fire.”
His repudiation of this offer was almost shrill enough, in the excess of its surprise and humility, to have penetrated to the ears of Mrs. Crupp, then sleeping, I suppose, in a distant chamber, situated at about the level of low-water mark, soothed in her slumbers by the ticking of an incorrigible clock, to which she always referred me when we had any little difference on the score of punctuality, and which was never less than three-quarters of an hour too slow, and had always been put right in the morning by the best authorities. As no arguments I could urge, in my bewildered condition, had the least effect upon his modesty in inducing him to accept my bedroom, I was obliged to make the best arrangements I could, for his repose before the fire. The mattress of the sofa (which was a great deal too short for his lank figure), the sofa pillows, a blanket, the table-cover, a clean breakfast-cloth, and a greatcoat, made him a bed and covering, for which he was more than thankful. Having lent him a nightcap, which he put on at once, and in which he made such an awful figure, that I have never worn one since, I left him to his rest.