"Indeed?" said I.
He replied with the high-shouldered bow. "Where what is left among us of deportment," he added, "still lingers. England--alas, my country!--has degenerated very much, and is degenerating every day. She has not many gentlemen left. We are few. I see nothing to succeed us but a race of weavers."
"One might hope that the race of gentlemen would be perpetuated here," said I.

"Indeed?" said I.
He replied with a high-shouldered bow. "Where what is left among us of deportment," he added, "still lingers. England - alas, my country! - has degenerated very much. She has not many gentlemen left. We are few. I see nothing to succeed us but a race of weavers."
"One might hope that the race of gentlemen would be perpetuated here," said I.


"You are very good." He smiled with a high-shouldered bow again. "You flatter me. But, no--no! I have never been able to imbue my poor boy with that part of his art. Heaven forbid that I should disparage my dear child, but he has--no deportment."
"He appears to be an excellent master," I observed.

"You are very good." He smiled. "You flatter me. But, no! I have never been able to imbue my poor boy with that part of his art. He has no deportment."
"He appears to be an excellent teacher," I observed.


"Understand me, my dear madam, he IS an excellent master. All that can be acquired, he has acquired. All that can be imparted, he can impart. But there ARE things--" He took another pinch of snuff and made the bow again, as if to add, "This kind of thing, for instance."
I glanced towards the centre of the room, where Miss Jellyby's lover, now engaged with single pupils, was undergoing greater drudgery than ever.
"My amiable child," murmured Mr. Turveydrop, adjusting his cravat.
"Your son is indefatigable," said I.

"He is. All that can be imparted, he can impart. But there are things-" He took another pinch of snuff and bowed again.
I glanced towards the centre of the room, where Miss Jellyby's lover was undergoing his drudgery.
"Your son is indefatigable," said I.


"It is my reward," said Mr. Turveydrop, "to hear you say so. In some respects, he treads in the footsteps of his sainted mother. She was a devoted creature. But wooman, lovely wooman," said Mr. Turveydrop with very disagreeable gallantry, "what a sex you are!"
I rose and joined Miss Jellyby, who was by this time putting on her bonnet. The time allotted to a lesson having fully elapsed, there was a general putting on of bonnets. When Miss Jellyby and the unfortunate Prince found an opportunity to become betrothed I don't know, but they certainly found none on this occasion to exchange a dozen words.
"My dear," said Mr. Turveydrop benignly to his son, "do you know the hour?"

"He treads in the footsteps of his sainted mother. She was a devoted creature. But wooman, lovely wooman," said Mr. Turveydrop with very disagreeable gallantry, "what a sex you are!"
I rose and joined Miss Jellyby, who was putting on her bonnet, for the lesson was over, and there was a general putting on of bonnets. When Miss Jellyby and the unfortunate Prince found an opportunity to become betrothed I don't know, but they certainly found none on this occasion to exchange a dozen words.
"My dear," said Mr. Turveydrop benignly to his son, "do you know the hour?"


"No, father." The son had no watch. The father had a handsome gold one, which he pulled out with an air that was an example to mankind.
"My son," said he, "it's two o'clock. Recollect your school at Kensington at three."
"That's time enough for me, father," said Prince. "I can take a morsel of dinner standing and be off."
"My dear boy," returned his father, "you must be very quick. You will find the cold mutton on the table."

"No, father." The son had no watch. The father had a handsome gold one, which he pulled out with an air.
"My son, it's two o'clock. Recollect your school at Kensington at three."
"That's time enough, father," said Prince. "I can take a morsel of dinner standing and be off."
"My dear boy," returned his father, "you must be very quick. You will find the cold mutton on the table."


"Thank you, father. Are YOU off now, father?"
"Yes, my dear. I suppose," said Mr. Turveydrop, shutting his eyes and lifting up his shoulders with modest consciousness, "that I must show myself, as usual, about town."
"You had better dine out comfortably somewhere," said his son.
"My dear child, I intend to. I shall take my little meal, I think, at the French house, in the Opera Colonnade."
"That's right. Good-bye, father!" said Prince, shaking hands.

"Thank you, father. Are you off now, father?"
"Yes, my dear. I suppose," said Mr. Turveydrop, shutting his eyes modestly, "that I must show myself, as usual, about town."
"Dine out comfortably somewhere," said his son.
"My dear child, I intend to. I shall take my little meal, I think, at the French house, in the Opera Colonnade."
"Good-bye, father!" said Prince.


"Good-bye, my son. Bless you!"
Mr. Turveydrop said this in quite a pious manner, and it seemed to do his son good, who, in parting from him, was so pleased with him, so dutiful to him, and so proud of him that I almost felt as if it were an unkindness to the younger man not to be able to believe implicitly in the elder. The few moments that were occupied by Prince in taking leave of us (and particularly of one of us, as I saw, being in the secret), enhanced my favourable impression of his almost childish character. I felt a liking for him and a compassion for him as he put his little kit in his pocket--and with it his desire to stay a little while with Caddy--and went away good-humouredly to his cold mutton and his school at Kensington, that made me scarcely less irate with his father than the censorious old lady.
The father opened the room door for us and bowed us out in a manner, I must acknowledge, worthy of his shining original. In the same style he presently passed us on the other side of the street, on his way to the aristocratic part of the town, where he was going to show himself among the few other gentlemen left. For some moments, I was so lost in reconsidering what I had heard and seen in Newman Street that I was quite unable to talk to Caddy or even to fix my attention on what she said to me, especially when I began to inquire in my mind whether there were, or ever had been, any other gentlemen, not in the dancing profession, who lived and founded a reputation entirely on their deportment. This became so bewildering and suggested the possibility of so many Mr. Turveydrops that I said, "Esther, you must make up your mind to abandon this subject altogether and attend to Caddy." I accordingly did so, and we chatted all the rest of the way to Lincoln's Inn.

"Good-bye, my son. Bless you!" Mr. Turveydrop said this in quite a pious manner, and it seemed to do his son good. He seemed so pleased and dutifully proud of his father that I almost felt as if it were unkind to him not to believe implicitly in his parent. I felt a liking for Prince, and compassion for him as he put away his kit and went good-humouredly to his cold mutton and his school at Kensington.
The father opened the door for us and bowed us out in a regal manner. For some moments, I was so lost in wondering if there had ever been any other gentlemen who lived and founded a reputation entirely on their deportment. Then I resolved to attend to Caddy; and we chatted all the rest of the way to Lincoln's Inn.


Caddy told me that her lover's education had been so neglected that it was not always easy to read his notes. She said if he were not so anxious about his spelling and took less pains to make it clear, he would do better; but he put so many unnecessary letters into short words that they sometimes quite lost their English appearance. "He does it with the best intention," observed Caddy, "but it hasn't the effect he means, poor fellow!" Caddy then went on to reason, how could he be expected to be a scholar when he had passed his whole life in the dancing-school and had done nothing but teach and fag, fag and teach, morning, noon, and night! And what did it matter? She could write letters enough for both, as she knew to her cost, and it was far better for him to be amiable than learned. "Besides, it's not as if I was an accomplished girl who had any right to give herself airs," said Caddy. "I know little enough, I am sure, thanks to Ma!

Caddy told me that her lover's education had been so neglected that it was not always easy to read his notes. But how could he be expected to be a scholar when he had passed his whole life in the dancing-school and had done nothing but teach and work, morning, noon, and night! And what did it matter? She could write letters enough for both, and it was better for him to be amiable than learned. "Besides, I'm not an accomplished girl myself," said Caddy. "I know little enough, I am sure, thanks to Ma!


"There's another thing I want to tell you, now we are alone," continued Caddy, "which I should not have liked to mention unless you had seen Prince, Miss Summerson. You know what a house ours is. It's of no use my trying to learn anything that it would be useful for Prince's wife to know in OUR house. We live in such a state of muddle that it's impossible, and I have only been more disheartened whenever I have tried. So I get a little practice with--who do you think? Poor Miss Flite! Early in the morning I help her to tidy her room and clean her birds, and I make her cup of coffee for her (of course she taught me), and I have learnt to make it so well that Prince says it's the very best coffee he ever tasted, and would quite delight old Mr. Turveydrop, who is very particular indeed about his coffee. I can make little puddings too; and I know how to buy neck of mutton, and tea, and sugar, and butter, and a good many housekeeping things. I am not clever at my needle, yet," said Caddy, glancing at the repairs on Peepy's frock, "but perhaps I shall improve, and since I have been engaged to Prince and have been doing all this, I have felt better-tempered, I hope, and more forgiving to Ma. It rather put me out at first this morning to see you and Miss Clare looking so neat and pretty and to feel ashamed of Peepy and myself too, but on the whole I hope I am better-tempered than I was and more forgiving to Ma."

"There's another thing I want to tell you, now we are alone," she continued. "Miss Summerson, you know what a house ours is. It's no use my trying to learn anything about house-keeping in our house. We live in such a state of muddle that it's impossible. So I get a little practice with - who do you think? Poor Miss Flite! Early in the morning I help her to tidy her room and clean her birds, and I make her cup of coffee for her (of course she taught me), and I have learnt to make it so well that Prince says it's the very best coffee he ever tasted, and would quite delight old Mr. Turveydrop, who is very particular about his coffee. I can make little puddings too; and I know a good many housekeeping things. I am not clever at my needle, yet," said Caddy, glancing at the repairs on Peepy's frock, "but perhaps I shall improve, and since I have been engaged to Prince and have been doing all this, I have felt better-tempered, I hope, and more forgiving to Ma. It rather put me out at first this morning to see you and Miss Clare looking so neat and pretty and to feel ashamed of Peepy and myself, but on the whole I hope I am better-tempered than I was."


The poor girl, trying so hard, said it from her heart, and touched mine. "Caddy, my love," I replied, "I begin to have a great affection for you, and I hope we shall become friends."
"Oh, do you?" cried Caddy. "How happy that would make me!"
"My dear Caddy," said I, "let us be friends from this time, and let us often have a chat about these matters and try to find the right way through them." Caddy was overjoyed. I said everything I could in my old-fashioned way to comfort and encourage her, and I would not have objected to old Mr. Turveydrop that day for any smaller consideration than a settlement on his daughter-in-law.

The poor girl said it from her heart, and touched mine.
"Caddy, my love," I replied, "I begin to have a great affection for you, and I hope we shall become friends."
"Oh, do you?" cried Caddy. "How happy that would make me!"
"My dear Caddy," said I, "let us be friends, and often have a chat about these matters and try to find the right way through them." Caddy was overjoyed. I said everything I could in my old-fashioned way to comfort and encourage her.


By this time we were come to Mr. Krook's, whose private door stood open. There was a bill, pasted on the door-post, announcing a room to let on the second floor. It reminded Caddy to tell me as we proceeded upstairs that there had been a sudden death there and an inquest and that our little friend had been ill of the fright. The door and window of the vacant room being open, we looked in. It was the room with the dark door to which Miss Flite had secretly directed my attention when I was last in the house. A sad and desolate place it was, a gloomy, sorrowful place that gave me a strange sensation of mournfulness and even dread. "You look pale," said Caddy when we came out, "and cold!" I felt as if the room had chilled me.

By this time we were come to Mr. Krook's, whose private door stood open. There was a bill pasted on the door-post, announcing a room to let on the second floor. Caddy told me as we went upstairs that there had been a sudden death there and an inquest, and that our little friend had been ill of the fright. The door of the vacant room being open, we looked in. A sad and desolate place it was, a gloomy place that gave me a strange sensation of mournfulness and even dread.
"You look pale," said Caddy, "and cold!" I felt as if the room had chilled me.


We had walked slowly while we were talking, and my guardian and Ada were here before us. We found them in Miss Flite's garret. They were looking at the birds, while a medical gentleman who was so good as to attend Miss Flite with much solicitude and compassion spoke with her cheerfully by the fire.
"I have finished my professional visit," he said, coming forward. "Miss Flite is much better and may appear in court (as her mind is set upon it) to-morrow. She has been greatly missed there, I understand."
Miss Flite received the compliment with complacency and dropped a general curtsy to us.

My guardian and Ada were here before us, in Miss Flite's garret. They were looking at the birds, while a medical gentleman who was so good as to attend Miss Flite spoke with her cheerfully by the fire.
"I have finished my professional visit," he said, coming forward. "Miss Flite is much better and may appear in court (as her mind is set upon it) tomorrow. She has been greatly missed there, I understand."
Miss Flite dropped us a curtsy.


"Honoured, indeed," said she, "by another visit from the wards in Jarndyce! Ve-ry happy to receive Jarndyce of Bleak House beneath my humble roof!" with a special curtsy. "Fitz-Jarndyce, my dear"--she had bestowed that name on Caddy, it appeared, and always called her by it--"a double welcome!"
"Has she been very ill?" asked Mr. Jarndyce of the gentleman whom we had found in attendance on her. She answered for herself directly, though he had put the question in a whisper.

"Honoured, indeed," said she, "by another visit from the wards in Jarndyce! Ve-ry happy! Fitz-Jarndyce, my dear" - she had bestowed that name on Caddy, it appeared - "a double welcome!"
"Has she been very ill?" asked Mr. Jarndyce of the doctor in a whisper. She answered for herself.


"Oh, decidedly unwell! Oh, very unwell indeed," she said confidentially. "Not pain, you know--trouble. Not bodily so much as nervous, nervous! The truth is," in a subdued voice and trembling, "we have had death here. There was poison in the house. I am very susceptible to such horrid things. It frightened me. Only Mr. Woodcourt knows how much. My physician, Mr. Woodcourt!"

"Oh, very unwell indeed," she said confidentially. "Not bodily pain, you know, so much as nervous trouble. The truth is," in a subdued voice, "we have had death here. There was poison in the house. It frightened me. Only Mr. Woodcourt knows how much. My physician, Mr. Woodcourt!"


with great stateliness. "The wards in Jarndyce--Jarndyce of Bleak House--Fitz-Jarndyce!"
"Miss Flite," said Mr. Woodcourt in a grave kind of voice, as if he were appealing to her while speaking to us, and laying his hand gently on her arm, "Miss Flite describes her illness with her usual accuracy. She was alarmed by an occurrence in the house which might have alarmed a stronger person, and was made ill by the distress and agitation. She brought me here in the first hurry of the discovery, though too late for me to be of any use to the unfortunate man. I have compensated myself for that disappointment by coming here since and being of some small use to her."
"The kindest physician in the college," whispered Miss Flite to me. "I expect a judgment. On the day of judgment. And shall then confer estates."

"Miss Flite," said Mr. Woodcourt, laying his hand gently on her arm, "was alarmed by an occurrence in the house which might have alarmed a stronger person, and was made ill by the distress and agitation. She brought me here in the first hurry of the discovery, though too late for me to be of any use to the unfortunate man. I hope I have been of some small use to her."
"The kindest physician in the college," whispered Miss Flite to me. "I expect a judgment. And shall then confer estates."


"She will be as well in a day or two," said Mr. Woodcourt, looking at her with an observant smile, "as she ever will be. In other words, quite well of course. Have you heard of her good fortune?"

"She will be as well as ever in a day or two," said Mr. Woodcourt, looking at her with an observant smile. "Have you heard of her good fortune?"


"Most extraordinary!" said Miss Flite, smiling brightly. "You never heard of such a thing, my dear! Every Saturday, Conversation Kenge or Guppy (clerk to Conversation K.) places in my hand a paper of shillings. Shillings. I assure you! Always the same number in the paper. Always one for every day in the week. Now you know, really! So well-timed, is it not?

"Most extraordinary!" said Miss Flite, smiling brightly. "You never heard of such a thing, my dear! Every Saturday, Mr. Kenge or Guppy his clerk places in my hand a paper of shillings. Always the same number. Always one for every day in the week.


Ye-es! From whence do these papers come, you say? That is the great question. Naturally. Shall I tell you what I think? I think," said Miss Flite, drawing herself back with a very shrewd look and shaking her right forefinger in a most significant manner, "that the Lord Chancellor, aware of the length of time during which the Great Seal has been open (for it has been open a long time!), forwards them. Until the judgment I expect is given. Now that's very creditable, you know. To confess in that way that he IS a little slow for human life.

From whence do these papers come, you say? That is the great question. Naturally. Shall I tell you what I think? I think," said she, with a very shrewd look, "that the Lord Chancellor, aware of the length of time during which the Great Seal has been open, forwards them. Until the judgment I expect is given. Now that's very creditable, you know.


So delicate! Attending court the other day--I attend it regularly, with my documents--I taxed him with it, and he almost confessed. That is, I smiled at him from my bench, and HE smiled at me from his bench. But it's great good fortune, is it not? And Fitz-Jarndyce lays the money out for me to great advantage. Oh, I assure you to the greatest advantage!"
I congratulated her (as she addressed herself to me) upon this fortunate addition to her income and wished her a long continuance of it. I did not speculate upon the source from which it came or wonder whose humanity was so considerate. My guardian stood before me, contemplating the birds, and I had no need to look beyond him.

So delicate! Attending court the other day - I attend it regularly, with my documents - I taxed him with it, and he almost confessed. That is, I smiled at him from my bench, and he smiled at me from his bench. But it's great good fortune, is it not?"
I congratulated her upon this fortunate addition to her income. I did not speculate upon its source. My guardian stood before me, contemplating the birds, and I had no need to look beyond him.


"And what do you call these little fellows, ma'am?" said he in his pleasant voice. "Have they any names?"
"I can answer for Miss Flite that they have," said I, "for she promised to tell us what they were. Ada remembers?"
Ada remembered very well.
"Did I?" said Miss Flite. "Who's that at my door? What are you listening at my door for, Krook?"

"And what do you call these little fellows, ma'am?" said he in his pleasant voice. "Have they any names?"
"I can answer for Miss Flite that they have," said I, "for she promised to tell us what they were."
"Did I?" said Miss Flite. "Who's that at my door? What are you listening at my door for, Krook?"


The old man of the house, pushing it open before him, appeared there with his fur cap in his hand and his cat at his heels.
"I warn't listening, Miss Flite," he said, "I was going to give a rap with my knuckles, only you're so quick!"
"Make your cat go down. Drive her away!" the old lady angrily exclaimed.
"Bah, bah! There ain't no danger, gentlefolks," said Mr. Krook, looking slowly and sharply from one to another until he had looked at all of us; "she'd never offer at the birds when I was here unless I told her to it."
"You will excuse my landlord," said the old lady with a dignified air. "M, quite M! What do you want, Krook, when I have company?"

The old man of the house, pushing it open, appeared there with his cat at his heels.
"I warn't listening, Miss Flite," he said, "I was going to give a rap, only you're so quick!"
"Make your cat go down!" the old lady angrily exclaimed.
"Bah, bah! There ain't no danger, gentlefolks," said Mr. Krook, looking slowly and sharply at each of us in turn; "she'd never go at the birds when I was here unless I told her to."
"You will excuse my landlord," said the old lady with a dignified air. "M, quite M! What do you want, Krook?"


"Hi!" said the old man. "You know I am the Chancellor."
"Well?" returned Miss Flite. "What of that?"


"For the Chancellor," said the old man with a chuckle, "not to be acquainted with a Jarndyce is queer, ain't it, Miss Flite? Mightn't I take the liberty? Your servant, sir. I know Jarndyce and Jarndyce a'most as well as you do, sir. I knowed old Squire Tom, sir. I never to my knowledge see you afore though, not even in court. Yet, I go there a mortal sight of times in the course of the year, taking one day with another."
"I never go there," said Mr. Jarndyce (which he never did on any consideration). "I would sooner go--somewhere else."

said the old man with a chuckle. "You know I am the Chancellor; and for the Chancellor not to be acquainted with a Jarndyce is queer, ain't it, Miss Flite? Your servant, sir. I know Jarndyce and Jarndyce a'most as well as you do, sir. I knowed old Squire Tom, sir. I never to my knowledge see you afore though, not even in court."
"I never go there," said Mr. Jarndyce.


"Would you though?" returned Krook, grinning. "You're bearing hard upon my noble and learned brother in your meaning, sir, though perhaps it is but nat'ral in a Jarndyce. The burnt child, sir! What, you're looking at my lodger's birds, Mr. Jarndyce?" The old man had come by little and little into the room until he now touched my guardian with his elbow and looked close up into his face with his spectacled eyes. "It's one of her strange ways that she'll never tell the names of these birds if she can help it, though she named 'em all." This was in a whisper. "Shall I run 'em over, Flite?" he asked aloud, winking at us and pointing at her as she turned away, affecting to sweep the grate.

"Well, perhaps it is but nat'ral in a Jarndyce, sir! You're looking at my lodger's birds, Mr. Jarndyce?" The old man had come into the room, and now looked close up into my guardian's face. "It's one of her strange ways that she'll never tell the names of these birds if she can help it." This was in a whisper. "Shall I run 'em over, Flite?" he asked aloud, winking at us.


"If you like," she answered hurriedly.
The old man, looking up at the cages after another look at us, went through the list.
"Hope, Joy, Youth, Peace, Rest, Life, Dust, Ashes, Waste, Want, Ruin, Despair, Madness, Death, Cunning, Folly, Words, Wigs, Rags, Sheepskin, Plunder, Precedent, Jargon, Gammon, and Spinach. That's the whole collection," said the old man, "all cooped up together, by my noble and learned brother."
"This is a bitter wind!" muttered my guardian.
"When my noble and learned brother gives his judgment, they're to be let go free," said Krook, winking at us again. "And then," he added, whispering and grinning, "if that ever was to happen--which it won't--the birds that have never been caged would kill 'em."
"If ever the wind was in the east," said my guardian, pretending to look out of the window for a weathercock, "I think it's there to-day!"

"If you like."
The old man, looking at the cages, went through the list.
"Hope, Joy, Youth, Peace, Rest, Life, Dust, Ashes, Waste, Want, Ruin, Despair, Madness, Death, Cunning, Folly, Words, Wigs, Rags, Sheepskin, Plunder, Precedent, Jargon, Gammon, and Spinach. That's the whole collection," said the old man, "all cooped up together, by my noble and learned brother the Chancellor."
"This is a bitter wind!" muttered my guardian.
"When my noble and learned brother gives his judgment, they're to be let go free," said Krook, winking at us again, and adding in a whisper. "And if that ever was to happen - which it won't - the birds that have never been caged would kill 'em."
"If ever the wind was in the east," said my guardian, "I think it's there today!"


We found it very difficult to get away from the house. It was not Miss Flite who detained us; she was as reasonable a little creature in consulting the convenience of others as there possibly could be. It was Mr. Krook. He seemed unable to detach himself from Mr. Jarndyce. If he had been linked to him, he could hardly have attended him more closely. He proposed to show us his Court of Chancery and all the strange medley it contained; during the whole of our inspection (prolonged by himself) he kept close to Mr. Jarndyce and sometimes detained him under one pretence or other until we had passed on, as if he were tormented by an inclination to enter upon some secret subject which he could not make up his mind to approach. I cannot imagine a countenance and manner more singularly expressive of caution and indecision, and a perpetual impulse to do something he could not resolve to venture on, than Mr. Krook's was that day. His watchfulness of my guardian was incessant. He rarely removed his eyes from his face. If he went on beside him, he observed him with the slyness of an old white fox.

We found it very difficult to get away from the house. It was not Miss Flite who detained us; it was Mr. Krook. He seemed unable to detach himself from Mr. Jarndyce. He proposed to show us his Court of Chancery and all the strange medley it contained. During the inspection he kept close to Mr. Jarndyce and sometimes detained him, as if he were tormented by a wish to enter upon some secret subject which he could not make up his mind to approach. He rarely removed his watchful eyes from my guardian's face, but observed him with the slyness of an old fox


If he went before, he looked back. When we stood still, he got opposite to him, and drawing his hand across and across his open mouth with a curious expression of a sense of power, and turning up his eyes, and lowering his grey eyebrows until they appeared to be shut, seemed to scan every lineament of his face.
At last, having been (always attended by the cat) all over the house and having seen the whole stock of miscellaneous lumber, which was certainly curious, we came into the back part of the shop. Here on the head of an empty barrel stood on end were an ink-bottle, some old stumps of pens, and some dirty playbills; and against the wall were pasted several large printed alphabets in several plain hands.
"What are you doing here?" asked my guardian.
"Trying to learn myself to read and write," said Krook.
"And how do you get on?"

 and a curious expression of a sense of power.
At last, having been all over the house and having seen the whole curious stock, we came into the back of the shop. Here on an empty barrel stood on end were an ink-bottle, pens, and some dirty playbills; and against the wall were pasted several large printed alphabets.
"What are you doing here?" asked my guardian.
"Trying to learn myself to read and write," said Krook.
"And how do you get on?"


"Slow. Bad," returned the old man impatiently. "It's hard at my time of life."
"It would be easier to be taught by some one," said my guardian.
"Aye, but they might teach me wrong!" returned the old man with a wonderfully suspicious flash of his eye. "I don't know what I may have lost by not being learned afore. I wouldn't like to lose anything by being learned wrong now."

"Slow. Bad," returned the old man impatiently. "It's hard at my time of life."
"It would be easier to be taught by some one," said my guardian.
"Aye, but they might teach me wrong!" returned the old man with a suspicious flash of his eye.
"Wrong?"


"Wrong?" said my guardian with his good-humoured smile. "Who do you suppose would teach you wrong?"
"I don't know, Mr. Jarndyce of Bleak House!" replied the old man, turning up his spectacles on his forehead and rubbing his hands. "I don't suppose as anybody would, but I'd rather trust my own self than another!"
These answers and his manner were strange enough to cause my guardian to inquire of Mr. Woodcourt, as we all walked across Lincoln's Inn together, whether Mr. Krook were really, as his lodger represented him, deranged. The young surgeon replied, no, he had seen no reason to think so. He was exceedingly distrustful, as ignorance usually was, and he was always more or less under the influence of raw gin, of which he drank great quantities and of which he and his back-shop, as we might have observed, smelt strongly; but he did not think him mad as yet.

said my guardian with his good-humoured smile. "Who do you suppose would teach you wrong?"
"I don't know, Mr. Jarndyce!" replied the old man. "I don't suppose as anybody would, but I'd rather trust my own self than another!"
His manner was strange enough to cause my guardian to ask Mr. Woodcourt, as we walked across Lincoln's Inn together, whether Mr. Krook were really deranged, as Miss Flite suggested. The young surgeon replied no, he had seen no reason to think so. Krook was exceedingly distrustful, and generally under the influence of gin, of which he and his back-shop smelt strongly; but he did not think him mad.


On our way home, I so conciliated Peepy's affections by buying him a windmill and two flour-sacks that he would suffer nobody else to take off his hat and gloves and would sit nowhere at dinner but at my side. Caddy sat upon the other side of me, next to Ada, to whom we imparted the whole history of the engagement as soon as we got back. We made much of Caddy, and Peepy too; and Caddy brightened exceedingly; and my guardian was as merry as we were; and we were all very happy indeed until Caddy went home at night in a hackney-coach, with Peepy fast asleep, but holding tight to the windmill.
I have forgotten to mention--at least I have not mentioned--that Mr. Woodcourt was the same dark young surgeon whom we had met at Mr. Badger's. Or that Mr. Jarndyce invited him to dinner that day. Or that he came. Or that when they were all gone and I said to Ada, "Now, my darling, let us have a little talk about Richard!" Ada laughed and said--
But I don't think it matters what my darling said. She was always merry.

On our way home, I bought Peepy a windmill - so he would sit nowhere at dinner but at my side. Caddy sat upon my other side, next to Ada, to whom we told the history of the engagement. We made much of Caddy, and Peepy too; and Caddy brightened, and my guardian was merry; and we were all very happy indeed until Caddy went home at night in a hackney-coach, with Peepy fast asleep, but holding tight to the windmill.
I have forgotten to mention that Mr. Woodcourt was the same dark young surgeon whom we had met at Mr. Badger's. Or that Mr. Jarndyce invited him to dinner that day, and that he came. Or that when they were all gone and I said to Ada, "Now, my darling, let us have a little talk about Richard!", Ada laughed and said-
But I don't think it matters what my darling said. She was always merry.


George's Shooting Gallery is to let, and the stock is sold off, and George himself is at Chesney Wold attending on Sir Leicester in his rides and riding very near his bridle-rein because of the uncertain hand with which he guides his horse. But not to-day is George so occupied. He is journeying to-day into the iron country farther north to look about him.
As he comes into the iron country farther north, such fresh green woods as those of Chesney Wold are left behind; and coal pits and ashes, high chimneys and red bricks, blighted verdure, scorching fires, and a heavy never-lightening cloud of smoke become the features of the scenery. Among such objects rides the trooper, looking about him and always looking for something he has come to find.
At last, on the black canal bridge of a busy town, with a clang of iron in it, and more fires and more smoke than he has seen yet, the trooper, swart with the dust of the coal roads, checks his horse and asks a workman does he know the name of Rouncewell thereabouts.
"Why, master," quoth the workman, "do I know my own name?"
"'Tis so well known here, is it, comrade?" asks the trooper.

George's Shooting Gallery is to let, and the stock is sold off, and George himself is at Chesney Wold attending on Sir Leicester in his rides, and riding very near because of the uncertain hand with which Sir Leicester guides his horse. But today George is not so occupied. He is journeying today into the iron country farther north.
As he comes into the iron country, the fresh green woods are left behind; and coal pits and ashes, high chimneys and red bricks, and a heavy cloud of smoke become the features of the scenery. The trooper rides looking about him, looking for something he has come to find.
At last, on the black canal bridge of a busy town, with more fires and smoke than he has seen yet, the trooper, dark with dust, stops his horse and asks a workman does he know the name of Rouncewell thereabouts.
"Why, master, 'tis well known.


"Rouncewell's? Ah! You're right."
"And where might it be now?" asks the trooper with a glance before him.
"The bank, the factory, or the house?" the workman wants to know.


"Hum! Rouncewell's is so great apparently," mutters the trooper, stroking his chin, "that I have as good as half a mind to go back again. Why, I don't know which I want. Should I find Mr. Rouncewell at the factory, do you think?"
"Tain't easy to say where you'd find him--at this time of the day you might find either him or his son there, if he's in town; but his contracts take him away."

"Hum! Rouncewell's is so great apparently," mutters the trooper, stroking his chin, "that I have half a mind to go back again. Why, I don't know. Should I find Mr. Rouncewell at the factory, do you think?"
"'Tain't easy to say - you might find either him or his son there, if he's in town; but his contracts take him away."


And which is the factory? Why, he sees those chimneys--the tallest ones! Yes, he sees THEM. Well! Let him keep his eye on those chimneys, going on as straight as ever he can, and presently he'll see 'em down a turning on the left, shut in by a great brick wall which forms one side of the street. That's Rouncewell's.
The trooper thanks his informant and rides slowly on, looking about him. He does not turn back, but puts up his horse (and is much disposed to groom him too) at a public-house where some of Rouncewell's hands are dining, as the ostler tells him. Some of Rouncewell's hands have just knocked off for dinner-time and seem to be invading the whole town. They are very sinewy and strong, are Rouncewell's hands--a little sooty too.

And which is the factory? Why, he sees those tall chimneys? Let him keep his eye on those, going on straight, and presently he'll see 'em down a turning on the left, shut in by a great brick wall. That's Rouncewell's.
The trooper thanks his informant and rides slowly on. He puts up his horse at a public-house where some of Rouncewell's factory-hands are dining, as the ostler tells him. They have just knocked off for dinner-time and seem to be invading the whole town. They are very sinewy and strong, and sooty too.


He comes to a gateway in the brick wall, looks in, and sees a great perplexity of iron lying about in every stage and in a vast variety of shapes--in bars, in wedges, in sheets; in tanks, in boilers, in axles, in wheels, in cogs, in cranks, in rails; twisted and wrenched into eccentric and perverse forms as separate parts of machinery; mountains of it broken up, and rusty in its age; distant furnaces of it glowing and bubbling in its youth; bright fireworks of it showering about under the blows of the steam-hammer; red-hot iron, white-hot iron, cold-black iron; an iron taste, an iron smell, and a Babel of iron sounds.
"This is a place to make a man's head ache too!" says the trooper, looking about him for a counting-house. "Who comes here? This is very like me before I was set up. This ought to be my nephew, if likenesses run in families. Your servant, sir."
"Yours, sir. Are you looking for any one?"

He comes to a gateway in the brick wall, looks in, and sees a great perplexity of iron lying about in a vast variety of shapes - in bars, sheets, tanks, boilers, axles, wheels, cogs and rails; mountains of it broken up and rusty; distant furnaces glow, and bright fireworks shower under the blows of the steam-hammer. There is an iron taste, an iron smell, and a Babel of iron sounds.
"This is a place to make a man's head ache!" says the trooper. "Who comes here? He looks very like me before I was set up. This ought to be my nephew.


"Excuse me. Young Mr. Rouncewell, I believe?"
"Yes."
"I was looking for your father, sir. I wish to have a word with him."
The young man, telling him he is fortunate in his choice of a time, for his father is there, leads the way to the office where he is to be found. "Very like me before I was set up--devilish like me!" thinks the trooper as he follows. They come to a building in the yard with an office on an upper floor. At sight of the gentleman in the office, Mr. George turns very red.

Excuse me, sir. Young Mr. Rouncewell, I believe?"
"Yes, sir. Were you looking for anyone?"
"I was looking for your father, sir. I wish to have a word with him."
The young man leads the way to the office. "Devilish like me!" thinks the trooper as he follows. They come to a building in the yard with an office on an upper floor. At the sight of the gentleman in the office, Mr. George turns very red.


"What name shall I say to my father?" asks the young man.
George, full of the idea of iron, in desperation answers "Steel," and is so presented. He is left alone with the gentleman in the office, who sits at a table with account-books before him and some sheets of paper blotted with hosts of figures and drawings of cunning shapes. It is a bare office, with bare windows, looking on the iron view below. Tumbled together on the table are some pieces of iron, purposely broken to be tested at various periods of their service, in various capacities. There is iron-dust on everything; and the smoke is seen through the windows rolling heavily out of the tall chimneys to mingle with the smoke from a vaporous Babylon of other chimneys.
"I am at your service, Mr. Steel," says the gentleman when his visitor has taken a rusty chair.

"What name shall I say to my father?" asks the young man.
George in desperation answers "Steel," and is so presented. He is left alone with the gentleman in the office, who sits at a table with account-books before him. Tumbled together on the table are some pieces of iron, purposely broken to be tested in various capacities. There is iron-dust on everything; and the smoke is seen through the windows rolling heavily out of the tall chimneys.
"I am at your service, Mr. Steel," says the gentleman.


"Well, Mr. Rouncewell," George replies, leaning forward with his left arm on his knee and his hat in his hand, and very chary of meeting his brother's eye, "I am not without my expectations that in the present visit I may prove to be more free than welcome. I have served as a dragoon in my day, and a comrade of mine that I was once rather partial to was, if I don't deceive myself, a brother of yours. I believe you had a brother who gave his family some trouble, and ran away, and never did any good but in keeping away?"
"Are you quite sure," returns the ironmaster in an altered voice, "that your name is Steel?"
The trooper falters and looks at him. His brother starts up, calls him by his name, and grasps him by both hands.

"Well, Mr. Rouncewell," George replies, leaning forward and very chary of meeting his brother's eye, "I may not be fully welcome. I have served as a dragoon in my day, and a comrade of mine was a brother of yours. I believe you had a brother who gave his family some trouble, and ran away, and never did any good but in keeping away?"
"Are you quite sure," returns the ironmaster in an altered voice, "that your name is Steel?"
The trooper falters and looks at him. His brother starts up, calls him by his name, and grasps him by both hands.


"You are too quick for me!" cries the trooper with the tears springing out of his eyes. "How do you do, my dear old fellow? I never could have thought you would have been half so glad to see me as all this. How do you do, my dear old fellow, how do you do!"
They shake hands and embrace each other over and over again, the trooper still coupling his "How do you do, my dear old fellow!" with his protestation that he never thought his brother would have been half so glad to see him as all this!
"So far from it," he declares at the end of a full account of what has preceded his arrival there, "I had very little idea of making myself known. I thought if you took by any means forgivingly to my name I might gradually get myself up to the point of writing a letter. But I should not have been surprised, brother, if you had considered it anything but welcome news to hear of me."

"You are too quick for me!" cries the trooper with the tears springing out of his eyes. "How do you do, my dear old fellow? I never could have thought you would have been half so glad to see me as all this."
They embrace each other, the trooper still protesting that he never thought his brother would have been half so glad to see him as all this!
"So far from it," he declares, after a full account of what has preceded his arrival, "I had very little idea of making myself known. I thought if you reacted forgivingly to my name I might get myself up to the point of writing a letter. But I should not have been surprised, brother, if you had considered it unwelcome news to hear of me."


"We will show you at home what kind of news we think it, George," returns his brother. "This is a great day at home, and you could not have arrived, you bronzed old soldier, on a better. I make an agreement with my son Watt to-day that on this day twelvemonth he shall marry as pretty and as good a girl as you have seen in all your travels. She goes to Germany to-morrow with one of your nieces for a little polishing up in her education. We make a feast of the event, and you will be made the hero of it."

"We will show you at home what kind of news we think it, George," returns his brother. "You could not have arrived on a better day. I make an agreement with my son Watt today that on this day twelvemonth he shall marry as pretty and good a girl as you have seen in all your travels. She goes to Germany tomorrow with one of your nieces for a little polishing up in her education. We make a feast of the event, and you will be the hero of it."


Mr. George is so entirely overcome at first by this prospect that he resists the proposed honour with great earnestness. Being overborne, however, by his brother and his nephew--concerning whom he renews his protestations that he never could have thought they would have been half so glad to see him--he is taken home to an elegant house in all the arrangements of which there is to be observed a pleasant mixture of the originally simple habits of the father and mother with such as are suited to their altered station and the higher fortunes of their children. Here Mr. George is much dismayed by the graces and accomplishments of his nieces that are and by the beauty of Rosa, his niece that is to be, and by the affectionate salutations of these young ladies, which he receives in a sort of dream. He is sorely taken aback, too, by the dutiful behaviour of his nephew and has a woeful consciousness upon him of being a scapegrace. However, there is great rejoicing and a very hearty company and infinite enjoyment, and Mr. George comes bluff and martial through it all, and his pledge to be present at the marriage and give away the bride is received with universal favour. A whirling head has Mr. George that night when he lies down in the state-bed of his brother's house to think of all these things and to see the images of his nieces (awful all the evening in their floating muslins) waltzing, after the German manner, over his counterpane.
The brothers are closeted next morning in the ironmaster's room, where the elder is proceeding, in his clear sensible way, to show how he thinks he may best dispose of George in his business, when George squeezes his hand and stops him.

Mr. George is so entirely overcome that at first he resists the proposed honour. Being overborne, however, by his brother and his nephew, he is taken home to an elegant house which shows a pleasant mixture of the originally simple habits of the father and mother with the higher fortunes of their children.
Here Mr. George is much dismayed by the graces and affection of his nieces and by the beauty of Rosa, his niece that is to be. He is sorely taken aback, too, by the dutiful behaviour of his nephew and has a woeful consciousness of being a scapegrace. However, there is great rejoicing and a very hearty company, and Mr. George comes bluff and martial through it all. His pledge to be present at the marriage is received with universal favour. A whirling head has Mr. George that night when he lies down in bed.
The brothers are closeted next morning in the ironmaster's room. The elder is proceeding, in his sensible way, to show how he thinks he may place George in his business, when George squeezes his hand and stops him.


"Brother, I thank you a million times for your more than brotherly welcome, and a million times more to that for your more than brotherly intentions. But my plans are made. Before I say a word as to them, I wish to consult you upon one family point. How," says the trooper, folding his arms and looking with indomitable firmness at his brother, "how is my mother to be got to scratch me?"
"I am not sure that I understand you, George," replies the ironmaster.
"I say, brother, how is my mother to be got to scratch me? She must be got to do it somehow."
"Scratch you out of her will, I think you mean?"
"Of course I do. In short," says the trooper, folding his arms more resolutely yet, "I mean--TO--scratch me!"

"Brother, I thank you a million times for your welcome, and a million times more for your brotherly intentions. But my plans are made. Before I say a word about them, I wish to consult you upon one family point. How," says the trooper, folding his arms firmly, "how is my mother to be got to scratch me?"
"I am not sure that I understand you, George," replies the ironmaster. "Scratch you out of her will, you mean?"
"Of course I do.


"My dear George," returns his brother, "is it so indispensable that you should undergo that process?"
"Quite! Absolutely! I couldn't be guilty of the meanness of coming back without it. I should never be safe not to be off again. I have not sneaked home to rob your children, if not yourself, brother, of your rights. I, who forfeited mine long ago! If I am to remain and hold up my head, I must be scratched. Come. You are a man of celebrated penetration and intelligence, and you can tell me how it's to be brought about."

I have not sneaked home to rob your children of their rights. I, who forfeited mine long ago! If I am to hold up my head, I must be scratched."


"I can tell you, George," replies the ironmaster deliberately, "how it is not to be brought about, which I hope may answer the purpose as well. Look at our mother, think of her, recall her emotion when she recovered you. Do you believe there is a consideration in the world that would induce her to take such a step against her favourite son? Do you believe there is any chance of her consent, to balance against the outrage it would be to her (loving dear old lady!) to propose it? If you do, you are wrong. No, George! You must make up your mind to remain UNscratched, I think." There is an amused smile on the ironmaster's face as he watches his brother, who is pondering, deeply disappointed. "I think you may manage almost as well as if the thing were done, though."

"George," replies the ironmaster deliberately, "look at our mother, recall her emotion when she recovered you. Do you believe anything in the world would induce her to take such a step against her favourite son? No, George! You must make up your mind to remain unscratched, I think." There is an amused smile on the ironmaster's face as he watches his brother, who is pondering, deeply disappointed. "I think you may manage almost as well as if the thing were done, though."


"How, brother?"
"Being bent upon it, you can dispose by will of anything you have the misfortune to inherit in any way you like, you know."
"That's true!" says the trooper, pondering again. Then he wistfully asks, with his hand on his brother's, "Would you mind mentioning that, brother, to your wife and family?"
"Not at all."
"Thank you. You wouldn't object to say, perhaps, that although an undoubted vagabond, I am a vagabond of the harum-scarum order, and not of the mean sort?"
The ironmaster, repressing his amused smile, assents.

"How, brother?"
"You can dispose by will of anything you have the misfortune to inherit in any way you like, you know."
"That's true!" says the trooper, pondering again. "Would you mind mentioning that, brother, to your wife and family?"
"Not at all."
"You wouldn't object to say, perhaps, that although an undoubted vagabond, I am a vagabond of the harum-scarum type, and not of the mean sort?"
The ironmaster, repressing his smile, assents.


"Thank you. Thank you. It's a weight off my mind," says the trooper with a heave of his chest as he unfolds his arms and puts a hand on each leg, "though I had set my heart on being scratched, too!"
The brothers are very like each other, sitting face to face; but a certain massive simplicity and absence of usage in the ways of the world is all on the trooper's side.
"Well," he proceeds, throwing off his disappointment, "next and last, those plans of mine. You have been so brotherly as to propose to me to fall in here and take my place among the products of your perseverance and sense. I thank you heartily. It's more than brotherly, as I said before, and I thank you heartily for it," shaking him a long time by the hand. "But the truth is, brother, I am a--I am a kind of a weed, and it's too late to plant me in a regular garden."
"My dear George," returns the elder, concentrating his strong steady brow upon him and smiling confidently, "leave that to me, and let me try."

"Thank you. It's a weight off my mind," says the trooper, "though I had set my heart on being scratched, too!"
The brothers are very like each other, sitting face to face; but a certain massive simplicity is all on the trooper's side.
"Well," he proceeds, "next and last, those plans of mine. You have been so brotherly as to propose to me to fall in here, and I thank you heartily," shaking him a long time by the hand. "But the truth is, brother, I am a kind of weed, and it's too late to plant me in a regular garden.


George shakes his head. "You could do it, I have not a doubt, if anybody could; but it's not to be done. Not to be done, sir! Whereas it so falls out, on the other hand, that I am able to be of some trifle of use to Sir Leicester Dedlock since his illness--brought on by family sorrows--and that he would rather have that help from our mother's son than from anybody else."
"Well, my dear George," returns the other with a very slight shade upon his open face, "if you prefer to serve in Sir Leicester Dedlock's household brigade--"

It is not to be done, sir! Whereas, on the other hand, I am able to be of some use to Sir Leicester Dedlock since his illness, and he would rather have that help from our mother's son than from anybody else."
"Well, my dear George," returns the other with a very slight shadow upon his open face, "if you prefer to serve in Sir Leicester Dedlock's household brigade-"


"There it is, brother," cries the trooper, checking him, with his hand upon his knee again; "there it is! You don't take kindly to that idea; I don't mind it. You are not used to being officered; I am. Everything about you is in perfect order and discipline; everything about me requires to be kept so. We are not accustomed to carry things with the same hand or to look at 'em from the same point. I don't say much about my garrison manners because I found myself pretty well at my ease last night, and they wouldn't be noticed here, I dare say, once and away. But I shall get on best at Chesney Wold, where there's more room for a weed than there is here; and the dear old lady will be made happy besides. Therefore I accept of Sir Leicester Dedlock's proposals. When I come over next year to give away the bride, or whenever I come, I shall have the sense to keep the household brigade in ambuscade and not to manoeuvre it on your ground. I thank you heartily again and am proud to think of the Rouncewells as they'll be founded by you."

"There it is, brother," cries the trooper, stopping him. "You don't take kindly to that idea; I don't mind it. Everything about you is in perfect order and discipline; everything about me requires to be kept so. I shall get on best at Chesney Wold, where there's more room for a weed than there is here; and the dear old lady will be made happy besides. Therefore I accept Sir Leicester Dedlock's proposals. I thank you heartily again and am proud to think of the Rouncewells as they'll be founded by you."


"You know yourself, George," says the elder brother, returning the grip of his hand, "and perhaps you know me better than I know myself. Take your way. So that we don't quite lose one another again, take your way."
"No fear of that!" returns the trooper. "Now, before I turn my horse's head homewards, brother, I will ask you--if you'll be so good--to look over a letter for me. I brought it with me to send from these parts, as Chesney Wold might be a painful name just now to the person it's written to. I am not much accustomed to correspondence myself, and I am particular respecting this present letter because I want it to be both straightforward and delicate."
Herewith he hands a letter, closely written in somewhat pale ink but in a neat round hand, to the ironmaster, who reads as follows:
Miss Esther Summerson,

"You know yourself, George," says the elder brother, returning the grip of his hand, "and perhaps you know me better than I know myself. Take your way, so long as we don't lose one another again."
"No fear of that!" returns the trooper. "Now, before I go home, brother, I will ask you - if you'll be so good - to look over a letter for me. I brought it with me to send from these parts, as Chesney Wold might be a painful name just now to the person it's written to. I am not much accustomed to correspondence, and I want this letter to be both straightforward and delicate."
Herewith he hands a letter, closely written in a neat round hand, to the ironmaster, who reads as follows:
Miss Esther Summerson,


A communication having been made to me by Inspector Bucket of a letter to myself being found among the papers of a certain person, I take the liberty to make known to you that it was but a few lines of instruction from abroad, when, where, and how to deliver an enclosed letter to a young and beautiful lady, then unmarried, in England. I duly observed the same.
I further take the liberty to make known to you that it was got from me as a proof of handwriting only and that otherwise I would not have given it up, as appearing to be the most harmless in my possession, without being previously shot through the heart.
I further take the liberty to mention that if I could have supposed a certain unfortunate gentleman to have been in existence, I never could and never would have rested until I had discovered his retreat and shared my last farthing with him, as my duty and my inclination would have equally been. But he was (officially) reported drowned, and assuredly went over the side of a transport-ship at night in an Irish harbour within a few hours of her arrival from the West Indies, as I have myself heard both from officers and men on board, and know to have been (officially) confirmed.
I further take the liberty to state that in my humble quality as one of the rank and file, I am, and shall ever continue to be, your thoroughly devoted and admiring servant and that I esteem the qualities you possess above all others far beyond the limits of the present dispatch.
I have the honour to be,
GEORGE
"A little formal," observes the elder brother, refolding it with a puzzled face.

Inspector Bucket having informed me of a letter to myself being found among the papers of a certain person, I take the liberty to make known to you that it was but a few lines of instruction from abroad, about when and where to deliver an enclosed letter to a young and beautiful lady, then unmarried, in England. I duly observed the same.
I further take the liberty to make known to you that it was got from me as a proof of handwriting only and that otherwise I would not have given it up, unless shot through the heart.
I further take the liberty to mention that if I could have supposed a certain unfortunate gentleman to have been living, I never could have rested until I had discovered him and shared my last farthing with him. But he was reported drowned, and assuredly went over the side of a transport-ship at night in an Irish harbour within a few hours of her arrival from the West Indies, as I have myself heard both from officers and men on board.
I further take the liberty to state that in my humble quality as one of the rank and file, I am, and shall ever be, your thoroughly devoted and admiring servant.
I have the honour to be,
George
"A little formal," observes the elder brother, refolding it with a puzzled face.


"But nothing that might not be sent to a pattern young lady?" asks the younger.
"Nothing at all."
Therefore it is sealed and deposited for posting among the iron correspondence of the day. This done, Mr. George takes a hearty farewell of the family party and prepares to saddle and mount. His brother, however, unwilling to part with him so soon, proposes to ride with him in a light open carriage to the place where he will bait for the night, and there remain with him until morning, a servant riding for so much of the journey on the thoroughbred old grey from Chesney Wold. The offer, being gladly accepted, is followed by a pleasant ride, a pleasant dinner, and a pleasant breakfast, all in brotherly communion. Then they once more shake hands long and heartily and part, the ironmaster turning his face to the smoke and fires, and the trooper to the green country. Early in the afternoon the subdued sound of his heavy military trot is heard on the turf in the avenue as he rides on with imaginary clank and jingle of accoutrements under the old elm-trees.

"But nothing that might not be sent to a modest young lady?" asks the younger.
"Nothing at all."
Therefore it is deposited for posting among the iron correspondence of the day. This done, Mr. George takes a hearty farewell of the family and prepares to saddle. His brother, however, unwilling to part with him so soon, proposes to ride with him to the inn where he will rest for the night, and there remain with him until morning.
The offer, gladly accepted, is followed by a pleasant ride, a pleasant dinner, and a pleasant breakfast, all in brotherly communion. Then they once more shake hands and part, the ironmaster turning his face to the smoke and fires, and the trooper to the green country. Early in the afternoon the subdued sound of his heavy military trot is heard on the turf in the avenue, as he rides on under the old elm-trees.


I don't know how it is I seem to be always writing about myself. I mean all the time to write about other people, and I try to think about myself as little as possible, and I am sure, when I find myself coming into the story again, I am really vexed and say, "Dear, dear, you tiresome little creature, I wish you wouldn't!" but it is all of no use. I hope any one who may read what I write will understand that if these pages contain a great deal about me, I can only suppose it must be because I have really something to do with them and can't be kept out.
My darling and I read together, and worked, and practised, and found so much employment for our time that the winter days flew by us like bright-winged birds. Generally in the afternoons, and always in the evenings, Richard gave us his company. Although he was one of the most restless creatures in the world, he certainly was very fond of our society.

I don't know how it is I seem to be always writing about myself. I mean all the time to write about other people, and when I find myself coming into the story again, I am really vexed; but it is of no use. I hope anyone who may read this will understand that it is because I have really something to do with the story and can't be kept out.
My darling Ada and I read together, and worked, and practised so busily that the winter days flew by like bright-winged birds. In some afternoons, and always in the evenings, Richard gave us his company. Although he was a restless creature, he was very fond of our society.


He was very, very, very fond of Ada. I mean it, and I had better say it at once. I had never seen any young people falling in love before, but I found them out quite soon. I could not say so, of course, or show that I knew anything about it. On the contrary, I was so demure and used to seem so unconscious that sometimes I considered within myself while I was sitting at work whether I was not growing quite deceitful.
But there was no help for it. All I had to do was to be quiet, and I was as quiet as a mouse. They were as quiet as mice too, so far as any words were concerned, but the innocent manner in which they relied more and more upon me as they took more and more to one another was so charming that I had great difficulty in not showing how it interested me.
"Our dear little old woman is such a capital old woman," Richard would say, coming up to meet me in the garden early, with his pleasant laugh and perhaps the least tinge of a blush, "that I can't get on without her. Before I begin my harum-scarum day--grinding away at those books and instruments and then galloping up hill and down dale, all the country round, like a highwayman--it does me so much good to come and have a steady walk with our comfortable friend, that here I am again!"

He was very, very fond of Ada. I had better say it at once. I had never seen any young people falling in love before, but I found them out quite soon. I could not say so, of course, or show that I knew anything about it. On the contrary, I used to seem so unconscious of it that sometimes I wondered whether I was growing deceitful.
I was as quiet as a mouse, and they were as quiet as mice too, so far as any words were concerned, but as they took more and more to one another, they relied more and more upon me, with an innocent charm.
"Our dear little old woman is such a capital old woman," Richard would say, coming up to meet me in the garden early, with his pleasant laugh and perhaps the least tinge of a blush, "that I can't get on without her. Before I begin grinding away at my books, it does me so much good to come and have a steady walk with our comfortable friend!"


"You know, Dame Durden, dear," Ada would say at night, with her head upon my shoulder and the firelight shining in her thoughtful eyes, "I don't want to talk when we come upstairs here. Only to sit a little while thinking, with your dear face for company, and to hear the wind and remember the poor sailors at sea--"
Ah! Perhaps Richard was going to be a sailor. We had talked it over very often now, and there was some talk of gratifying the inclination of his childhood for the sea. Mr. Jarndyce had written to a relation of the family, a great Sir Leicester Dedlock, for his interest in Richard's favour, generally; and Sir Leicester had replied in a gracious manner that he would be happy to advance the prospects of the young gentleman if it should ever prove to be within his power, which was not at all probable, and that my Lady sent her compliments to the young gentleman (to whom she perfectly remembered that she was allied by remote consanguinity) and trusted that he would ever do his duty in any honourable profession to which he might devote himself.

"You know, Dame Durden, dear," Ada would say at night, with her head upon my shoulder, "I don't want to talk. Only to sit a little while thinking, with your dear face for company, and to hear the wind and remember the poor sailors at sea-"
Ah! Perhaps Richard was going to be a sailor. We had talked it over often now, for he had had a boyhood leaning toward the sea. Mr. Jarndyce had written to a relation of the family, a great Sir Leicester Dedlock, for his interest in Richard's favour; and Sir Leicester had replied graciously that he would be happy to advance the prospects of the young gentleman if it should ever prove to be within his power, which was not at all probable, and that my Lady sent her compliments to her young relation and trusted that he would do his duty in any honourable profession to which he might devote himself.


"So I apprehend it's pretty clear," said Richard to me, "that I shall have to work my own way. Never mind! Plenty of people have had to do that before now, and have done it. I only wish I had the command of a clipping privateer to begin with and could carry off the Chancellor and keep him on short allowance until he gave judgment in our cause. He'd find himself growing thin, if he didn't look sharp!"
With a buoyancy and hopefulness and a gaiety that hardly ever flagged, Richard had a carelessness in his character that quite perplexed me, principally because he mistook it, in such a very odd way, for prudence. It entered into all his calculations about money in a singular manner which I don't think I can better explain than by reverting for a moment to our loan to Mr. Skimpole.
Mr. Jarndyce had ascertained the amount, either from Mr. Skimpole himself or from Coavinses, and had placed the money in my hands with instructions to me to retain my own part of it and hand the rest to Richard. The number of little acts of thoughtless expenditure which Richard justified by the recovery of his ten pounds, and the number of times he talked to me as if he had saved or realized that amount, would form a sum in simple addition.

"So it's pretty clear," said Richard to me, "that I shall have to work my own way. Never mind! Plenty of people have had to do that before now!"
With a buoyancy and hopefulness and a gaiety that hardly ever flagged, Richard had a carelessness in his character that quite perplexed me, principally because he mistook it, in a very odd way, for prudence. It entered into his calculations about money in a singular manner which I can best explain by reverting to our loan to Mr. Skimpole.
Mr. Jarndyce had learnt the amount, either from Mr. Skimpole himself or from Coavinses, and had given me the money. Once I handed Richard his ten pounds, he used it to justify any number of thoughtless expenses.


"My prudent Mother Hubbard, why not?" he said to me when he wanted, without the least consideration, to bestow five pounds on the brickmaker. "I made ten pounds, clear, out of Coavinses' business."
"How was that?" said I.
"Why, I got rid of ten pounds which I was quite content to get rid of and never expected to see any more. You don't deny that?"
"No," said I.
"Very well! Then I came into possession of ten pounds--"

"My prudent Mother Hubbard, why not?" he said to me when he wanted to give five pounds to the brickmaker. "I made ten pounds out of Coavinses' business."
"How was that?" said I.
"Why, I got rid of ten pounds which I was quite content to get rid of and never expected to see any more. Then I came into possession of ten pounds-"


"The same ten pounds," I hinted.
"That has nothing to do with it!" returned Richard. "I have got ten pounds more than I expected to have, and consequently I can afford to spend it without being particular."
In exactly the same way, when he was persuaded out of the sacrifice of these five pounds by being convinced that it would do no good, he carried that sum to his credit and drew upon it.
"Let me see!" he would say. "I saved five pounds out of the brickmaker's affair, so if I have a good rattle to London and back in a post-chaise and put that down at four pounds, I shall have saved one. And it's a very good thing to save one, let me tell you: a penny saved is a penny got!"

"The same ten pounds."
"That has nothing to do with it!" returned Richard. "I have got ten pounds more than I expected to have, and so I can afford to spend it without being particular."
In the same way, when he was persuaded not to sacrifice those five pounds, by being convinced that it would do no good, he carried that sum to his credit and drew upon it.
"Let me see!" he would say. "I saved five pounds out of the brickmaker's affair, so if I go to London and back in a post-chaise for four pounds, I shall have saved one!"


I believe Richard's was as frank and generous a nature as there possibly can be. He was ardent and brave, and in the midst of all his wild restlessness, was so gentle that I knew him like a brother in a few weeks. His gentleness was natural to him and would have shown itself abundantly even without Ada's influence; but with it, he became one of the most winning of companions, always so ready to be interested and always so happy, sanguine, and light-hearted. I am sure that I, sitting with them, and walking with them, and talking with them, and noticing from day to day how they went on, falling deeper and deeper in love, and saying nothing about it, and each shyly thinking that this love was the greatest of secrets, perhaps not yet suspected even by the other--I am sure that I was scarcely less enchanted than they were and scarcely less pleased with the pretty dream.
We were going on in this way, when one morning at breakfast Mr. Jarndyce received a letter, and looking at the superscription, said, "From Boythorn? Aye, aye!" and opened and read it with evident pleasure, announcing to us in a parenthesis when he was about half-way through, that Boythorn was "coming down" on a visit. Now who was Boythorn, we all thought. And I dare say we all thought too--I am sure I did, for one--would Boythorn at all interfere with what was going forward?

I believe Richard's was as frank and generous a nature as can be. He was ardent and brave, and, for all his wild restlessness, was so gentle that I knew him like a brother in a few weeks. With Ada's influence, he became a winning companion, always ready to be interested and happy and light-hearted. I am sure that I, walking and talking with them, and noticing from day to day how they were falling deeper and deeper in love, and saying nothing, and each shyly thinking that this love was perhaps not yet suspected even by the other - I am sure that I was scarcely less enchanted than they were with the pretty dream.
We were going on in this way, when one morning at breakfast Mr. Jarndyce received a letter. Reading it with evident pleasure, he announced that Boythorn was coming on a visit that day. Now who was Boythorn, we wondered?


"I went to school with this fellow, Lawrence Boythorn," said Mr. Jarndyce, tapping the letter as he laid it on the table, "more than five and forty years ago. He was then the most impetuous boy in the world, and he is now the most impetuous man. He was then the loudest boy in the world, and he is now the loudest man. He was then the heartiest and sturdiest boy in the world, and he is now the heartiest and sturdiest man. He is a tremendous fellow."
"In stature, sir?" asked Richard.
"Pretty well, Rick, in that respect," said Mr. Jarndyce; "being some ten years older than I and a couple of inches taller, with his head thrown back like an old soldier, his stalwart chest squared, his hands like a clean blacksmith's, and his lungs! There's no simile for his lungs. Talking, laughing, or snoring, they make the beams of the house shake."

"I went to school with this fellow, Lawrence Boythorn," said Mr. Jarndyce, "five and forty years ago. He was then the most impetuous boy in the world, and the loudest and heartiest, and he is now the most impetuous and loudest and heartiest of men. He is a tremendous fellow."
"In stature, sir?" asked Richard.
"Pretty well, Rick," said Mr. Jarndyce; "being ten years older than I and a couple of inches taller - and his lungs! Talking, laughing, or snoring, they make the beams of the house shake."


As Mr. Jarndyce sat enjoying the image of his friend Boythorn, we observed the favourable omen that there was not the least indication of any change in the wind.
"But it's the inside of the man, the warm heart of the man, the passion of the man, the fresh blood of the man, Rick--and Ada, and little Cobweb too, for you are all interested in a visitor--that I speak of," he pursued. "His language is as sounding as his voice. He is always in extremes, perpetually in the superlative degree. In his condemnation he is all ferocity. You might suppose him to be an ogre from what he says, and I believe he has the reputation of one with some people. There! I tell you no more of him beforehand. You must not be surprised to see him take me under his protection, for he has never forgotten that I was a low boy at school and that our friendship began in his knocking two of my head tyrant's teeth out (he says six) before breakfast. Boythorn and his man," to me, "will be here this afternoon, my dear."

As Mr. Jarndyce talked, we observed the favourable omen that there was not the least sign of any change in the wind.
"But it's the warm heart of the man, the passion of the man, that I speak of," he pursued. "He is always in extremes. In his condemnation he is all ferocity, so that you might suppose him to be an ogre. There! I'll tell you no more beforehand. You must not be surprised to see him take me under his protection, for he has never forgotten that at school our friendship began in his knocking two of my head tyrant's teeth out."


I took care that the necessary preparations were made for Mr. Boythorn's reception, and we looked forward to his arrival with some curiosity. The afternoon wore away, however, and he did not appear. The dinner-hour arrived, and still he did not appear. The dinner was put back an hour, and we were sitting round the fire with no light but the blaze when the hall-door suddenly burst open and the hall resounded with these words, uttered with the greatest vehemence and in a stentorian tone: "We have been misdirected, Jarndyce, by a most abandoned ruffian, who told us to take the turning to the right instead of to the left. He is the most intolerable scoundrel on the face of the earth. His father must have been a most consummate villain, ever to have such a son. I would have had that fellow shot without the least remorse!"
"Did he do it on purpose?" Mr. Jarndyce inquired.

I took care that the preparations were made for Mr. Boythorn's reception, and we looked forward to his arrival with curiosity. The afternoon wore away, however, and he did not appear. The dinner-hour arrived, and still he did not appear. The dinner was put back an hour, and we were sitting round the fire when the hall-door suddenly burst open and the hall resounded with these words, uttered with the greatest vehemence:
"We have been misdirected, Jarndyce, by a ruffian, who told us to turn right instead of left. He is the most intolerable scoundrel on the face of the earth. I would have had the fellow shot!"
"Did he do it on purpose?" Mr. Jarndyce inquired.


"I have not the slightest doubt that the scoundrel has passed his whole existence in misdirecting travellers!" returned the other. "By my soul, I thought him the worst-looking dog I had ever beheld when he was telling me to take the turning to the right. And yet I stood before that fellow face to face and didn't knock his brains out!"
"Teeth, you mean?" said Mr. Jarndyce.

"I have not the slightest doubt that the scoundrel has spent his whole life in misdirecting travellers!" returned the other. "I thought him the worst-looking dog I had ever beheld when he was telling me to take the turning to the right. And yet I didn't knock his brains out!"
"Teeth, you mean?" said Mr. Jarndyce.


"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Lawrence Boythorn, really making the whole house vibrate. "What, you have not forgotten it yet! Ha, ha, ha! And that was another most consummate vagabond! By my soul, the countenance of that fellow when he was a boy was the blackest image of perfidy, cowardice, and cruelty ever set up as a scarecrow in a field of scoundrels. If I were to meet that most unparalleled despot in the streets to-morrow, I would fell him like a rotten tree!"
"I have no doubt of it," said Mr. Jarndyce. "Now, will you come upstairs?"
"By my soul, Jarndyce," returned his guest, who seemed to refer to his watch, "if you had been married, I would have turned back at the garden-gate and gone away to the remotest summits of the Himalaya Mountains sooner than I would have presented myself at this unseasonable hour."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Lawrence Boythorn, making the whole house vibrate. "What, you have not forgotten it yet! And that was another great vagabond! If I were to meet that cowardly scoundrel tomorrow, I would fell him like a rotten tree!"
"I have no doubt of it," said Mr. Jarndyce.


"Not quite so far, I hope?" said Mr. Jarndyce.
"By my life and honour, yes!" cried the visitor. "I wouldn't be guilty of the audacious insolence of keeping a lady of the house waiting all this time for any earthly consideration. I would infinitely rather destroy myself--infinitely rather!"
Talking thus, they went upstairs, and presently we heard him in his bedroom thundering "Ha, ha, ha!" and again "Ha, ha, ha!" until the flattest echo in the neighbourhood seemed to catch the contagion and to laugh as enjoyingly as he did or as we did when we heard him laugh.

Talking thus, they went upstairs, and presently we heard him in his bedroom thundering "Ha, ha, ha!" in a most contagious way.


We all conceived a prepossession in his favour, for there was a sterling quality in this laugh, and in his vigorous, healthy voice, and in the roundness and fullness with which he uttered every word he spoke, and in the very fury of his superlatives, which seemed to go off like blank cannons and hurt nothing. But we were hardly prepared to have it so confirmed by his appearance when Mr. Jarndyce presented him. He was not only a very handsome old gentleman--upright and stalwart as he had been described to us--with a massive grey head, a fine composure of face when silent, a figure that might have become corpulent but for his being so continually in earnest that he gave it no rest, and a chin that might have subsided into a double chin but for the vehement emphasis in which it was constantly required to assist; but he was such a true gentleman in his manner, so chivalrously polite, his face was lighted by a smile of so much sweetness and tenderness, and it seemed so plain that he had nothing to hide, but showed himself exactly as he was--incapable, as Richard said, of anything on a limited scale, and firing away with those blank great guns because he carried no small arms whatever--that really I could not help looking at him with equal pleasure as he sat at dinner, whether he smilingly conversed with Ada and me, or was led by Mr. Jarndyce into some great volley of superlatives, or threw up his head like a bloodhound and gave out that tremendous "Ha, ha, ha!"
"You have brought your bird with you, I suppose?" said Mr. Jarndyce.

There was a sterling quality in this laugh, and in his vigorous, healthy voice, and in the very fury of his superlatives, which seemed to go off like blank cannons and hurt nothing. When Mr. Jarndyce presented him, we saw not only a very handsome old gentleman - upright and stalwart, with a massive grey head - but such a true gentleman in his manner, so chivalrously polite, with such a sweet smile, that I could not help looking at him with pleasure as he sat at dinner, giving out that tremendous "Ha, ha, ha!"
"You have brought your bird with you, I suppose?" said Mr. Jarndyce.


"By heaven, he is the most astonishing bird in Europe!" replied the other. "He IS the most wonderful creature! I wouldn't take ten thousand guineas for that bird. I have left an annuity for his sole support in case he should outlive me. He is, in sense and attachment, a phenomenon. And his father before him was one of the most astonishing birds that ever lived!"
The subject of this laudation was a very little canary, who was so tame that he was brought down by Mr. Boythorn's man, on his forefinger, and after taking a gentle flight round the room, alighted on his master's head. To hear Mr. Boythorn presently expressing the most implacable and passionate sentiments, with this fragile mite of a creature quietly perched on his forehead, was to have a good illustration of his character, I thought.

"By heaven, he is the most astonishing bird in Europe!" replied the other. "I wouldn't take ten thousand guineas for that bird. He is a phenomenon. And his father before him was one of the most astonishing birds that ever lived!"
The subject of this speech was a very little canary, who was so tame that he was brought down by Mr. Boythorn's man, on his forefinger, and after taking a gentle flight round the room, alighted on his master's head. To hear Mr. Boythorn expressing the sternest sentiments, with this fragile mite of a creature quietly perched on his forehead, was to have a good illustration of his character, I thought.


"By my soul, Jarndyce," he said, very gently holding up a bit of bread to the canary to peck at, "if I were in your place I would seize every master in Chancery by the throat to-morrow morning and shake him until his money rolled out of his pockets and his bones rattled in his skin. I would have a settlement out of somebody, by fair means or by foul. If you would empower me to do it, I would do it for you with the greatest satisfaction!" (All this time the very small canary was eating out of his hand.)
"I thank you, Lawrence, but the suit is hardly at such a point at present," returned Mr. Jarndyce, laughing, "that it would be greatly advanced even by the legal process of shaking the bench and the whole bar."
"There never was such an infernal cauldron as that Chancery on the face of the earth!" said Mr. Boythorn. "Nothing but a mine below it on a busy day in term time, with all its records, rules, and precedents collected in it and every functionary belonging to it also, high and low, upward and downward, from its son the Accountant-General to its father the Devil, and the whole blown to atoms with ten thousand hundredweight of gunpowder, would reform it in the least!"

"By my soul, Jarndyce," he said, gently holding up a bit of bread for the canary, "if I were in your place I would seize every master in Chancery by the throat and shake him until his money rolled out of his pockets. I would have a settlement, by fair means or by foul. If you would allow me, I would do it for you with the greatest satisfaction!"
"I thank you, Lawrence, but I hardly think that would advance the suit," returned Mr. Jarndyce, laughing.
"There never was such an infernal cauldron as that Chancery!" said Mr. Boythorn. "Nothing but a bomb would reform it!"


It was impossible not to laugh at the energetic gravity with which he recommended this strong measure of reform. When we laughed, he threw up his head and shook his broad chest, and again the whole country seemed to echo to his "Ha, ha, ha!" It had not the least effect in disturbing the bird, whose sense of security was complete and who hopped about the table with its quick head now on this side and now on that, turning its bright sudden eye on its master as if he were no more than another bird.
"But how do you and your neighbour get on about the disputed right of way?" said Mr. Jarndyce. "You are not free from the toils of the law yourself!"
"The fellow has brought actions against ME for trespass, and I have brought actions against HIM for trespass," returned Mr. Boythorn. "By heaven, he is the proudest fellow breathing. It is morally impossible that his name can be Sir Leicester. It must be Sir Lucifer."

It was impossible not to laugh at his energetic gravity. When we laughed, he did too, and again the whole country seemed to echo to his "Ha, ha, ha!" It did not disturb the bird, who hopped about the table turning its bright sudden eye on its master.
"But how do you and your neighbour get on about the disputed right of way?" said Mr. Jarndyce. "You are not free from the toils of the law yourself!"
"The fellow has brought actions against me for trespass, and I have brought actions against him for trespass," returned Mr. Boythorn. "By heaven, he is the proudest fellow breathing, He should be called Sir Lucifer, not Sir Leicester."


"Complimentary to our distant relation!" said my guardian laughingly to Ada and Richard.
"I would beg Miss Clare's pardon and Mr. Carstone's pardon," resumed our visitor, "if I were not reassured by seeing in the fair face of the lady and the smile of the gentleman that it is quite unnecessary and that they keep their distant relation at a comfortable distance."
"Or he keeps us," suggested Richard.

"Complimentary to our distant relation!" said my guardian laughingly to Ada and Richard.
"I would beg your pardons," said our visitor to them, "if I were not reassured by seeing in your smiles that you keep your distant relation at a comfortable distance.


"By my soul," exclaimed Mr. Boythorn, suddenly firing another volley, "that fellow is, and his father was, and his grandfather was, the most stiff-necked, arrogant imbecile, pig-headed numskull, ever, by some inexplicable mistake of Nature, born in any station of life but a walking-stick's! The whole of that family are the most solemnly conceited and consummate blockheads! But it's no matter; he should not shut up my path if he were fifty baronets melted into one and living in a hundred Chesney Wolds, one within another, like the ivory balls in a Chinese carving. The fellow, by his agent, or secretary, or somebody, writes to me 'Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, presents his compliments to Mr. Lawrence Boythorn, and has to call his attention to the fact that the green pathway by the old parsonage-house, now the property of Mr. Lawrence Boythorn, is Sir Leicester's right of way, being in fact a portion of the park of Chesney Wold, and that Sir Leicester finds it convenient to close up the same.' I write to the fellow, 'Mr. Lawrence Boythorn presents his compliments to Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, and has to call HIS attention to the fact that he totally denies the whole of Sir Leicester Dedlock's positions on every possible subject and has to add, in reference to closing up the pathway, that he will be glad to see the man who may undertake to do it.' The fellow sends a most abandoned villain with one eye to construct a gateway. I play upon that execrable scoundrel with a fire-engine until the breath is nearly driven out of his body. The fellow erects a gate in the night. I chop it down and burn it in the morning.

By my soul," suddenly firing another volley, "that fellow is the most stiff-necked, arrogant, imbecile, pig-headed numskull ever born! The fellow, or his agent, or somebody, writes to me 'Sir Leicester Dedlock calls attention to the fact that the green pathway by the old parsonage, now the property of Mr. Lawrence Boythorn, is Sir Leicester's right of way, being in fact a portion of the park of Chesney Wold, and that Sir Leicester finds it convenient to close up the same.' I write to the fellow that I would like to see him try. The fellow sends a villain with one eye to construct a gateway. I chop it down and burn it.


He sends his myrmidons to come over the fence and pass and repass. I catch them in humane man traps, fire split peas at their legs, play upon them with the engine--resolve to free mankind from the insupportable burden of the existence of those lurking ruffians. He brings actions for trespass; I bring actions for trespass. He brings actions for assault and battery; I defend them and continue to assault and batter. Ha, ha, ha!"
To hear him say all this with unimaginable energy, one might have thought him the angriest of mankind. To see him at the very same time, looking at the bird now perched upon his thumb and softly smoothing its feathers with his forefinger, one might have thought him the gentlest. To hear him laugh and see the broad good nature of his face then, one might have supposed that he had not a care in the world, or a dispute, or a dislike, but that his whole existence was a summer joke.

He sends his servants over the fence. I catch them in humane man traps and spray them with a fire hose. He brings actions for trespass; I bring actions for trespass. He brings actions for assault and battery; I defend them and continue to assault and batter. Ha, ha, ha!"
To hear him say all this, one might have thought him the angriest of mankind. To see him at the very same time softly smoothing his bird's feathers, one might have thought him the gentlest.


"No, no," he said, "no closing up of my paths by any Dedlock! Though I willingly confess," here he softened in a moment, "that Lady Dedlock is the most accomplished lady in the world, to whom I would do any homage that a plain gentleman, and no baronet with a head seven hundred years thick, may. A man who joined his regiment at twenty and within a week challenged the most imperious and presumptuous coxcomb of a commanding officer that ever drew the breath of life through a tight waist--and got broke for it--is not the man to be walked over by all the Sir Lucifers, dead or alive, locked or unlocked. Ha, ha, ha!"
"Nor the man to allow his junior to be walked over either?" said my guardian.

"No, no," he said, "no closing up of my paths by any Dedlock! Though I willingly confess," here he softened, "that Lady Dedlock is the most accomplished lady in the world. But I am not the man to be walked over by any Sir Lucifer. Ha, ha, ha!


"Most assuredly not!" said Mr. Boythorn, clapping him on the shoulder with an air of protection that had something serious in it, though he laughed. "He will stand by the low boy, always. Jarndyce, you may rely upon him! But speaking of this trespass--with apologies to Miss Clare and Miss Summerson for the length at which I have pursued so dry a subject--is there nothing for me from your men Kenge and Carboy?"
"I think not, Esther?" said Mr. Jarndyce.
"Nothing, guardian."

But speaking of this trespass, is there nothing for me from your men Kenge and Carboy?"
"I think not, Esther?" said Mr. Jarndyce.
"Nothing, guardian."


"Much obliged!" said Mr. Boythorn. "Had no need to ask, after even my slight experience of Miss Summerson's forethought for every one about her." (They all encouraged me; they were determined to do it.) "I inquired because, coming from Lincolnshire, I of course have not yet been in town, and I thought some letters might have been sent down here. I dare say they will report progress to-morrow morning."
I saw him so often in the course of the evening, which passed very pleasantly, contemplate Richard and Ada with an interest and a satisfaction that made his fine face remarkably agreeable as he sat at a little distance from the piano listening to the music--and he had small occasion to tell us that he was passionately fond of music, for his face showed it--that I asked my guardian as we sat at the backgammon board whether Mr. Boythorn had ever been married.
"No," said he. "No."

"Much obliged!" said Mr. Boythorn. "I inquired because I thought some letters might have been sent down here. I dare say they will report progress tomorrow morning."
During that pleasant evening I saw him contemplate Richard and Ada with interest and satisfaction. I asked my guardian as we sat at the backgammon board whether Mr. Boythorn had ever been married.
"No," said he.


"But he meant to be!" said I.
"How did you find out that?" he returned with a smile. "Why, guardian," I explained, not without reddening a little at hazarding what was in my thoughts, "there is something so tender in his manner, after all, and he is so very courtly and gentle to us, and--"
Mr. Jarndyce directed his eyes to where he was sitting as I have just described him.
I said no more.

"But he meant to be!" said I.
"How did you find out that?" he returned with a smile.
"Why, guardian," I explained, reddening a little, "there is something so tender in his manner, and he is so very courtly and gentle to us."


"You are right, little woman," he answered. "He was all but married once. Long ago. And once."
"Did the lady die?"
"No--but she died to him. That time has had its influence on all his later life. Would you suppose him to have a head and a heart full of romance yet?"
"I think, guardian, I might have supposed so. But it is easy to say that when you have told me so."

"You are right, little woman," he answered. "He was all but married once, long ago."
"Did the lady die?"
"No - but she died to him. That time has had its influence on all his later life.


"He has never since been what he might have been," said Mr. Jarndyce, "and now you see him in his age with no one near him but his servant and his little yellow friend. It's your throw, my dear!"
I felt, from my guardian's manner, that beyond this point I could not pursue the subject without changing the wind. I therefore forbore to ask any further questions. I was interested, but not curious. I thought a little while about this old love story in the night, when I was awakened by Mr. Boythorn's lusty snoring; and I tried to do that very difficult thing, imagine old people young again and invested with the graces of youth. But I fell asleep before I had succeeded, and dreamed of the days when I lived in my godmother's house. I am not sufficiently acquainted with such subjects to know whether it is at all remarkable that I almost always dreamed of that period of my life.
With the morning there came a letter from Messrs. Kenge and Carboy to Mr. Boythorn informing him that one of their clerks would wait upon him at noon. As it was the day of the week on which I paid the bills, and added up my books, and made all the household affairs as compact as possible, I remained at home while Mr. Jarndyce, Ada, and Richard took advantage of a very fine day to make a little excursion, Mr. Boythorn was to wait for Kenge and Carboy's clerk and then was to go on foot to meet them on their return.

He has never been what he might have been," said Mr. Jarndyce, "and now you see him in his age with no one near him but his servant and his little bird. It's your throw, my dear!"
I felt, from my guardian's manner, that I could not pursue the subject without changing the wind, and asked no more questions. But I thought a little while about this old love story in the night; and I tried to do that very difficult thing, imagine old people young again. I fell asleep before I had succeeded, and dreamed of the days when I lived in my godmother's house. I do not know whether it is at all remarkable that I almost always dreamed of that period of my life.
With the morning there came a letter from Messrs. Kenge and Carboy to Mr. Boythorn informing him that one of their clerks would call upon him at noon. As it was the day of the week on which I paid the bills, and added up my house-keeping books, I remained at home while Mr. Jarndyce, Ada, and Richard went out. Mr. Boythorn was to wait for the clerk and then would go and meet them.