I never did in my days behold anything like Mowcher as she stood upon the dining table, intensely enjoying this refreshment, rubbing busily at Steerforth’s head, and winking at me over it.

“Ah!” she said. “Such things are not much in demand hereabouts. That sets me off again! I haven’t seen a pretty woman since I’ve been here, jemmy.”

“No?” said Steerforth.

“Not the ghost of one,” replied Miss Mowcher.

“We could show her the substance of one, I think?” said Steerforth, addressing his eyes to mine. “Eh, Daisy?”

“Yes, indeed,” said I.

“Aha?” cried the little creature, glancing sharply at my face, and then peeping round at Steerforth’s. “Umph?”