‘Oh dear, no,’ said Traddles. ‘The eldest is a Beauty.’

He saw, I suppose, that I could not help smiling at the simplicity of this reply; and added, with a smile upon his own ingenuous face:

‘Not, of course, but that my Sophy — pretty name, Copperfield, I always think?’

‘Very pretty!’ said I.

‘Not, of course, but that Sophy is beautiful too in my eyes, and would be one of the dearest girls that ever was, in anybody’s eyes (I should think). But when I say the eldest is a Beauty, I mean she really is a — ’ he seemed to be describing clouds about himself, with both hands: ‘Splendid, you know,’ said Traddles, energetically.