She cannot afford, and he cannot afford, the remotest chance of another separation from a friend.

She cannot afford the chance of another separation from a friend.


Therefore I have particularly begged of Woodcourt, and I now particularly beg of you, my dear, not to move this subject with Rick.

Therefore I have begged of Woodcourt, and now beg of you, not to raise this subject with Rick.


Next week, next month, next year, sooner or later, he will see me with clearer eyes.

Sooner or later, he will see me with clearer eyes.


But I had already discussed it with him, I confessed; and so, I thought, had Mr. Woodcourt.

But I had already discussed it with Rick, I confessed; and so, I thought, had Mr. Woodcourt.


He has made his protest, and Dame Durden has made hers, and there is nothing more to be said about it.

He has made his protest, and Dame Durden has made hers; and there is nothing more to be said about it.


In answer to this question, which was oddly abrupt, I said I liked her very much and thought she was more agreeable than she used to be.

In answer to this abrupt question, I said I liked her very much and thought she was more agreeable than she used to be.


Not so much of Morgan ap--what's his name?"

"Not so much of Morgan ap - what's his name?"


That was what I meant, I acknowledged, though he was a very harmless person, even when we had had more of him.

That was what I meant, I acknowledged, harmless though he was.


"Still, upon the whole, he is as well in his native mountains," said my guardian.


Then, little woman, can I do better for a time than retain Mrs. Woodcourt here?"

"Then, little woman, can I keep Mrs. Woodcourt here for a little while?"


My guardian looked at me, waiting for what I had to say.


At least I had nothing in my mind that I could say.


I had an undefined impression that it might have been better if we had had some other inmate, but I could hardly have explained why even to myself.

I had an undefined impression that it might have been better if we had had some other guest, but I could hardly have explained why even to myself.


Or, if to myself, certainly not to anybody else.


"You see," said my guardian, "our neighbourhood is in Woodcourt's way, and he can come here to see her as often as he likes, which is agreeable to them both; and she is familiar to us and fond of you."

"You see," said my guardian, "Woodcourt can come here to see her as often as he likes, which is agreeable to them both; and she is familiar to us and fond of you."


I had nothing to say against it. I could not have suggested a better arrangement, but I was not quite easy in my mind.

I had nothing to say against it, but I was not quite easy in my mind.


"It is a very good plan indeed, dear guardian, and we could not do better."

"It is a very good plan, dear guardian."


I had had a moment's time to think, since I had urged that duty on myself, and I was quite sure.

I urged myself to think, and I was quite sure.


"Carried unanimously," I repeated, going on with my work.


It was a cover for his book-table that I happened to be ornamenting.

It was a cover for his book-table that I happened to be embroidering.


It had been laid by on the night preceding my sad journey and never resumed.


I showed it to him now, and he admired it highly.


After I had explained the pattern to him and all the great effects that were to come out by and by, I thought I would go back to our last theme.

After I had explained the pattern to him, I thought I would go back to our last theme.


"You said, dear guardian, when we spoke of Mr. Woodcourt before Ada left us, that you thought he would give a long trial to another country.

"You said, dear guardian, when we spoke of Mr. Woodcourt earlier, that you thought he would give a long trial to another country.


"Some other prospect has opened to him, perhaps?"


"Why--yes--perhaps," returned my guardian, beginning his answer in a very deliberate manner.

"Why - yes - perhaps," returned my guardian, in a very deliberate manner.


"About half a year hence or so, there is a medical attendant for the poor to be appointed at a certain place in Yorkshire.

"In about six months, a doctor for the poor is to be appointed in Yorkshire.


It is a thriving place, pleasantly situated--streams and streets, town and country, mill and moor--and seems to present an opening for such a man.

It is a thriving place, pleasantly situated - town and country, mill and moor - and seems to present an opening for such a man.


I mean a man whose hopes and aims may sometimes lie (as most men's sometimes do, I dare say) above the ordinary level, but to whom the ordinary level will be high enough after all if it should prove to be a way of usefulness and good service leading to no other.

I mean a man whose hopes and aims may sometimes lie above the ordinary level, but to whom the ordinary level will be high enough after all if it should prove to be a way of usefulness and good service.


All generous spirits are ambitious, I suppose, but the ambition that calmly trusts itself to such a road, instead of spasmodically trying to fly over it, is of the kind I care for.

The ambition that calmly trusts itself to such a road is the kind I care for.


"Why, little woman," returned my guardian, smiling, "not being an oracle, I cannot confidently say, but I think so.


His reputation stands very high; there were people from that part of the country in the shipwreck; and strange to say, I believe the best man has the best chance.

His reputation stands very high; there were people from that part of the country in the shipwreck.


You must not suppose it to be a fine endowment.


It is a very, very commonplace affair, my dear, an appointment to a great amount of work and a small amount of pay; but better things will gather about it, it may be fairly hoped."

There will be a great amount of work and a small amount of pay; but better things will gather about it, it may be hoped."


"The poor of that place will have reason to bless the choice if it falls on Mr. Woodcourt, guardian."


"You are right, little woman; that I am sure they will."


We said no more about it, nor did he say a word about the future of Bleak House.

We said no more about it, nor about the future of Bleak House.


But it was the first time I had taken my seat at his side in my mourning dress, and that accounted for it, I considered.


I now began to visit my dear girl every day in the dull dark corner where she lived.


The morning was my usual time, but whenever I found I had an hour or so to spare, I put on my bonnet and bustled off to Chancery Lane.

Whenever I had an hour or so to spare, I put on my bonnet and bustled off to Chancery Lane.


They were both so glad to see me at all hours, and used to brighten up so when they heard me opening the door and coming in (being quite at home, I never knocked), that I had no fear of becoming troublesome just yet.

They were both so glad to see me at all hours, that I had no fear of becoming troublesome just yet.


On these occasions I frequently found Richard absent.


At other times he would be writing or reading papers in the cause at that table of his, so covered with papers, which was never disturbed.

At other times he would be writing or reading at that table of his, always covered with papers.


Sometimes I would come upon him lingering at the door of Mr. Vholes's office. Sometimes I would meet him in the neighbourhood lounging about and biting his nails.

Sometimes I would find him lingering at the door of Mr. Vholes's office, or lounging about the neighbourhood and biting his nails.


I often met him wandering in Lincoln's Inn, near the place where I had first seen him, oh how different, how different!

I often met him wandering in Lincoln's Inn, near the place where I had first seen him, but oh, how different!


That the money Ada brought him was melting away with the candles I used to see burning after dark in Mr. Vholes's office I knew very well.

I knew that the money Ada brought him was melting away.


It was not a large amount in the beginning, he had married in debt, and I could not fail to understand, by this time, what was meant by Mr. Vholes's shoulder being at the wheel--as I still heard it was.

It was not a large amount in the beginning; he had married in debt, and I heard that Mr. Vholes's shoulder was still at the wheel.


My dear made the best of housekeepers and tried hard to save, but I knew that they were getting poorer and poorer every day.

My dear made the best of housekeepers and tried hard to save, but they were getting poorer every day.


She shone in the miserable corner like a beautiful star.


She adorned and graced it so that it became another place.


Paler than she had been at home, and a little quieter than I had thought natural when she was yet so cheerful and hopeful, her face was so unshadowed that I half believed she was blinded by her love for Richard to his ruinous career.

Paler than she had been at home, and a little quieter than before, her face was so unshadowed that I half believed she was blinded by her love for Richard to his ruinous career.


I went one day to dine with them while I was under this impression.


As I turned into Symond's Inn, I met little Miss Flite coming out.


She had been to make a stately call upon the wards in Jarndyce, as she still called them, and had derived the highest gratification from that ceremony.


Ada had already told me that she called every Monday at five o'clock, with one little extra white bow in her bonnet, which never appeared there at any other time, and with her largest reticule of documents on her arm.

Ada had already told me that she called every Monday at five o'clock, with one little extra white bow in her bonnet, and with her bag of documents on her arm.


And you are going to visit our interesting Jarndyce wards?


Our beauty is at home, my dear, and will be charmed to see you."


"I am glad of that, for I was afraid of being a little late."


"No, he is not come in," returned Miss Flite. "He has had a long day in court.


"I am afraid you see Richard oftener than ever now," said I.

"I am afraid you see Richard there oftener than ever now," said I.


"My dearest," returned Miss Flite, "daily and hourly.


You know what I told you of the attraction on the Chancellor's table?


My dear, next to myself he is the most constant suitor in court.

Next to myself he is the most constant suitor in court.


He begins quite to amuse our little party.


Ve-ry friendly little party, are we not?"


It was miserable to hear this from her poor mad lips, though it was no surprise.


"In short, my valued friend," pursued Miss Flite, advancing her lips to my ear with an air of equal patronage and mystery, "I must tell you a secret.


Nominated, constituted, and appointed him.


"Ye-es," repeated Miss Flite in her most genteel accents, "my executor, administrator, and assign.


"I have reflected that if I should wear out, he will be able to watch that judgment.


Being so very regular in his attendance."


"I did at one time mean," said Miss Flite, echoing the sigh, "to nominate, constitute, and appoint poor Gridley.

I did at one time mean to appoint poor Gridley.


Also very regular, my charming girl. I assure you, most exemplary!


But he wore out, poor man, so I have appointed his successor.


She carefully opened her reticule a little way and showed me a folded piece of paper inside as the appointment of which she spoke.


I have added to my collection of birds."


said I, knowing how it pleased her to have her confidence received with an appearance of interest.


She nodded several times, and her face became overcast and gloomy.


With 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!"


The poor soul kissed me with the most troubled look I had ever seen in her and went her way.


Her manner of running over the names of her birds, as if she were afraid of hearing them even from her own lips, quite chilled me.

Her fearful manner of running over the names of her birds quite chilled me.


This was not a cheering preparation for my visit, and I could have dispensed with the company of Mr. Vholes, when Richard (who arrived within a minute or two after me) brought him to share our dinner.

This was not a cheering preparation for my visit, and I could have dispensed with the company of Mr. Vholes, when Richard shortly brought him to share our dinner.


Although it was a very plain one, Ada and Richard were for some minutes both out of the room together helping to get ready what we were to eat and drink.

Although it was a very plain one, Ada and Richard were for some minutes both out of the room preparing it.


Mr. Vholes took that opportunity of holding a little conversation in a low voice with me.


He came to the window where I was sitting and began upon Symond's Inn.


"A dull place, Miss Summerson, for a life that is not an official one," said Mr. Vholes, smearing the glass with his black glove to make it clearer for me.


"There is not much to see here," said I.


"Nor to hear, miss," returned Mr. Vholes.


"A little music does occasionally stray in, but we are not musical in the law and soon eject it.


"I hope Mr. Jarndyce is as well as his friends could wish him?"


I thanked Mr. Vholes and said he was quite well.


"I have not the pleasure to be admitted among the number of his friends myself," said Mr. Vholes, "and I am aware that the gentlemen of our profession are sometimes regarded in such quarters with an unfavourable eye.


Our plain course, however, under good report and evil report, and all kinds of prejudice (we are the victims of prejudice), is to have everything openly carried on.

Our plain course, however, is to have everything openly carried on.


How do you find Mr. C. looking, Miss Summerson?"


"He looks very ill. Dreadfully anxious."


He stood behind me with his long black figure reaching nearly to the ceiling of those low rooms, feeling the pimples on his face as if they were ornaments and speaking inwardly and evenly as though there were not a human passion or emotion in his nature.

He stood feeling the pimples on his face as if they were ornaments and speaking evenly as though there were not a human passion in his nature.


"Mr. Woodcourt is in attendance upon Mr. C., I believe?"

"Mr. Woodcourt attends on Mr. C., I believe?"


"Mr. Woodcourt is his disinterested friend," I answered.


"But I mean in professional attendance, medical attendance."


"That can do little for an unhappy mind," said I.


So slow, so eager, so bloodless and gaunt, I felt as if Richard were wasting away beneath the eyes of this adviser and there were something of the vampire in him.

So slow, so eager, so bloodless and gaunt, I felt as if there were something of the vampire in him.


"Miss Summerson," said Mr. Vholes, very slowly rubbing his gloved hands, as if, to his cold sense of touch, they were much the same in black kid or out of it, "this was an ill-advised marriage of Mr. C.'s."

"Miss Summerson," said Mr. Vholes, very slowly rubbing his gloved hands, "this was an ill-advised marriage of Mr. C.'s."


I begged he would excuse me from discussing it.


They had been engaged when they were both very young, I told him (a little indignantly) and when the prospect before them was much fairer and brighter.


When Richard had not yielded himself to the unhappy influence which now darkened his life.


"Still, with a view to everything being openly carried on, I will, with your permission, Miss Summerson, observe to you that I consider this a very ill-advised marriage indeed.

"Still, with a view to everything being openly carried on, I will observe that I consider this a very ill-advised marriage indeed."


I owe the opinion not only to Mr. C.'s connexions, against whom I should naturally wish to protect myself, but also to my own reputation--dear to myself as a professional man aiming to keep respectable; dear to my three girls at home, for whom I am striving to realize some little independence; dear, I will even say, to my aged father, whom it is my privilege to support."


"It would become a very different marriage, a much happier and better marriage, another marriage altogether, Mr. Vholes," said I, "if Richard were persuaded to turn his back on the fatal pursuit in which you are engaged with him."

"It would become a very different marriage, a much happier and better marriage," said I, "if Richard were persuaded to turn his back on the fatal pursuit in which you are engaged with him."


Mr. Vholes, with a noiseless cough--or rather gasp--into one of his black gloves, inclined his head as if he did not wholly dispute even that.

Mr. Vholes, with a noiseless cough - or rather gasp - into one of his black gloves, inclined his head as if he did not wholly dispute it.


"Miss Summerson," he said, "it may be so; and I freely admit that the young lady who has taken Mr. C.'s name upon herself in so ill-advised a manner--you will I am sure not quarrel with me for throwing out that remark again, as a duty I owe to Mr. C.'s connexions--is a highly genteel young lady. Business has prevented me from mixing much with general society in any but a professional character; still I trust I am competent to perceive that she is a highly genteel young lady. As to beauty, I am not a judge of that myself, and I never did give much attention to it from a boy, but I dare say the young lady is equally eligible in that point of view. She is considered so (I have heard) among the clerks in the Inn, and it is a point more in their way than in mine.

"Miss Summerson," he said, "it may be so; and I freely admit that the young lady is a highly genteel young lady, and is considered a beauty (I have heard) among the clerks in the Inn.


In reference to Mr. C.'s pursuit of his interests--"

In reference to Mr. C.'s pursuit of his interests-"


"Pardon me," returned Mr. Vholes, going on in exactly the same inward and dispassionate manner.


"Mr. C. takes certain interests under certain wills disputed in the suit.


In reference to Mr. C,'s pursuit of his interests, I mentioned to you, Miss Summerson, the first time I had the pleasure of seeing you, in my desire that everything should be openly carried on--I used those words, for I happened afterwards to note them in my diary, which is producible at any time--I mentioned to you that Mr. C. had laid down the principle of watching his own interests, and that when a client of mine laid down a principle which was not of an immoral (that is to say, unlawful) nature, it devolved upon me to carry it out.

"In reference to Mr. C.'s pursuit of his interests, I mentioned to you, Miss Summerson, the first time I had the pleasure of seeing you, that Mr. C. wished to watch his own interests, and that it devolved upon me to carry out his wish.


I HAVE carried it out; I do carry it out.


But I will not smooth things over to any connexion of Mr. C.'s on any account.


As open as I was to Mr. Jarndyce, I am to you.


I regard it in the light of a professional duty to be so, though it can be charged to no one.


I openly say, unpalatable as it may be, that I consider Mr. C.'s affairs in a very bad way, that I consider Mr. C. himself in a very bad way, and that I regard this as an exceedingly ill-advised marriage.


Yes, I thank you; I am here, Mr. C., and enjoying the pleasure of some agreeable conversation with Miss Summerson, for which I have to thank you very much, sir!"


He broke off thus in answer to Richard, who addressed him as he came into the room.


By this time I too well understood Mr. Vholes's scrupulous way of saving himself and his respectability not to feel that our worst fears did but keep pace with his client's progress.


We sat down to dinner, and I had an opportunity of observing Richard, anxiously.

We sat down to dinner, and I observed Richard anxiously.


I was not disturbed by Mr. Vholes (who took off his gloves to dine), though he sat opposite to me at the small table, for I doubt if, looking up at all, he once removed his eyes from his host's face.


I found Richard thin and languid, slovenly in his dress, abstracted in his manner, forcing his spirits now and then, and at other intervals relapsing into a dull thoughtfulness.

I thought him thin and languid, slovenly in his dress, abstracted in his manner, forcing his spirits up now and then, and at other times relapsing into a dull thoughtfulness.


About his large bright eyes that used to be so merry there was a wanness and a restlessness that changed them altogether.

About his large bright eyes that used to be so merry there was a restlessness that changed them altogether.


I cannot use the expression that he looked old.


There is a ruin of youth which is not like age, and into such a ruin Richard's youth and youthful beauty had all fallen away.

There is a ruin of youth which is not like age, and into such a ruin Richard's youthful beauty had all fallen away.


He ate little and seemed indifferent what it was, showed himself to be much more impatient than he used to be, and was quick even with Ada.

He ate little and seemed indifferent to his food, was more impatient than he used to be, and was quick even with Ada.


I thought at first that his old light-hearted manner was all gone, but it shone out of him sometimes as I had occasionally known little momentary glimpses of my own old face to look out upon me from the glass.

I thought at first that his old light-hearted manner was all gone, but it shone out of him sometimes, just as occasionally little momentary glimpses of my own face looked out from the mirror.


His laugh had not quite left him either, but it was like the echo of a joyful sound, and that is always sorrowful.

His laugh had not quite left him either, but it was like the echo of a joyful sound.


Yet he was as glad as ever, in his old affectionate way, to have me there, and we talked of the old times pleasantly.

Yet he was as glad as ever to have me there, and we talked of the old times pleasantly.


These did not appear to be interesting to Mr. Vholes, though he occasionally made a gasp which I believe was his smile.


He rose shortly after dinner and said that with the permission of the ladies he would retire to his office.

He rose shortly after dinner and said he would retire to his office.


"Yes, Mr. C.," he returned, "the interests of clients are never to be neglected, sir."


They are paramount in the thoughts of a professional man like myself, who wishes to preserve a good name among his fellow-practitioners and society at large.


My denying myself the pleasure of the present agreeable conversation may not be wholly irrespective of your own interests, Mr. C."


Richard expressed himself quite sure of that and lighted Mr. Vholes out.


On his return he told us, more than once, that Vholes was a good fellow, a safe fellow, a man who did what he pretended to do, a very good fellow indeed!

On his return he told us that Vholes was a good fellow, a very good fellow indeed!


He was so defiant about it that it struck me he had begun to doubt Mr. Vholes.


Then he threw himself on the sofa, tired out; and Ada and I put things to rights, for they had no other servant than the woman who attended to the chambers.

Then he threw himself on the sofa, tired out; and Ada and I tidied up.


My dear girl had a cottage piano there and quietly sat down to sing some of Richard's favourites, the lamp being first removed into the next room, as he complained of its hurting his eyes.

My dear girl had a cottage piano there and quietly sat down to sing some of Richard's favourites, the lamp being first removed, as he complained of its hurting his eyes.


I sat between them, at my dear girl's side, and felt very melancholy listening to her sweet voice.


I think Richard did too; I think he darkened the room for that reason.


She had been singing some time, rising between whiles to bend over him and speak to him, when Mr. Woodcourt came in.

She had been singing some time when Mr. Woodcourt came in.


Then he sat down by Richard and half playfully, half earnestly, quite naturally and easily, found out how he felt and where he had been all day.

He sat down by Richard and half playfully, half earnestly, quite naturally and easily, found out how he felt and where he had been all day.


Presently he proposed to accompany him in a short walk on one of the bridges, as it was a moonlight airy night; and Richard readily consenting, they went out together.

Presently he proposed to accompany him in a short walk, as it was a moonlight airy night; and they went out together.


They left my dear girl still sitting at the piano and me still sitting beside her.

They left my dear girl sitting at the piano with me beside her.


When they were gone out, I drew my arm round her waist.


She put her left hand in mine (I was sitting on that side), but kept her right upon the keys, going over and over them without striking any note.

She put her left hand in mine, but kept her right upon the keys, without striking any note.


"Esther, my dearest," she said, breaking silence, "Richard is never so well and I am never so easy about him as when he is with Allan Woodcourt.

"Esther, my dearest," she said, "Richard is never so well as when he is with Allan Woodcourt.


I pointed out to my darling how this could scarcely be, because Mr. Woodcourt had come to her cousin John's house and had known us all there, and because he had always liked Richard, and Richard had always liked him, and--and so forth.

I pointed out how this could scarcely be, because Mr. Woodcourt had always liked Richard, and Richard had always liked him.


"All true," said Ada, "but that he is such a devoted friend to us we owe to you."

"True," said Ada, "but that he is such a devoted friend to us we owe to you."


I thought it best to let my dear girl have her way and to say no more about it.

I thought it best to say no more about it.


I said it lightly, because I felt her trembling.


"Esther, my dearest, I want to be a good wife, a very, very good wife indeed.

"Esther, my dearest, I want to be a good wife.


I said no more, for I noticed the hand that was fluttering over the keys, and I knew that it was not I who ought to speak, that it was she who had something to say to me.

I said no more, for I noticed the hand that was fluttering over the keys, and I knew she had something more to say to me.


"When I married Richard I was not insensible to what was before him.

"When I married Richard I was aware of what was before him.


I had been perfectly happy for a long time with you, and I had never known any trouble or anxiety, so loved and cared for, but I understood the danger he was in, dear Esther."

I had never known any trouble or anxiety, but I understood the danger he was in, dear Esther."


"When we were married I had some little hope that I might be able to convince him of his mistake, that he might come to regard it in a new way as my husband and not pursue it all the more desperately for my sake--as he does.

"When we were married I hoped that I might be able to convince him of his mistake, that he might not pursue it all the more desperately for my sake.


But if I had not had that hope, I would have married him just the same, Esther.

But if I had not had that hope, I would have married him just the same!


In the momentary firmness of the hand that was never still--a firmness inspired by the utterance of these last words, and dying away with them--I saw the confirmation of her earnest tones.


"You are not to think, my dearest Esther, that I fail to see what you see and fear what you fear.

My dearest Esther, I see what you see and fear what you fear.


No one can understand him better than I do.


The greatest wisdom that ever lived in the world could scarcely know Richard better than my love does."


She spoke so modestly and softly and her trembling hand expressed such agitation as it moved to and fro upon the silent notes!


But when I married Richard I was quite determined, Esther, if heaven would help me, never to show him that I grieved for what he did and so to make him more unhappy.

But when I married Richard I was quite determined, Esther, if heaven would help me, never to show him that I grieved for what he did and so make him more unhappy.


I want him, when he comes home, to find no trouble in my face.

I want him to find no trouble in my face.


I want him, when he looks at me, to see what he loved in me.


I married him to do this, and this supports me."


I waited for what was yet to come, and I now thought I began to know what it was.


"And something else supports me, Esther."


Stopped speaking only; her hand was still in motion.


"I look forward a little while, and I don't know what great aid may come to me.

"In a little while, I don't know what great aid may come to me.


When Richard turns his eyes upon me then, there may be something lying on my breast more eloquent than I have been, with greater power than mine to show him his true course and win him back."

When Richard turns his eyes upon me then, there may be something lying on my breast with greater power than mine to show him his true course and win him back."


She clasped me in her arms, and I clasped her in mine.


"If that little creature should fail too, Esther, I still look forward.


I look forward a long while, through years and years, and think that then, when I am growing old, or when I am dead perhaps, a beautiful woman, his daughter, happily married, may be proud of him and a blessing to him.

"I look forward through years and years, Esther, and think that a beautiful daughter may be a blessing to him.


Or that a generous brave man, as handsome as he used to be, as hopeful, and far more happy, may walk in the sunshine with him, honouring his grey head and saying to himself, 'I thank God this is my father!

Or that a generous brave man, as handsome as he used to be, as hopeful, and far more happy, may walk in the sunshine with him, honouring his grey head!"


Ruined by a fatal inheritance, and restored through me!'"


Oh, my sweet girl, what a heart was that which beat so fast against me!


"These hopes uphold me, my dear Esther, and I know they will. Though sometimes even they depart from me before a dread that arises when I look at Richard."

"These hopes uphold me, my dear Esther - though sometimes even they depart before a dread that arises when I look at Richard."


I tried to cheer my darling, and asked her what it was.


Sobbing and weeping, she replied, "That he may not live to see his child."


From the verdant undulations and the spreading oaks of the Dedlock property, Mr. Tulkinghorn transfers himself to the stale heat and dust of London.

From the spreading oaks of the Dedlock property, Mr. Tulkinghorn transfers himself to the stale heat and dust of London.


His manner of coming and going between the two places is one of his impenetrabilities.

His manner of coming and going between the two places is a mystery.


He walks into Chesney Wold as if it were next door to his chambers and returns to his chambers as if he had never been out of Lincoln's Inn Fields.


He neither changes his dress before the journey nor talks of it afterwards.


He melted out of his turret-room this morning, just as now, in the late twilight, he melts into his own square.


Like a dingy London bird among the birds at roost in these pleasant fields, where the sheep are all made into parchment, the goats into wigs, and the pasture into chaff, the lawyer, smoke-dried and faded, dwelling among mankind but not consorting with them, aged without experience of genial youth, and so long used to make his cramped nest in holes and corners of human nature that he has forgotten its broader and better range, comes sauntering home.

Like a dingy London bird, the lawyer, smoke-dried and faded, dwelling among mankind but not consorting with them, aged without experience of genial youth, comes sauntering home.


In the oven made by the hot pavements and hot buildings, he has baked himself dryer than usual; and he has in his thirsty mind his mellowed port-wine half a century old.

In the oven made by the hot pavements and hot buildings, he is dryer than usual; and he has in his thirsty mind his mellowed port-wine half a century old.


The lamplighter is skipping up and down his ladder on Mr. Tulkinghorn's side of the Fields when that high-priest of noble mysteries arrives at his own dull court-yard.

The lamplighter is skipping up and down his ladder on Mr. Tulkinghorn's side of the Fields when the lawyer ascends his door-steps.


He ascends the door-steps and is gliding into the dusky hall when he encounters, on the top step, a bowing and propitiatory little man.

Gliding into the dusky hall he encounters a bowing and propitiatory little man.


I was just giving you up, sir, and going home."


"Well, sir," says Mr. Snagsby, holding his hat at the side of his head in his deference towards his best customer, "I was wishful to say a word to you, sir."


The lawyer turns, leans his arms on the iron railing at the top of the steps, and looks at the lamplighter lighting the court-yard.


"It is relating," says Mr. Snagsby in a mysterious low voice, "it is relating--not to put too fine a point upon it--to the foreigner, sir!"

"It is relating," says Mr. Snagsby in a mysterious low voice, "to the foreigner, sir!"


Mr. Tulkinghorn eyes him with some surprise.


I am not acquainted with that language myself, but I should judge from her manners and appearance that she was French; anyways, certainly foreign.


Her that was upstairs, sir, when Mr. Bucket and me had the honour of waiting upon you with the sweeping-boy that night."

Her that was upstairs, sir, when Mr. Bucket and me had the honour of meeting you with the sweeping-boy that night."


Mr. Snagsby coughs his cough of submission behind his hat.


"I am not acquainted myself with the names of foreigners in general, but I have no doubt it WOULD be that."


Mr. Snagsby appears to have set out in this reply with some desperate design of repeating the name, but on reflection coughs again to excuse himself.


"And what can you have to say, Snagsby," demands Mr. Tulkinghorn, "about her?"


"Well, sir," returns the stationer, shading his communication with his hat, "it falls a little hard upon me.

"Well, sir," returns the stationer, "it falls a little hard upon me.


My domestic happiness is very great--at least, it's as great as can be expected, I'm sure--but my little woman is rather given to jealousy.

My domestic happiness is very great, but my little woman is rather given to jealousy.


Not to put too fine a point upon it, she is very much given to jealousy.


And you see, a foreign female of that genteel appearance coming into the shop, and hovering--I should be the last to make use of a strong expression if I could avoid it, but hovering, sir--in the court--you know it is--now ain't it?

And you see, a foreign female of that genteel appearance coming into the shop, and hovering, sir - in the court - you know it is - now ain't it?


Mr. Snagsby, having said this in a very plaintive manner, throws in a cough of general application to fill up all the blanks.

Mr. Snagsby says this in a very plaintive manner.


"Just so, sir," returns Mr. Snagsby; "I was sure you would feel it yourself and would excuse the reasonableness of MY feelings when coupled with the known excitableness of my little woman.


You see, the foreign female--which you mentioned her name just now, with quite a native sound I am sure--caught up the word Snagsby that night, being uncommon quick, and made inquiry, and got the direction and come at dinner-time.

"You see, sir, the foreign female caught up the word Snagsby that night, and made inquiry, and got the address and come at dinner-time.


Now Guster, our young woman, is timid and has fits, and she, taking fright at the foreigner's looks--which are fierce--and at a grinding manner that she has of speaking--which is calculated to alarm a weak mind--gave way to it, instead of bearing up against it, and tumbled down the kitchen stairs out of one into another, such fits as I do sometimes think are never gone into, or come out of, in any house but ours.

Now Guster, our young woman, is timid and has fits, and she, taking fright at the foreigner's looks - which are fierce - tumbled down the kitchen stairs.


Consequently there was by good fortune ample occupation for my little woman, and only me to answer the shop.

Consequently there was luckily ample occupation for my little woman, and only me to answer the shop.


When she DID say that Mr. Tulkinghorn, being always denied to her by his employer (which I had no doubt at the time was a foreign mode of viewing a clerk), she would do herself the pleasure of continually calling at my place until she was let in here.

When the foreigner said that because she was always refused admission to see Mr. Tulkinghorn, she would call continually until she was let in here.


Since then she has been, as I began by saying, hovering, hovering, sir"--Mr. Snagsby repeats the word with pathetic emphasis--"in the court.

Since then she has been, as I said, hovering, sir" - Mr. Snagsby repeats the word with pathetic emphasis - "in the court.


The effects of which movement it is impossible to calculate.


I shouldn't wonder if it might have already given rise to the painfullest mistakes even in the neighbours' minds, not mentioning (if such a thing was possible) my little woman.

I shouldn't wonder if it might have already given rise to the painfullest mistakes in the neighbours' minds, not to mention my little woman, sir!"


Whereas, goodness knows," says Mr. Snagsby, shaking his head, "I never had an idea of a foreign female, except as being formerly connected with a bunch of brooms and a baby, or at the present time with a tambourine and earrings.


Mr. Tulkinghorn had listened gravely to this complaint and inquires when the stationer has finished, "And that's all, is it, Snagsby?"

Mr. Tulkinghorn has listened gravely. "And that's all, is it, Snagsby?"


"Why yes, sir, that's all," says Mr. Snagsby, ending with a cough that plainly adds, "and it's enough too--for me."


"I don't know what Mademoiselle Hortense may want or mean, unless she is mad," says the lawyer.


"Even if she was, you know, sir," Mr. Snagsby pleads, "it wouldn't be a consolation to have some weapon or another in the form of a foreign dagger planted in the family."


I am sorry you have been inconvenienced.


Mr. Snagsby, with much bowing and short apologetic coughing, takes his leave, lightened in heart.

Mr. Snagsby, with much bowing, takes his leave, lightened in heart.


Mr. Tulkinghorn goes upstairs, saying to himself, "These women were created to give trouble the whole earth over.


The mistress not being enough to deal with, here's the maid now!


But I will be short with THIS jade at least!"

But I will be short with this jade at least!"


So saying, he unlocks his door, gropes his way into his murky rooms, lights his candles, and looks about him.

So saying, Mr. Tulkinghorn unlocks his door, gropes his way into his murky rooms and lights his candles.


It is too dark to see much of the Allegory overhead there, but that importunate Roman, who is for ever toppling out of the clouds and pointing, is at his old work pretty distinctly.


Not honouring him with much attention, Mr. Tulkinghorn takes a small key from his pocket, unlocks a drawer in which there is another key, which unlocks a chest in which there is another, and so comes to the cellar-key, with which he prepares to descend to the regions of old wine.

Then he takes up his cellar-key, with which he prepares to descend to the regions of old wine.


He is going towards the door with a candle in his hand when a knock comes.


He stands the candle on the chimney-piece in the clerk's hall and taps his dry cheek with the key as he addresses these words of welcome to Mademoiselle Hortense.

He addresses these words to Mademoiselle Hortense.


That feline personage, with her lips tightly shut and her eyes looking out at him sideways, softly closes the door before replying.

That feline personage softly closes the door before replying.


"I have had great deal of trouble to find you, sir."


It has always been said to me, he is not at home, he is engage, he is this and that, he is not for you."


At times there is a suddenness in the manner of Mademoiselle Hortense so like a bodily spring upon the subject of it that such subject involuntarily starts and fails back. It is Mr. Tulkinghorn's case at present, though Mademoiselle Hortense, with her eyes almost shut up (but still looking out sideways), is only smiling contemptuously and shaking her head.

Mr. Tulkinghorn involuntarily starts and falls back, though Mademoiselle Hortense, with her eyes almost shut, is only smiling contemptuously and shaking her head.


"Now, mistress," says the lawyer, tapping the key hastily upon the chimney-piece. "If you have anything to say, say it, say it."

"Now, mistress," says the lawyer, "If you have anything to say, say it."


returns the lawyer, rubbing his nose with the key.


You have attrapped me--catched me--to give you information; you have asked me to show you the dress of mine my Lady must have wore that night, you have prayed me to come in it here to meet that boy.

You have attrapped me - catched me - to give you information; you have asked me to show you the dress of mine my Lady must have wore that night, you have prayed me to come in it here to meet that boy.


Mademoiselle Hortense makes another spring.


Mr. Tulkinghorn seems to meditate as he looks distrustfully at her, then he replies, "Well, wench, well.

Mr. Tulkinghorn looks distrustfully at her.


I have not change them, I re-fuse them, I des-pise them, I throw them from me!"

I refuse them, I despise them, I throw them from me!"


Which she literally does, taking them out of her bosom as she speaks and flinging them with such violence on the floor that they jerk up again into the light before they roll away into corners and slowly settle down there after spinning vehemently.

Which she does, flinging them with such violence on the floor that they spin vehemently before rolling away into corners.


says Mademoiselle Hortense, darkening her large eyes again.


Mr. Tulkinghorn rubs his head with the key while she entertains herself with a sarcastic laugh.


"You must be rich, my fair friend," he composedly observes, "to throw money about in that way!"


"Because you have known it perfectly before you prayed me to give you that information.


Because you have known perfectly that I was en-r-r-r-raged!"


It appears impossible for mademoiselle to roll the letter "r" sufficiently in this word, notwithstanding that she assists her energetic delivery by clenching both her hands and setting all her teeth.


says Mr. Tulkinghorn, examining the wards of the key.


You have made sure of me because you knew that.


Mademoiselle Hortense folds her arms and throws this last remark at him over one of her shoulders.


"Having said this, have you anything else to say, mademoiselle?"

"Have you anything else to say, mademoiselle?"


If you cannot, or do not choose to do that, employ me to pursue her, to chase her, to disgrace and to dishonour her.

If you cannot, then employ me to pursue her, to disgrace and to dishonour her.


I will help you well, and with a good will.


"You appear to know a good deal," Mr. Tulkinghorn retorts.


Is it that I am so weak as to believe, like a child, that I come here in that dress to rec-eive that boy only to decide a little bet, a wager?

"I am not so weak as to believe, like a child, that I come here in that dress only to decide a little bet, a wager!"


In this reply, down to the word "wager" inclusive, mademoiselle has been ironically polite and tender, then as suddenly dashed into the bitterest and most defiant scorn, with her black eyes in one and the same moment very nearly shut and staringly wide open.

Mademoiselle says this with bitterest and most defiant scorn.


"Now, let us see," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, tapping his chin with the key and looking imperturbably at her, "how this matter stands."

"Now, let us see," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, tapping his chin with the cellar-key, "how this matter stands.


Let us see," mademoiselle assents, with many angry and tight nods of her head.


"You come here to make a remarkably modest demand, which you have just stated, and it not being conceded, you will come again."

You come here to make a remarkably modest demand, and if it is not conceded, you will come again."


"And again," says mademoiselle with more tight and angry nods.


"And not only here, but you will go to Mr. Snagsby's too, perhaps?"


That visit not succeeding either, you will go again perhaps?"


"And again," repeats mademoiselle, cataleptic with determination.


Now, Mademoiselle Hortense, let me recommend you to take the candle and pick up that money of yours.

Now, Mademoiselle Hortense, let me recommend you to pick up that money of yours."


I think you will find it behind the clerk's partition in the corner yonder."


She merely throws a laugh over her shoulder and stands her ground with folded arms.

She merely laughs and stands her ground with folded arms.


"So much the poorer you; so much the richer I!


Look, mistress, this is the key of my wine-cellar.


It is a large key, but the keys of prisons are larger. In this city there are houses of correction (where the treadmills are, for women), the gates of which are very strong and heavy, and no doubt the keys too.

It is a large key, but the keys of prisons are larger, and their gates are very strong and heavy.


I am afraid a lady of your spirit and activity would find it an inconvenience to have one of those keys turned upon her for any length of time.

I am afraid you would find it an inconvenience to have one of those keys turned upon you for any length of time.


"I think," mademoiselle replies without any action and in a clear, obliging voice, "that you are a miserable wretch."

"I think," mademoiselle replies in a clear voice, "that you are a miserable wretch."


"Probably," returns Mr. Tulkinghorn, quietly blowing his nose. "But I don't ask what you think of myself; I ask what you think of the prison."

"Probably," returns Mr. Tulkinghorn, "But I ask what you think of prison."


"Why, it matters this much, mistress," says the lawyer, deliberately putting away his handkerchief and adjusting his frill; "the law is so despotic here that it interferes to prevent any of our good English citizens from being troubled, even by a lady's visits against his desire.

"Why, mistress, the law in England interferes to prevent any of our good English citizens from being troubled, even by a lady's visits.


And on his complaining that he is so troubled, it takes hold of the troublesome lady and shuts her up in prison under hard discipline.

And on his complaining that he is so troubled, it takes hold of the troublesome lady and shuts her up in prison.


returns mademoiselle in the same pleasant voice.


But--my faith!--still what does it matter to me?"


"My fair friend," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, "make another visit here, or at Mr. Snagsby's, and you shall learn."

"My fair friend," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, "make another visit here, and you shall learn.


"In that case you will send me to the prison, perhaps?"


It would be contradictory for one in mademoiselle's state of agreeable jocularity to foam at the mouth, otherwise a tigerish expansion thereabouts might look as if a very little more would make her do it.


"In a word, mistress," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, "I am sorry to be unpolite, but if you ever present yourself uninvited here--or there--again, I will give you over to the police.

If you ever present yourself uninvited here again, I will hand you over to the police.


Their gallantry is great, but they carry troublesome people through the streets in an ignominious manner, strapped down on a board, my good wench."

They carry troublesome people through the streets strapped down on a board, my good wench."


"I will prove you," whispers mademoiselle, stretching out her hand, "I will try if you dare to do it!"

"I will test you," whispers mademoiselle. "I will see if you dare to do it!"


"And if," pursues the lawyer without minding her, "I place you in that good condition of being locked up in jail, it will be some time before you find yourself at liberty again."


"I will prove you," repeats mademoiselle in her former whisper.


"And now," proceeds the lawyer, still without minding her, "you had better go.

"And now," proceeds the lawyer, without minding her, "you had better go.


Think twice before you come here again."


"Think you," she answers, "twice two hundred times!"


"You were dismissed by your lady, you know," Mr. Tulkinghorn observes, following her out upon the staircase, "as the most implacable and unmanageable of women.

You were dismissed by your lady, you know, as the most unmanageable of women.


Now turn over a new leaf and take warning by what I say to you.


For what I say, I mean; and what I threaten, I will do, mistress."

For what I say, I mean; and what I threaten, I will do."


She goes down without answering or looking behind her.

She goes out and down the stairs without answering.


When she is gone, he goes down too, and returning with his cobweb-covered bottle, devotes himself to a leisurely enjoyment of its contents, now and then, as he throws his head back in his chair, catching sight of the pertinacious Roman pointing from the ceiling.

When she is gone, he goes down too, and returning with his cobweb-covered bottle, sits back in his chair, and devotes himself to a leisurely enjoyment of its contents.


As soon as Richard and I had held the conversation of which I have given an account, Richard communicated the state of his mind to Mr. Jarndyce.

As soon as Richard and I had talked together, Richard communicated the state of his mind to Mr. Jarndyce.


I doubt if my guardian were altogether taken by surprise when he received the representation, though it caused him much uneasiness and disappointment.

I doubt if my guardian were taken by surprise, though the news made him uneasy and disappointed.


He and Richard were often closeted together, late at night and early in the morning, and passed whole days in London, and had innumerable appointments with Mr. Kenge, and laboured through a quantity of disagreeable business.

He and Richard were often closeted together, and had innumerable appointments with Mr. Kenge, and laboured through a quantity of disagreeable business.


While they were thus employed, my guardian, though he underwent considerable inconvenience from the state of the wind and rubbed his head so constantly that not a single hair upon it ever rested in its right place, was as genial with Ada and me as at any other time, but maintained a steady reserve on these matters.

While they were thus employed, my guardian, though he suffered from the state of the wind and rubbed his head constantly, was as genial with Ada and me as at any other time, but did not speak.


And as our utmost endeavours could only elicit from Richard himself sweeping assurances that everything was going on capitally and that it really was all right at last, our anxiety was not much relieved by him.

And since Richard would only say that everything was going on capitally and that it really was all right at last, our anxiety was not much relieved by him.


We learnt, however, as the time went on, that a new application was made to the Lord Chancellor on Richard's behalf as an infant and a ward, and I don't know what, and that there was a quantity of talking, and that the Lord Chancellor described him in open court as a vexatious and capricious infant, and that the matter was adjourned and readjourned, and referred, and reported on, and petitioned about until Richard began to doubt (as he told us) whether, if he entered the army at all, it would not be as a veteran of seventy or eighty years of age.

We learnt, however, as the time went on, that a new application was made to the Lord Chancellor on Richard's behalf as a ward, and that there was a quantity of talking, and that the Lord Chancellor described him in open court as a vexatious and capricious infant. The matter was adjourned and referred until Richard began to doubt whether he would enter the army before the age of seventy.


At last an appointment was made for him to see the Lord Chancellor again in his private room, and there the Lord Chancellor very seriously reproved him for trifling with time and not knowing his mind--"a pretty good joke, I think," said Richard, "from that quarter!"--and at last it was settled that his application should be granted.

At last an appointment was made for him to see the Lord Chancellor again in his private room, and there the Lord Chancellor very seriously reproved him for trifling with time and not knowing his mind; but it was settled that his application should be granted.


His name was entered at the Horse Guards as an applicant for an ensign's commission; the purchase-money was deposited at an agent's; and Richard, in his usual characteristic way, plunged into a violent course of military study and got up at five o'clock every morning to practise the broadsword exercise.

His name was entered at the Horse Guards as an applicant for an ensign's commission; the purchase-money was paid; and Richard, in his characteristic way, plunged into a violent course of military study and got up at five o'clock every morning to practise the broadsword exercise.


Thus, vacation succeeded term, and term succeeded vacation.


We sometimes heard of Jarndyce and Jarndyce as being in the paper or out of the paper, or as being to be mentioned, or as being to be spoken to; and it came on, and it went off.

We sometimes heard of Jarndyce and Jarndyce; the case came on, and it went off.


Richard, who was now in a professor's house in London, was able to be with us less frequently than before; my guardian still maintained the same reserve; and so time passed until the commission was obtained and Richard received directions with it to join a regiment in Ireland.

Richard, who was now in an instructor's house in London, was able to be with us less frequently than before; and so time passed until the commission was obtained and Richard received directions to join a regiment in Ireland.


He arrived post-haste with the intelligence one evening, and had a long conference with my guardian.

He arrived with the news one evening, and had a long conference with my guardian.


Upwards of an hour elapsed before my guardian put his head into the room where Ada and I were sitting and said, "Come in, my dears!"

After an hour my guardian put his head into the room where Ada and I were sitting and said, "Come in, my dears!"


We went in and found Richard, whom we had last seen in high spirits, leaning on the chimney-piece looking mortified and angry.


"Rick and I, Ada," said Mr. Jarndyce, "are not quite of one mind.

"Rick and I," said Mr. Jarndyce, "are not quite of one mind.


Come, come, Rick, put a brighter face upon it!"


"You are very hard with me, sir," said Richard.


"The harder because you have been so considerate to me in all other respects and have done me kindnesses that I can never acknowledge.

"The harder, because you have been so considerate to me in all other respects.


I never could have been set right without you, sir."


I want to set you more right with yourself."


"I hope you will excuse my saying, sir," returned Richard in a fiery way, but yet respectfully, "that I think I am the best judge about myself."

"I hope you will excuse my saying, sir," returned Richard, "that I think I am the best judge about myself."


"I hope you will excuse my saying, my dear Rick," observed Mr. Jarndyce with the sweetest cheerfulness and good humour, "that it's quite natural in you to think so, but I don't think so.

"I hope you will excuse my saying, my dear Rick," observed Mr. Jarndyce with good humour, "that it's quite natural in you to think so, but I don't think so.


I must do my duty, Rick, or you could never care for me in cool blood; and I hope you will always care for me, cool and hot."


Ada had turned so pale that he made her sit down in his reading-chair and sat beside her.

Ada had turned so pale that he made her sit down beside him.


"It's nothing, my dear," he said, "it's nothing. Rick and I have only had a friendly difference, which we must state to you, for you are the theme.

"It's nothing, my dear," he said, "Rick and I have only had a friendly difference, which we must state to you, for you are the theme.


"I am not indeed, cousin John," replied Ada with a smile, "if it is to come from you."

"I am not, cousin John," replied Ada with a smile, "if it is to come from you."


Do you give me a minute's calm attention, without looking at Rick.


My dear girl," putting his hand on hers as it lay on the side of the easy-chair, "you recollect the talk we had, we four when the little woman told me of a little love affair?"

Putting his hand on hers, he said, "Do you recollect the talk we had, we four, when the little woman told me of a little love affair?"


"It is not likely that either Richard or I can ever forget your kindness that day, cousin John."


"So much the easier what I have to say, and so much the easier for us to agree," returned my guardian, his face irradiated by the gentleness and honour of his heart.

"So much the easier for us to agree," returned my guardian gently.


"Ada, my bird, you should know that Rick has now chosen his profession for the last time.


All that he has of certainty will be expended when he is fully equipped.


He has exhausted his resources and is bound henceforward to the tree he has planted."

He has exhausted his money and is bound henceforward to the tree he has planted."


"Quite true that I have exhausted my present resources, and I am quite content to know it. But what I have of certainty, sir," said Richard, "is not all I have."

"Quite true that I have exhausted my present resources, sir," said Richard, "but that is not all I have."


cried my guardian with a sudden terror in his manner, and in an altered voice, and putting up his hands as if he would have stopped his ears.

cried my guardian with a sudden terror in his manner.


"For the love of God, don't found a hope or expectation on the family curse!

"For the love of God, don't found a hope on the family curse!


Whatever you do on this side the grave, never give one lingering glance towards the horrible phantom that has haunted us so many years.

Never give one glance towards the horrible phantom that has haunted us so many years.


Better to borrow, better to beg, better to die!"


We were all startled by the fervour of this warning.


Richard bit his lip and held his breath, and glanced at me as if he felt, and knew that I felt too, how much he needed it.

Richard bit his lip and held his breath.


"Ada, my dear," said Mr. Jarndyce, recovering his cheerfulness, "these are strong words of advice, but I live in Bleak House and have seen a sight here. Enough of that.

"Ada, my dear," said Mr. Jarndyce, recovering his cheerfulness, "these are strong words of advice, but enough of that.


All Richard had to start him in the race of life is ventured.


I recommend to him and you, for his sake and your own, that he should depart from us with the understanding that there is no sort of contract between you.

I recommend, for his sake and your own, that he should depart from us with the understanding that there is no contract between you.


You were to confide freely in me, and I will confide freely in you.


I ask you wholly to relinquish, for the present, any tie but your relationship."

I ask you wholly to relinquish, for the present, any tie but your relationship as cousins."


"Better to say at once, sir," returned Richard, "that you renounce all confidence in me and that you advise Ada to do the same."


"Better to say nothing of the sort, Rick, because I don't mean it."


"You think I have begun ill, sir," retorted Richard.


"How I hoped you would begin, and how go on, I told you when we spoke of these things last," said Mr. Jarndyce in a cordial and encouraging manner.


"You have not made that beginning yet, but there is a time for all things, and yours is not gone by; rather, it is just now fully come.

"You have not made that beginning yet, but there is a time for all things," said Mr. Jarndyce in an encouraging manner, "and yours is just now fully come.


You two (very young, my dears) are cousins. As yet, you are nothing more.

You two (very young, my dears) are cousins; as yet, nothing more.


What more may come must come of being worked out, Rick, and no sooner."

What more may come must come of being worked out, Rick."


"You are very hard with me, sir," said Richard.


"Harder than I could have supposed you would be."


"My dear boy," said Mr. Jarndyce, "I am harder with myself when I do anything that gives you pain.


Ada, it is better for him that he should be free and that there should be no youthful engagement between you.


Rick, it is better for her, much better; you owe it to her.

Rick, it is better for her; you owe it to her.


Each of you will do what is best for the other, if not what is best for yourselves."


"It was not when we opened our hearts to you.


I don't blame you, Rick, but I have had experience since."


Yes, of both of you," said Mr. Jarndyce kindly.


"The time is not come for your standing pledged to one another.

"The time is not come for your being pledged to one another.


It is not right, and I must not recognize it.


Come, come, my young cousins, begin afresh!


Bygones shall be bygones, and a new page turned for you to write your lives in."


Richard gave an anxious glance at Ada but said nothing.


"I have avoided saying one word to either of you or to Esther," said Mr. Jarndyce, "until now, in order that we might be open as the day, and all on equal terms. I now affectionately advise, I now most earnestly entreat, you two to part as you came here.

"I now affectionately advise you two to part as you came here," said Mr. Jarndyce.


"Leave all else to time, truth, and steadfastness.


If you do otherwise, you will do wrong, and you will have made me do wrong in ever bringing you together."


"Cousin Richard," said Ada then, raising her blue eyes tenderly to his face, "after what our cousin John has said, I think no choice is left us.

"Cousin Richard," said Ada then, raising her blue eyes tenderly to his face, "I think no choice is left us.


Your mind may be quite at ease about me, for you will leave me here under his care and will be sure that I can have nothing to wish for--quite sure if I guide myself by his advice.

Your mind may be quite at ease about me, for you will leave me here under his care and will be sure that I can have nothing to wish for.


I--I don't doubt, cousin Richard," said Ada, a little confused, "that you are very fond of me, and I--I don't think you will fall in love with anybody else.

I - I don't doubt, cousin Richard," said she, a little confused, "that you are very fond of me, and I - I don't think you will fall in love with anybody else.


But I should like you to consider well about it too, as I should like you to be in all things very happy.

But I should like you to consider well about it, as I should like you to be happy.


I am not at all changeable; but I am not unreasonable, and should never blame you.

I am not at all changeable; but I should never blame you.


Even cousins may be sorry to part; and in truth I am very, very sorry, Richard, though I know it's for your welfare.

Even cousins may be sorry to part; and in truth I am very sorry, Richard, though I know it's for your welfare.


I shall always think of you affectionately, and often talk of you with Esther, and--and perhaps you will sometimes think a little of me, cousin Richard.

I shall always think of you affectionately, and often talk of you with Esther, and - and perhaps you will sometimes think of me, cousin Richard.


So now," said Ada, going up to him and giving him her trembling hand, "we are only cousins again, Richard--for the time perhaps--and I pray for a blessing on my dear cousin, wherever he goes!"

So now," said Ada, giving him her trembling hand, "we are only cousins again, Richard - for the time perhaps - and I pray for a blessing on my dear cousin, wherever he goes!"


It was strange to me that Richard should not be able to forgive my guardian for entertaining the very same opinion of him which he himself had expressed of himself in much stronger terms to me.

It was strange to me that Richard should not be able to forgive my guardian for holding the very same opinion of him which he himself had expressed.


I observed with great regret that from this hour he never was as free and open with Mr. Jarndyce as he had been before.


He had every reason given him to be so, but he was not; and solely on his side, an estrangement began to arise between them.

Solely on his side, an estrangement began to arise between them.


In the business of preparation and equipment he soon lost himself, and even his grief at parting from Ada, who remained in Hertfordshire while he, Mr. Jarndyce, and I went up to London for a week.

He, Mr. Jarndyce, and I went to London for a week. In the business of preparation he soon lost himself, and lost even his grief at parting from Ada, who remained in Hertfordshire.


He remembered her by fits and starts, even with bursts of tears, and at such times would confide to me the heaviest self-reproaches.

He remembered her by fits and starts, with bursts of tears and self-reproaches.


But in a few minutes he would recklessly conjure up some undefinable means by which they were both to be made rich and happy for ever, and would become as gay as possible.


It was a busy time, and I trotted about with him all day long, buying a variety of things of which he stood in need.

I trotted about with him all day long, buying things which he needed.


Of the things he would have bought if he had been left to his own ways I say nothing.

Of the things he would have bought if he had been left to himself, I say nothing.


He was perfectly confidential with me, and often talked so sensibly and feelingly about his faults and his vigorous resolutions, and dwelt so much upon the encouragement he derived from these conversations that I could never have been tired if I had tried.

He often talked sensibly and feelingly to me about his faults and resolutions, and seemed encouraged by our conversations.


There used, in that week, to come backward and forward to our lodging to fence with Richard a person who had formerly been a cavalry soldier; he was a fine bluff-looking man, of a frank free bearing, with whom Richard had practised for some months.

In that week, there used to come to fence with Richard a former cavalry soldier; he was a fine bluff-looking man, of a frank free bearing, with whom Richard had practised for some months.


I heard so much about him, not only from Richard, but from my guardian too, that I was purposely in the room with my work one morning after breakfast when he came.

I heard so much about him, that I was purposely in the room with my work one morning when he came.


"Good morning, Mr. George," said my guardian, who happened to be alone with me.

"Good morning, Mr. George," said my guardian.


Meanwhile, Miss Summerson is very happy to see you, I know.


He sat down, a little disconcerted by my presence, I thought, and without looking at me, drew his heavy sunburnt hand across and across his upper lip.

He sat down, a little disconcerted by my presence, I thought.


"You are as punctual as the sun," said Mr. Jarndyce.


"Force of habit. A mere habit in me, sir.


"Yet you have a large establishment, too, I am told?"

"Yet you have a large establishment, I am told?"


I keep a shooting gallery, but not much of a one."

"I keep a shooting gallery, sir, but not much of a one."


"And what kind of a shot and what kind of a swordsman do you make of Mr. Carstone?"


"Pretty good, sir," he replied, folding his arms upon his broad chest and looking very large.


"If Mr. Carstone was to give his full mind to it, he would come out very good."


"He did at first, sir, but not afterwards.


Perhaps he has something else upon it--some young lady, perhaps."

Perhaps he has something else upon it - some young lady, perhaps."


His bright dark eyes glanced at me for the first time.


"He has not me upon his mind, I assure you, Mr. George," said I, laughing, "though you seem to suspect me."

"He has not me upon his mind, I assure you, Mr. George," said I, laughing.


He reddened a little through his brown and made me a trooper's bow.

He reddened a little and made me a trooper's bow.


If he had not looked at me before, he looked at me now in three or four quick successive glances.

He looked at me now in three or four quick successive glances.


"I beg your pardon, sir," he said to my guardian with a manly kind of diffidence, "but you did me the honour to mention the young lady's name--"

"I beg your pardon, sir," he said to my guardian with a manly diffidence, "but you did me the honour to mention the young lady's name-"


"Miss Summerson," he repeated, and looked at me again.


"I think not," I returned, raising my head from my work to look at him; and there was something so genuine in his speech and manner that I was glad of the opportunity.

"I think not," I returned, raising my head from my work to look at him; there was something so genuine in his speech and manner that I was glad of the opportunity.


he returned, meeting my look with the fullness of his dark eyes and broad forehead.


His once more reddening through his brown and being disconcerted by his efforts to remember the association brought my guardian to his relief.


Mostly they're but a small lot to live by."


"And what classes of chance people come to practise at your gallery?"

"And what type of people come to practise at your gallery?"


I have had Frenchwomen come, before now, and show themselves dabs at pistol-shooting.


Mad people out of number, of course, but THEY go everywhere where the doors stand open."

Mad people out of number, of course, but they go everywhere where the doors stand open."


"People don't come with grudges and schemes of finishing their practice with live targets, I hope?"

"People don't come with grudges and schemes of finding live targets, I hope?"


"Not much of that, sir, though that HAS happened.

"Not much, sir, though that has happened.


Mostly they come for skill--or idleness.

Mostly they come for skill - or idleness.


Six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other.


I beg your pardon," said Mr. George, sitting stiffly upright and squaring an elbow on each knee, "but I believe you're a Chancery suitor, if I have heard correct?"

I beg your pardon," said Mr. George, sitting stiffly upright, "but I believe you're a Chancery suitor, if I have heard correct?"


"I have had one of YOUR compatriots in my time, sir."

"I have had one of your compatriots in my time, sir."


"Why, the man was so badgered and worried and tortured by being knocked about from post to pillar, and from pillar to post," said Mr. George, "that he got out of sorts.

"Why, the man was so badgered and worried and tortured," said Mr. George, "that he got out of sorts.


I don't believe he had any idea of taking aim at anybody, but he was in that condition of resentment and violence that he would come and pay for fifty shots and fire away till he was red hot.


One day I said to him when there was nobody by and he had been talking to me angrily about his wrongs, 'If this practice is a safety-valve, comrade, well and good; but I don't altogether like your being so bent upon it in your present state of mind; I'd rather you took to something else.'

One day I said to him when there was nobody by, 'If this practice is a safety-valve, comrade, well and good; but I'd rather you took to something else.'


I was on my guard for a blow, he was that passionate; but he received it in very good part and left off directly.

He received it in very good part and left off directly.


We shook hands and struck up a sort of friendship."


asked my guardian in a new tone of interest.


"Why, he began by being a small Shropshire farmer before they made a baited bull of him," said Mr. George.

"Why, he began as a small Shropshire farmer before they made a baited bull of him," said Mr. George.


Mr. George directed another succession of quick bright glances at me as my guardian and I exchanged a word or two of surprise at the coincidence, and I therefore explained to him how we knew the name.

I explained to him how we knew the name.


He made me another of his soldierly bows in acknowledgment of what he called my condescension.


"I don't know," he said as he looked at me, "what it is that sets me off again--but--bosh!

"I don't know," he said as he looked at me, "what it is that sets me off again - but - bosh!"


He passed one of his heavy hands over his crisp dark hair as if to sweep the broken thoughts out of his mind and sat a little forward, with one arm akimbo and the other resting on his leg, looking in a brown study at the ground.

He passed one of his heavy hands over his crisp dark hair as if to sweep the broken thoughts out of his mind.


"I am sorry to learn that the same state of mind has got this Gridley into new troubles and that he is in hiding," said my guardian.

"I am sorry to learn that this Gridley has got into new troubles and is in hiding," said my guardian.


"So I am told, sir," returned Mr. George, still musing and looking on the ground.

"So I am told, sir," returned Mr. George.


"No, sir," returned the trooper, lifting up his eyes and coming out of his reverie.


You may file a strong man's heart away for a good many years, but it will tell all of a sudden at last."


Richard's entrance stopped the conversation.


Mr. George rose, made me another of his soldierly bows, wished my guardian a good day, and strode heavily out of the room.

Mr. George rose, made me another bow, and strode heavily out of the room.


This was the morning of the day appointed for Richard's departure.

This was the day appointed for Richard's departure.


We had no more purchases to make now; I had completed all his packing early in the afternoon; and our time was disengaged until night, when he was to go to Liverpool for Holyhead.

I had completed all his packing; and our time was free until night, when he was to go to Liverpool and on to Holyhead.


Jarndyce and Jarndyce being again expected to come on that day, Richard proposed to me that we should go down to the court and hear what passed.


As it was his last day, and he was eager to go, and I had never been there, I gave my consent and we walked down to Westminster, where the court was then sitting.

As it was his last day, and he was eager to go, and I had never been there, I agreed.


We beguiled the way with arrangements concerning the letters that Richard was to write to me and the letters that I was to write to him and with a great many hopeful projects.

As we walked down to Westminster, we talked about the letters that Richard was to write to me and that I was to write to him.


My guardian knew where we were going and therefore was not with us.

My guardian knew where we were going, and therefore was not with us.


When we came to the court, there was the Lord Chancellor--the same whom I had seen in his private room in Lincoln's Inn--sitting in great state and gravity on the bench, with the mace and seals on a red table below him and an immense flat nosegay, like a little garden, which scented the whole court.

When we came to the court, there was the Lord Chancellor sitting in great state on the bench, with the mace and seals on a red table below him.


Below the table, again, was a long row of solicitors, with bundles of papers on the matting at their feet; and then there were the gentlemen of the bar in wigs and gowns--some awake and some asleep, and one talking, and nobody paying much attention to what he said.

Below the table was a long row of solicitors, with bundles of papers at their feet; and then there were the gentlemen of the bar in wigs and gowns - some awake and some asleep.


The Lord Chancellor leaned back in his very easy chair with his elbow on the cushioned arm and his forehead resting on his hand; some of those who were present dozed; some read the newspapers; some walked about or whispered in groups: all seemed perfectly at their ease, by no means in a hurry, very unconcerned, and extremely comfortable.

The Lord Chancellor leaned back in his easy chair; some of those who were present dozed; some read the newspapers; all seemed perfectly at their ease, in no hurry, very unconcerned and comfortable.


To see everything going on so smoothly and to think of the roughness of the suitors' lives and deaths; to see all that full dress and ceremony and to think of the waste, and want, and beggared misery it represented; to consider that while the sickness of hope deferred was raging in so many hearts this polite show went calmly on from day to day, and year to year, in such good order and composure; to behold the Lord Chancellor and the whole array of practitioners under him looking at one another and at the spectators as if nobody had ever heard that all over England the name in which they were assembled was a bitter jest, was held in universal horror, contempt, and indignation, was known for something so flagrant and bad that little short of a miracle could bring any good out of it to any one--this was so curious and self-contradictory to me, who had no experience of it, that it was at first incredible, and I could not comprehend it.

To see everything going on so smoothly and to think of the roughness of the suitors' lives and deaths; to see all that ceremony and to think of the waste, and want, and beggared misery it represented; to consider that while the sickness of deferred hope was raging in so many hearts, this polite show went calmly on from day to day, and year to year; to behold the Lord Chancellor and the whole array of practitioners as if nobody had ever heard that all over England the name of Chancery was a bitter jest, held in universal horror and contempt - this was so curious to me that I could not comprehend it.


I sat where Richard put me, and tried to listen, and looked about me; but there seemed to be no reality in the whole scene except poor little Miss Flite, the madwoman, standing on a bench and nodding at it.

I sat and tried to listen, and looked about me; but there seemed to be no reality in the whole scene except poor little Miss Flite, standing on a bench.


Miss Flite soon espied us and came to where we sat.


She gave me a gracious welcome to her domain and indicated, with much gratification and pride, its principal attractions.

She gave me a gracious welcome to her domain.


Mr. Kenge also came to speak to us and did the honours of the place in much the same way, with the bland modesty of a proprietor. It was not a very good day for a visit, he said; he would have preferred the first day of term; but it was imposing, it was imposing.

Mr. Kenge also came to speak to us: it was not a very good day for a visit, he said; but it was imposing, it was imposing.


When we had been there half an hour or so, the case in progress--if I may use a phrase so ridiculous in such a connexion--seemed to die out of its own vapidity, without coming, or being by anybody expected to come, to any result.

When we had been there half an hour or so, the case in progress seemed to die out without coming to any result.


The Lord Chancellor then threw down a bundle of papers from his desk to the gentlemen below him, and somebody said, "Jarndyce and Jarndyce."

The Lord Chancellor threw down a bundle of papers from his desk to the gentlemen below him, and somebody said, "Jarndyce and Jarndyce."


Upon this there was a buzz, and a laugh, and a general withdrawal of the bystanders, and a bringing in of great heaps, and piles, and bags and bags full of papers.

Upon this there was a buzz, and a laugh, and a bringing in of great heaps and bags and bags full of papers.


I think it came on "for further directions"--about some bill of costs, to the best of my understanding, which was confused enough.

I think it came on "for further directions" - about some bill of costs, which I found confusing enough.


But I counted twenty-three gentlemen in wigs who said they were "in it," and none of them appeared to understand it much better than I.


They chatted about it with the Lord Chancellor, and contradicted and explained among themselves, and some of them said it was this way, and some of them said it was that way, and some of them jocosely proposed to read huge volumes of affidavits, and there was more buzzing and laughing, and everybody concerned was in a state of idle entertainment, and nothing could be made of it by anybody.

Some of them said it was this way, and some of them said it was that way, and some of them proposed to read huge volumes of affidavits, and there was more buzzing and laughing, and everybody concerned was in a state of idle entertainment, and nothing could be made of it by anybody.


After an hour or so of this, and a good many speeches being begun and cut short, it was "referred back for the present," as Mr. Kenge said, and the papers were bundled up again before the clerks had finished bringing them in.

After an hour or so of this, it was "referred back for the present," as Mr. Kenge said, and the papers were bundled up again.


I glanced at Richard on the termination of these hopeless proceedings and was shocked to see the worn look of his handsome young face.

I glanced at Richard and was shocked to see the worn look of his handsome young face.


I had seen Mr. Guppy bringing in papers and arranging them for Mr. Kenge; and he had seen me and made me a forlorn bow, which rendered me desirous to get out of the court.

I had seen Mr. Guppy bringing in papers for Mr. Kenge; and he had seen me and bowed forlornly, which made me wish to get out of the court.


Richard had given me his arm and was taking me away when Mr. Guppy came up.

Richard was taking me away when Mr. Guppy came up.


"I beg your pardon, Mr. Carstone," said he in a whisper, "and Miss Summerson's also, but there's a lady here, a friend of mine, who knows her and wishes to have the pleasure of shaking hands."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Carstone," said he in a whisper, "and Miss Summerson's, but there's a lady here, a friend of mine, who knows her."


As he spoke, I saw before me, as if she had started into bodily shape from my remembrance, Mrs. Rachael of my godmother's house.

As he spoke, I saw before me Mrs. Rachael of my godmother's house.


I gave her my hand and told her yes and that she was very little altered.


"I wonder you remember those times, Esther," she returned with her old asperity.


I am glad to see you, and glad you are not too proud to know me."


But indeed she seemed disappointed that I was not.


"I am married, Esther," she returned, coldly correcting me, "and am Mrs. Chadband.


I wish you good day, and I hope you'll do well."


Mr. Guppy, who had been attentive to this short dialogue, heaved a sigh in my ear and elbowed his own and Mrs. Rachael's way through the confused little crowd of people coming in and going out, which we were in the midst of and which the change in the business had brought together.

Mr. Guppy heaved a sigh in my ear and elbowed his own and Mrs. Rachael's way through the confused crowd.


Richard and I were making our way through it, and I was yet in the first chill of the late unexpected recognition when I saw, coming towards us, but not seeing us, no less a person than Mr. George.

Richard and I were making our way through it, and I was still in the first chill of the unexpected recognition when I saw, coming towards us, but not seeing us, Mr. George.


He made nothing of the people about him as he tramped on, staring over their heads into the body of the court.


said Richard as I called his attention to him.


Could you point a person out for me, I want?


Turning as he spoke and making an easy way for us, he stopped when we were out of the press in a corner behind a great red curtain.


"There's a little cracked old woman," he began, "that--"

There's a little cracked old woman, that-"


I put up my finger, for Miss Flite was close by me, having kept beside me all the time and having called the attention of several of her legal acquaintance to me (as I had overheard to my confusion) by whispering in their ears, "Hush!

I put up my finger, for Miss Flite was close by.


"You remember, miss, that we passed some conversation on a certain man this morning?

"You remember, miss, that we spoke of a certain man this morning?


Gridley," in a low whisper behind his hand.


He is on his last march, miss, and has a whim to see her.


He says they can feel for one another, and she has been almost as good as a friend to him here.

He says she has been almost as good as a friend to him here.


I came down to look for her, for when I sat by Gridley this afternoon, I seemed to hear the roll of the muffled drums."


he returned with a glance of something like apprehension at Miss Flite.


"It's a providence I met you, miss; I doubt if I should have known how to get on with that lady."


And he put one hand in his breast and stood upright in a martial attitude as I informed little Miss Flite, in her ear, of the purport of his kind errand.

He stood upright in a martial attitude as I informed little Miss Flite of the reason for his kind errand.


My dear, I will wait upon him with the greatest pleasure."

"My dear, I will visit him with the greatest pleasure."


"He is living concealed at Mr. George's," said I.


Poor Miss Flite deemed it necessary to be so courtly and polite, as a mark of her respect for the army, and to curtsy so very often that it was no easy matter to get her out of the court.

Poor Miss Flite deemed it necessary to be so polite, as a mark of her respect for the army, and to curtsy so very often that it was no easy matter to get her out of the court.


When this was at last done, and addressing Mr. George as "General," she gave him her arm, to the great entertainment of some idlers who were looking on, he was so discomposed and begged me so respectfully "not to desert him" that I could not make up my mind to do it, especially as Miss Flite was always tractable with me and as she too said, "Fitz Jarndyce, my dear, you will accompany us, of course." As Richard seemed quite willing, and even anxious, that we should see them safely to their destination, we agreed to do so.

When this was at last done, addressing Mr. George as "General," she gave him her arm. He was so discomposed and begged me so respectfully "not to desert him" that Richard and I said we should see them safely to their destination.


And as Mr. George informed us that Gridley's mind had run on Mr. Jarndyce all the afternoon after hearing of their interview in the morning, I wrote a hasty note in pencil to my guardian to say where we were gone and why.

And as Mr. George informed us that Gridley's mind had run on Mr. Jarndyce all afternoon, I wrote a hasty note to my guardian to say where we were gone and why.


Mr. George sealed it at a coffee-house, that it might lead to no discovery, and we sent it off by a ticket-porter.

Mr. George sent it off by a ticket-porter.


We then took a hackney-coach and drove away to the neighbourhood of Leicester Square.

We then took a hackney-coach to the neighbourhood of Leicester Square.


We walked through some narrow courts, for which Mr. George apologized, and soon came to the shooting gallery, the door of which was closed.

We walked through some narrow courts, and soon came to the shooting gallery, the door of which was closed.


As he pulled a bell-handle which hung by a chain to the door-post, a very respectable old gentleman with grey hair, wearing spectacles, and dressed in a black spencer and gaiters and a broad-brimmed hat, and carrying a large gold-beaded cane, addressed him.

As Mr. George pulled a bell-handle, a very respectable old gentleman with grey hair, wearing spectacles and a broad-brimmed hat, and carrying a large gold-headed cane, addressed him.


"I ask your pardon, my good friend," said he, "but is this George's Shooting Gallery?"


"It is, sir," returned Mr. George, glancing up at the great letters in which that inscription was painted on the whitewashed wall.


said the old gentleman, following his eyes.


"My name is George, sir, and I have rung the bell."


"Then it was your young man who came for me.


I am a physician and was requested--five minutes ago--to come and visit a sick man at George's Shooting Gallery."

I am a physician and was requested - five minutes ago - to come and visit a sick man here."


"The muffled drums," said Mr. George, turning to Richard and me and gravely shaking his head. "It's quite correct, sir.

"Quite correct, sir," said Mr. George gravely.


The door being at that moment opened by a very singular-looking little man in a green-baize cap and apron, whose face and hands and dress were blackened all over, we passed along a dreary passage into a large building with bare brick walls where there were targets, and guns, and swords, and other things of that kind.

The door being at that moment opened by a very singular-looking little man in a green-baize apron, whose face and hands and dress were blackened all over, we passed along a dreary passage into a large building with bare brick walls where there were targets, and guns, and swords.


When we had all arrived here, the physician stopped, and taking off his hat, appeared to vanish by magic and to leave another and quite a different man in his place.

The physician stopped, and taking off his hat, appeared to vanish by magic and to leave another and quite a different man in his place.


"Now lookee here, George," said the man, turning quickly round upon him and tapping him on the breast with a large forefinger.


You're a man of the world, and I'm a man of the world.


My name's Bucket, as you are aware, and I have got a peace-warrant against Gridley.


You have kept him out of the way a long time, and you have been artful in it, and it does you credit."

You have kept him out of the way a long time, and been artful in it, and it does you credit."


Mr. George, looking hard at him, bit his lip and shook his head.

Mr. George bit his lip and shook his head.


"Now, George," said the other, keeping close to him, "you're a sensible man and a well-conducted man; that's what YOU are, beyond a doubt.

"Now, George, you're a sensible man and a well-conducted man; that's what you are.


And mind you, I don't talk to you as a common character, because you have served your country and you know that when duty calls we must obey.


Consequently you're very far from wanting to give trouble.


If I required assistance, you'd assist me; that's what YOU'D do.


Phil Squod, don't you go a-sidling round the gallery like that"--the dirty little man was shuffling about with his shoulder against the wall, and his eyes on the intruder, in a manner that looked threatening--"because I know you and won't have it."

Phil Squod, don't you go a-sidling round the gallery like that" - the dirty little man was shuffling about with his shoulder against the wall, and his eyes on the intruder- "because I know you and I won't have it."


The little man, with a low growl, stood still.


"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Bucket, "you'll excuse anything that may appear to be disagreeable in this, for my name's Inspector Bucket of the Detective, and I have a duty to perform.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Bucket, "I have a duty to perform.


George, I know where my man is because I was on the roof last night and saw him through the skylight, and you along with him.

George, I know where my man is because I was on the roof last night and saw him through the skylight.


He is in there, you know," pointing; "that's where HE is--on a sofy.

He is in there, you know," pointing; "on a sofy.


Now I must see my man, and I must tell my man to consider himself in custody; but you know me, and you know I don't want to take any uncomfortable measures.

Now I must see my man, and I must tell him to consider himself in custody; but you know me, and you know I don't want to take any uncomfortable measures.


You give me your word, as from one man to another (and an old soldier, mind you, likewise), that it's honourable between us two, and I'll accommodate you to the utmost of my power."

You give me your word that it's honourable between us two, and I'll accommodate you to the utmost of my power."


"But it wasn't handsome in you, Mr. Bucket."


said Mr. Bucket, tapping him on his broad breast again and shaking hands with him.


"I don't say it wasn't handsome in you to keep my man so close, do I?

"I don't say it wasn't handsome in you to keep my man so secret, do I?


Be equally good-tempered to me, old boy!"


Old William Tell, Old Shaw, the Life Guardsman!


Why, he's a model of the whole British army in himself, ladies and gentlemen.


I'd give a fifty-pun' note to be such a figure of a man!"


The affair being brought to this head, Mr. George, after a little consideration, proposed to go in first to his comrade (as he called him), taking Miss Flite with him.


Mr. Bucket agreeing, they went away to the further end of the gallery, leaving us sitting and standing by a table covered with guns.

Mr. Bucket agreeing, they went away to the further end of the gallery, leaving us by a table covered with guns.


Mr. Bucket took this opportunity of entering into a little light conversation, asking me if I were afraid of fire-arms, as most young ladies were; asking Richard if he were a good shot; asking Phil Squod which he considered the best of those rifles and what it might be worth first-hand, telling him in return that it was a pity he ever gave way to his temper, for he was naturally so amiable that he might have been a young woman, and making himself generally agreeable.

Mr. Bucket entered into a little light conversation, asking me if I were afraid of fire-arms, as most young ladies were; asking Richard if he were a good shot; asking Phil Squod which he considered the best of those rifles, and making himself generally agreeable.


After a time he followed us to the further end of the gallery, and Richard and I were going quietly away when Mr. George came after us. He said that if we had no objection to see his comrade, he would take a visit from us very kindly.

After a time Mr. George came and said that if Richard and I had no objection to seeing his comrade, he would take a visit from us very kindly.


The words had hardly passed his lips when the bell was rung and my guardian appeared, "on the chance," he slightly observed, "of being able to do any little thing for a poor fellow involved in the same misfortune as himself."

The words had hardly passed his lips when the bell was rung and my guardian appeared, "on the chance," he observed, "of being able to do any little thing for the poor fellow."


We all four went back together and went into the place where Gridley was.

We all four went into the place where Gridley was.


It was a bare room, partitioned off from the gallery with unpainted wood.

It was a bare room, partitioned off from the gallery by a high screen.


As the screening was not more than eight or ten feet high and only enclosed the sides, not the top, the rafters of the high gallery roof were overhead, and the skylight through which Mr. Bucket had looked down.

Overhead were the rafters, and the skylight through which Mr. Bucket had looked down.


The sun was low--near setting--and its light came redly in above, without descending to the ground.

The sun was near setting, and its light came redly in above.


Upon a plain canvas-covered sofa lay the man from Shropshire, dressed much as we had seen him last, but so changed that at first I recognized no likeness in his colourless face to what I recollected.

Upon a canvas-covered sofa lay the man from Shropshire, but so changed that at first I did not recognize his colourless face.


He had been still writing in his hiding-place, and still dwelling on his grievances, hour after hour.

He had been writing in his hiding-place, and still dwelling on his grievances.


A table and some shelves were covered with manuscript papers and with worn pens and a medley of such tokens.

A table was covered with manuscripts and worn pens.


Touchingly and awfully drawn together, he and the little mad woman were side by side and, as it were, alone. She sat on a chair holding his hand, and none of us went close to them.

He and the little mad woman were side by side; she sat on a chair holding his hand.


His voice had faded, with the old expression of his face, with his strength, with his anger, with his resistance to the wrongs that had at last subdued him. The faintest shadow of an object full of form and colour is such a picture of it as he was of the man from Shropshire whom we had spoken with before.

His voice had faded, with his strength and his anger; he was the faintest shadow of the former man from Shropshire.


He inclined his head to Richard and me and spoke to my guardian.


"Mr. Jarndyce, it is very kind of you to come to see me.


You are a good man, superior to injustice, and God knows I honour you."


They shook hands earnestly, and my guardian said some words of comfort to him.


"It may seem strange to you, sir," returned Gridley; "I should not have liked to see you if this had been the first time of our meeting.


But you know I made a fight for it, you know I stood up with my single hand against them all, you know I told them the truth to the last, and told them what they were, and what they had done to me; so I don't mind your seeing me, this wreck."

"You know I made a fight for it," said Gridley, "you know I stood up against them all, you know I told them the truth to the last, and told them what they had done to me."


"You have been courageous with them many and many a time," returned my guardian.


"I told you what would come of it when I ceased to be so, and see here!


He drew the hand Miss Flite held through her arm and brought her something nearer to him.


Of all my old associations, of all my old pursuits and hopes, of all the living and the dead world, this one poor soul alone comes natural to me, and I am fit for.

Of all my old associations, this one poor soul alone comes natural to me.


There is a tie of many suffering years between us two, and it is the only tie I ever had on earth that Chancery has not broken."


"Accept my blessing, Gridley," said Miss Flite in tears.


"I thought, boastfully, that they never could break my heart, Mr. Jarndyce.