She then selected two or three of the little instruments, and a little bottle, and asked (to my surprise) if the table would bear. On Steerforth’s replying in the affirmative, she pushed a chair against it, and begging the assistance of my hand, mounted up, pretty nimbly, to the top, as if it were a stage.

“If either of you saw my ankles,” she said, when she was safely elevated, “say so, and I’ll go home and destroy myself!”

“ I did not,” said Steerforth.

“ I did not,” said I.

“Well then,” cried Miss Mowcher, “I’ll consent to live. Now, ducky, ducky, ducky, come to Mrs. Bond and be killed.”