A Lily Pond

I gave him good morning, and asked him what o'clock it was. He took out of his pocket the most respectable hunting-watch I ever saw, and preventing the spring with his thumb from opening far, looked in at the face as if he were consulting an oracular oyster, shut it up again, and said, if I pleased, it was half past eight. ¡¡¡¡'Mr. Steerforth will be glad to hear how you have rested, sir.' ¡¡¡¡'Thank you,' said I, 'very well indeed. Is Mr.
Steerforth quite well?' ¡¡¡¡'Thank you, sir, Mr. Steerforth is tolerably well.' Another of his characteristics - no use of superlatives. A cool calm medium always. ¡¡¡¡'Is there anything more I can have the honour of doing for you, sir? The warning-bell will ring at nine; the family take breakfast at half past nine.' ¡¡¡¡'Nothing, I thank you.' ¡¡¡¡'I thank YOU, sir, if you please'; and with that, and with a little inclination of his head when he passed the bed-side, as an apology for correcting me, he went out, shutting the door as delicately as if I had just fallen into a sweet sleep on which my life depended.