The gentleman in the bag wig laid bundles of papers on his lordship's table, and his lordship silently selected one and turned over the leaves.
"Miss Clare," said the Lord Chancellor. "Miss Ada Clare?"
Mr. Kenge presented her, and his lordship begged her to sit down near him. That he admired her and was interested by her even I could see in a moment. It touched me that the home of such a beautiful young creature should be represented by that dry, official place. The Lord High Chancellor, at his best, appeared so poor a substitute for the love and pride of parents.
"The Jarndyce in question," said the Lord Chancellor, still turning over leaves, "is Jarndyce of Bleak House."
"Jarndyce of Bleak House, my lord," said Mr. Kenge.
"A dreary name," said the Lord Chancellor.

"Miss Ada Clare?" said the Lord Chancellor.
Mr. Kenge presented her, and his lordship begged her to sit down. I could see he was interested by her; it touched me that the home of such a beautiful young creature should be represented by that dry, official place. Even the Lord High Chancellor appeared a poor substitute for the love and pride of parents.
"The Jarndyce in question," said the Lord Chancellor, turning over some papers, "is Jarndyce of Bleak House."
"Jarndyce of Bleak House, my lord," said Mr. Kenge.
"A dreary name," said the Lord Chancellor.
