Now, if I had stayed at Badger's I should have been obliged to spend twelve pounds at a blow for some heart-breaking lecture-fees.


So I make four pounds--in a lump--by the transaction!"


It was a question much discussed between him and my guardian what arrangements should be made for his living in London while he experimented on the law, for we had long since gone back to Bleak House, and it was too far off to admit of his coming there oftener than once a week.

It was a question much discussed where he should live in London while he studied the law, for we had now gone back to Bleak House, which was too far off to allow his coming oftener than once a week.


My guardian told me that if Richard were to settle down at Mr. Kenge's he would take some apartments or chambers where we too could occasionally stay for a few days at a time; "but, little woman," he added, rubbing his head very significantly, "he hasn't settled down there yet!"

My guardian told me that if Richard were to settle down at Mr. Kenge's he would take some apartments where we too could occasionally stay for a few days at a time; "but, little woman," he added, "he hasn't settled down there yet!"


The discussions ended in our hiring for him, by the month, a neat little furnished lodging in a quiet old house near Queen Square.


He immediately began to spend all the money he had in buying the oddest little ornaments and luxuries for this lodging; and so often as Ada and I dissuaded him from making any purchase that he had in contemplation which was particularly unnecessary and expensive, he took credit for what it would have cost and made out that to spend anything less on something else was to save the difference.

He immediately began to spend all his money in buying little ornaments and luxuries for this lodging; and so often as Ada and I dissuaded him from making any unnecessary purchase, he took credit for what it would have cost and spent it on something else.


While these affairs were in abeyance, our visit to Mr. Boythorn's was postponed.

Meanwhile our visit to Mr. Boythorn's was postponed.


At length, Richard having taken possession of his lodging, there was nothing to prevent our departure. He could have gone with us at that time of the year very well, but he was in the full novelty of his new position and was making most energetic attempts to unravel the mysteries of the fatal suit.

At length Richard moved into his lodging, and was soon making energetic attempts to unravel the mysteries of the fatal lawsuit.


Consequently we went without him, and my darling was delighted to praise him for being so busy.

Consequently we went on our visit without him, and my darling was delighted to praise him for being so busy.


We made a pleasant journey down into Lincolnshire by the coach and had an entertaining companion in Mr. Skimpole.

We made a pleasant journey into Lincolnshire by the coach and had an entertaining companion in Mr. Skimpole.


His furniture had been all cleared off, it appeared, by the person who took possession of it on his blue-eyed daughter's birthday, but he seemed quite relieved to think that it was gone.

His furniture had been all removed, it appeared, by the person who took possession of it on his blue-eyed daughter's birthday, but he seemed quite relieved that it was gone.


Chairs and table, he said, were wearisome objects; they were monotonous ideas, they had no variety of expression, they looked you out of countenance, and you looked them out of countenance.

Chairs and tables, he said, were wearisome and monotonous objects.


How pleasant, then, to be bound to no particular chairs and tables, but to sport like a butterfly among all the furniture on hire, and to flit from rosewood to mahogany, and from mahogany to walnut, and from this shape to that, as the humour took one!

How pleasant, then, to be bound to no particular chairs and tables, but to sport like a butterfly among all the furniture on hire, and to flit from rosewood to mahogany, as the humour took one!


"The oddity of the thing is," said Mr. Skimpole with a quickened sense of the ludicrous, "that my chairs and tables were not paid for, and yet my landlord walks off with them as composedly as possible.

"The oddity of the thing is," said Mr. Skimpole, "that my chairs and tables were not paid for, and yet my landlord walks off with them as composedly as possible.


The chair and table merchant never engaged to pay my landlord my rent.

The chair merchant never engaged to pay my landlord my rent!"


Why should my landlord quarrel with HIM?


If I have a pimple on my nose which is disagreeable to my landlord's peculiar ideas of beauty, my landlord has no business to scratch my chair and table merchant's nose, which has no pimple on it.


"Well," said my guardian good-humouredly, "it's pretty clear that whoever became security for those chairs and tables will have to pay for them."


"That's the crowning point of unreason in the business! I said to my landlord, 'My good man, you are not aware that my excellent friend Jarndyce will have to pay for those things that you are sweeping off in that indelicate manner.

"That's what I said to my landlord. 'My good man, are you not aware that my excellent friend Jarndyce will have to pay for those things that you are sweeping off?


Have you no consideration for HIS property?'

Have you no consideration for his property?'


"And refused all proposals," said my guardian.


"Refused all proposals," returned Mr. Skimpole.


I said, 'You are a man of business, I believe?'


He replied, 'I am,' 'Very well,' said I, 'now let us be business-like.


Here is an inkstand, here are pens and paper, here are wafers.

Here is an inkstand, here are pens and paper.


I have occupied your house for a considerable period, I believe to our mutual satisfaction until this unpleasant misunderstanding arose; let us be at once friendly and business-like.

I have occupied your house to our mutual satisfaction until now; let us be friendly and business-like.'


In reply to this, he made use of the figurative expression--which has something Eastern about it--that he had never seen the colour of my money.

He replied that he had never seen the colour of my money.


'My amiable friend,' said I, 'I never have any money.


'Well, sir,' said he, 'what do you offer if I give you time?'


'My good fellow,' said I, 'I have no idea of time; but you say you are a man of business, and whatever you can suggest to be done in a business-like way with pen, and ink, and paper--and wafers--I am ready to do.

'My good fellow,' said I, 'I have no idea of time; but you say you are a man of business, and whatever you can suggest to be done in a business-like way, I am ready to do.


Don't pay yourself at another man's expense (which is foolish), but be business-like!'


However, he wouldn't be, and there was an end of it."


If these were some of the inconveniences of Mr. Skimpole's childhood, it assuredly possessed its advantages too.


On the journey he had a very good appetite for such refreshment as came in our way (including a basket of choice hothouse peaches), but never thought of paying for anything.

On the journey Mr. Skimpole had a very good, child-like appetite for such refreshment as came in our way (including some choice hothouse peaches), but never thought of paying for anything.


So when the coachman came round for his fee, he pleasantly asked him what he considered a very good fee indeed, now--a liberal one--and on his replying half a crown for a single passenger, said it was little enough too, all things considered, and left Mr. Jarndyce to give it him.

When the coachman came round for his fee, he pleasantly asked him what he considered a liberal one - and on his replying half a crown for a single passenger, said it was little enough too, and left Mr. Jarndyce to give it him.


The green corn waved so beautifully, the larks sang so joyfully, the hedges were so full of wild flowers, the trees were so thickly out in leaf, the bean-fields, with a light wind blowing over them, filled the air with such a delicious fragrance!

The green corn waved so beautifully, the larks sang so joyfully, the hedges were so full of wild flowers, the trees were so thickly out in leaf, the bean-fields filled the air with such a delicious fragrance!


Late in the afternoon we came to the market-town where we were to alight from the coach--a dull little town with a church-spire, and a marketplace, and a market-cross, and one intensely sunny street, and a pond with an old horse cooling his legs in it, and a very few men sleepily lying and standing about in narrow little bits of shade.

Late in the afternoon we came to the market-town where we alighted from the coach - a dull little town with a church-spire, a market-cross, one intensely sunny street, and a pond with an old horse cooling his legs in it.


After the rustling of the leaves and the waving of the corn all along the road, it looked as still, as hot, as motionless a little town as England could produce.


At the inn we found Mr. Boythorn on horseback, waiting with an open carriage to take us to his house, which was a few miles off.

At the inn we found Mr. Boythorn, on horseback, waiting with an open carriage to take us to his house a few miles off.


He was overjoyed to see us and dismounted with great alacrity.


said he after giving us a courteous greeting.


It is the most flagrant example of an abominable public vehicle that ever encumbered the face of the earth.

It is the most abominable public vehicle that ever encumbered the face of the earth.


It is twenty-five minutes after its time this afternoon. The coachman ought to be put to death!"
"IS he after his time?" said Mr. Skimpole, to whom he happened to address himself. "You know my infirmity."
"Twenty-five minutes! Twenty-six minutes!" replied Mr. Boythorn, referring to his watch. "With two ladies in the coach, this scoundrel has deliberately delayed his arrival six and twenty minutes. Deliberately!

It is twenty-six minutes late! With two ladies in the coach, this scoundrel of a coachman has deliberately delayed his arrival six and twenty minutes! He ought to be put to death!"


It is impossible that it can be accidental!


But his father--and his uncle--were the most profligate coachmen that ever sat upon a box."


While he said this in tones of the greatest indignation, he handed us into the little phaeton with the utmost gentleness and was all smiles and pleasure.

While he said this, he handed us into the little phaeton with the utmost gentleness.


"I am sorry, ladies," he said, standing bare-headed at the carriage-door when all was ready, "that I am obliged to conduct you nearly two miles out of the way.

"I am sorry, ladies," he said, "that I am obliged to conduct you nearly two miles out of the way.


But our direct road lies through Sir Leicester Dedlock's park, and in that fellow's property I have sworn never to set foot of mine, or horse's foot of mine, pending the present relations between us, while I breathe the breath of life!"

But our direct road lies through Sir Leicester Dedlock's park, and in that fellow's property I have sworn never to set foot, while I breathe!"


And here, catching my guardian's eye, he broke into one of his tremendous laughs, which seemed to shake even the motionless little market-town.

And he broke into one of his tremendous laughs, which seemed to shake even the motionless little market-town.


said my guardian as we drove along and Mr. Boythorn trotted on the green turf by the roadside.

said my guardian as we drove along and Mr. Boythorn trotted alongside.


"Sir Arrogant Numskull is here," replied Mr. Boythorn.


Sir Arrogant is here, and I am glad to say, has been laid by the heels here.

I am glad to say, he has been laid by the heels here.


My Lady," in naming whom he always made a courtly gesture as if particularly to exclude her from any part in the quarrel, "is expected, I believe, daily.

My Lady," - he made a courtly gesture as if to exclude her from any part in the quarrel - "is expected daily.


I am not in the least surprised that she postpones her appearance as long as possible.


Whatever can have induced that transcendent woman to marry that effigy and figure-head of a baronet is one of the most impenetrable mysteries that ever baffled human inquiry.

Whatever can have induced that transcendent woman to marry him is an impenetrable mystery.


"I suppose," said my guardian, laughing, "WE may set foot in the park while we are here?

"I suppose," said my guardian, laughing, "We may set foot in the park while we are here?


The prohibition does not extend to us, does it?"


"I can lay no prohibition on my guests," he said, bending his head to Ada and me with the smiling politeness which sat so gracefully upon him, "except in the matter of their departure.

"I can lay no prohibition on my guests," said Boythorn with smiling politeness.


I am only sorry that I cannot have the happiness of being their escort about Chesney Wold, which is a very fine place!

"I am only sorry that I cannot be their escort about Chesney Wold, which is a very fine place!


But by the light of this summer day, Jarndyce, if you call upon the owner while you stay with me, you are likely to have but a cool reception.

But, Jarndyce, if you call upon the owner while you stay with me, you are likely to have a cool reception.


He carries himself like an eight-day clock at all times, like one of a race of eight-day clocks in gorgeous cases that never go and never went--Ha ha ha!--but he will have some extra stiffness, I can promise you, for the friends of his friend and neighbour Boythorn!"

He carries himself as stiffly as a grandfather clock at all times - Ha ha ha! - but he will have some extra stiffness, I can promise you, for the friends of his neighbour Boythorn!"


"I shall not put him to the proof," said my guardian.

"I shall not test it by seeing him," said my guardian.


"He is as indifferent to the honour of knowing me, I dare say, as I am to the honour of knowing him.


The air of the grounds and perhaps such a view of the house as any other sightseer might get are quite enough for me."

"A sight of the grounds and perhaps a view of the house are quite enough for me."


I am looked upon about here as a second Ajax defying the lightning.

I am looked upon around here as a second Ajax defying the lightning.


When I go into our little church on a Sunday, a considerable part of the inconsiderable congregation expect to see me drop, scorched and withered, on the pavement under the Dedlock displeasure.

When I go into our little church on a Sunday, most of the congregation expect to see me drop, scorched and withered, on the pavement under the Dedlock displeasure.


I have no doubt he is surprised that I don't.


For he is, by heaven, the most self-satisfied, and the shallowest, and the most coxcombical and utterly brainless ass!"

By heaven, he is the most self-satisfied and utterly brainless ass!"


Our coming to the ridge of a hill we had been ascending enabled our friend to point out Chesney Wold itself to us and diverted his attention from its master.

On our coming to the ridge of a hill, our friend pointed out Chesney Wold.


It was a picturesque old house in a fine park richly wooded. Among the trees and not far from the residence he pointed out the spire of the little church of which he had spoken.

It was a picturesque old house in a fine park richly wooded, with the spire of the little church nearby.


Oh, the solemn woods over which the light and shadow travelled swiftly, as if heavenly wings were sweeping on benignant errands through the summer air; the smooth green slopes, the glittering water, the garden where the flowers were so symmetrically arranged in clusters of the richest colours, how beautiful they looked!

Oh, the solemn woods over which the light and shadow travelled swiftly, as if heavenly wings were sweeping through the summer air; the smooth green slopes, the glittering water, the garden full of the richest colours, how beautiful they looked!


The house, with gable and chimney, and tower, and turret, and dark doorway, and broad terrace-walk, twining among the balustrades of which, and lying heaped upon the vases, there was one great flush of roses, seemed scarcely real in its light solidity and in the serene and peaceful hush that rested on all around it.

The house, with gable and chimney, and tower and turret, and broad terrace-walk, with a great flush of roses twining among its balustrades, seemed scarcely real in the serene and peaceful hush.


To Ada and to me, that above all appeared the pervading influence.


On everything, house, garden, terrace, green slopes, water, old oaks, fern, moss, woods again, and far away across the openings in the prospect to the distance lying wide before us with a purple bloom upon it, there seemed to be such undisturbed repose.

On everything, house, garden, terrace, woods, there seemed to be such undisturbed repose.


When we came into the little village and passed a small inn with the sign of the Dedlock Arms swinging over the road in front, Mr. Boythorn interchanged greetings with a young gentleman sitting on a bench outside the inn-door who had some fishing-tackle lying beside him.

We came into the little village and passed a small inn with the sign of the Dedlock Arms swinging over it. Mr. Boythorn exchanged greetings with a young gentleman sitting on a bench outside the inn, with fishing-tackle lying beside him.


"That's the housekeeper's grandson, Mr. Rouncewell by name," said, he, "and he is in love with a pretty girl up at the house.

"That's the housekeeper's grandson, Mr. Rouncewell," said he, "and he is in love with a pretty girl up at the house.


Lady Dedlock has taken a fancy to the pretty girl and is going to keep her about her own fair person--an honour which my young friend himself does not at all appreciate.

Lady Dedlock has taken a fancy to her and is going to keep her about her own fair person - an honour which my young friend does not at all appreciate.


However, he can't marry just yet, even if his Rosebud were willing; so he is fain to make the best of it. In the meanwhile, he comes here pretty often for a day or two at a time to--fish.

However, he has to make the best of it, and comes here pretty often - to fish.


"Are he and the pretty girl engaged, Mr. Boythorn?"


"Why, my dear Miss Clare," he returned, "I think they may perhaps understand each other; but you will see them soon, I dare say, and I must learn from you on such a point--not you from me."


Ada blushed, and Mr. Boythorn, trotting forward on his comely grey horse, dismounted at his own door and stood ready with extended arm and uncovered head to welcome us when we arrived.

Mr. Boythorn dismounted at his own door and stood ready to welcome us.


He lived in a pretty house, formerly the parsonage house, with a lawn in front, a bright flower-garden at the side, and a well-stocked orchard and kitchen-garden in the rear, enclosed with a venerable wall that had of itself a ripened ruddy look.

He lived in a pretty house, formerly the parsonage, with a lawn in front, a bright flower-garden at the side, and a well-stocked orchard and kitchen-garden in the rear.


But, indeed, everything about the place wore an aspect of maturity and abundance.

Everything wore an aspect of maturity and abundance.


The old lime-tree walk was like green cloisters, the very shadows of the cherry-trees and apple-trees were heavy with fruit, the gooseberry-bushes were so laden that their branches arched and rested on the earth, the strawberries and raspberries grew in like profusion, and the peaches basked by the hundred on the wall.

The old lime-tree walk was like green cloisters, the very shadows of the cherry-trees and apple-trees were heavy with fruit, the gooseberry-bushes were so laden that their branches arched onto the earth, the strawberries and raspberries grew in profusion, and the peaches basked by the hundred on the wall.


Tumbled about among the spread nets and the glass frames sparkling and winking in the sun there were such heaps of drooping pods, and marrows, and cucumbers, that every foot of ground appeared a vegetable treasury, while the smell of sweet herbs and all kinds of wholesome growth (to say nothing of the neighbouring meadows where the hay was carrying) made the whole air a great nosegay.

Tumbled about among the glass frames were such heaps of marrows and cucumbers that every foot of ground appeared a vegetable treasury, while the smell of herbs sweetened the air.


Such stillness and composure reigned within the orderly precincts of the old red wall that even the feathers hung in garlands to scare the birds hardly stirred; and the wall had such a ripening influence that where, here and there high up, a disused nail and scrap of list still clung to it, it was easy to fancy that they had mellowed with the changing seasons and that they had rusted and decayed according to the common fate.


The house, though a little disorderly in comparison with the garden, was a real old house with settles in the chimney of the brick-floored kitchen and great beams across the ceilings.

The house, though a little disorderly in comparison with the garden, was a real old house with seats in the chimney of the kitchen and great beams across the ceilings.


On one side of it was the terrible piece of ground in dispute, where Mr. Boythorn maintained a sentry in a smock-frock day and night, whose duty was supposed to be, in cases of aggression, immediately to ring a large bell hung up there for the purpose, to unchain a great bull-dog established in a kennel as his ally, and generally to deal destruction on the enemy.

On one side of it was the terrible piece of ground in dispute, where Mr. Boythorn maintained a sentry day and night, whose duty in case of aggression was to ring a large bell, and unchain a great bull-dog from his kennel to deal destruction on the enemy.


Not content with these precautions, Mr. Boythorn had himself composed and posted there, on painted boards to which his name was attached in large letters, the following solemn warnings: "Beware of the bull-dog.

Mr. Boythorn had himself painted boards with the following solemn warnings: "Beware of the bull-dog.


"Man-traps and spring-guns are set here at all times of the day and night.

"Man-traps and spring-guns are set here day and night.


That any person or persons audaciously presuming to trespass on this property will be punished with the utmost severity of private chastisement and prosecuted with the utmost rigour of the law.

Any person trespassing on this property will be punished with the utmost severity and rigour of the law.


These he showed us from the drawing-room window, while his bird was hopping about his head, and he laughed, "Ha ha ha ha!

Mr. Boythorn laughed as he showed us all these.


to that extent as he pointed them out that I really thought he would have hurt himself.


"But this is taking a good deal of trouble," said Mr. Skimpole in his light way, "when you are not in earnest after all."


returned Mr. Boythorn with unspeakable warmth.


If I could have hoped to train him, I would have bought a lion instead of that dog and would have turned him loose upon the first intolerable robber who should dare to make an encroachment on my rights.


Let Sir Leicester Dedlock consent to come out and decide this question by single combat, and I will meet him with any weapon known to mankind in any age or country.

"Let Sir Leicester Dedlock consent to decide this question by single combat," he said, "and I will meet him with any weapon known to mankind!"


On the Sunday morning we all set forth to walk to the little church in the park.

On the Sunday morning we all walked to the little church in the park.


Entering the park, almost immediately by the disputed ground, we pursued a pleasant footpath winding among the verdant turf and the beautiful trees until it brought us to the church-porch.

Entering the park near the disputed ground, we followed a pleasant footpath winding among trees until it brought us to the church-porch.


The congregation was extremely small and quite a rustic one with the exception of a large muster of servants from the house, some of whom were already in their seats, while others were yet dropping in.

The congregation was extremely small and quite rustic, apart from a large muster of servants from the house.


There were some stately footmen, and there was a perfect picture of an old coachman, who looked as if he were the official representative of all the pomps and vanities that had ever been put into his coach.

There were some stately footmen, and a perfect picture of an old coachman.


There was a very pretty show of young women, and above them, the handsome old face and fine responsible portly figure of the housekeeper towered pre-eminent.

There was a very pretty show of young women, and above them, the handsome old face and fine portly figure of the housekeeper towered pre-eminent.


The pretty girl of whom Mr. Boythorn had told us was close by her. She was so very pretty that I might have known her by her beauty even if I had not seen how blushingly conscious she was of the eyes of the young fisherman, whom I discovered not far off.

The pretty girl of whom Mr. Boythorn had told us was close by her, blushingly conscious of the eyes of the young fisherman, whom I discovered not far off.


One face, and not an agreeable one, though it was handsome, seemed maliciously watchful of this pretty girl, and indeed of every one and everything there.

One handsome face, though not an agreeable one, seemed maliciously watchful of this pretty girl, and indeed of everyone there.


As the bell was yet ringing and the great people were not yet come, I had leisure to glance over the church, which smelt as earthy as a grave, and to think what a shady, ancient, solemn little church it was.

As the bell was still ringing, I had leisure to glance over the church, and to think what an ancient, solemn little church it was.


The windows, heavily shaded by trees, admitted a subdued light that made the faces around me pale, and darkened the old brasses in the pavement and the time and damp-worn monuments, and rendered the sunshine in the little porch, where a monotonous ringer was working at the bell, inestimably bright.

The windows, heavily shaded by trees, admitted a subdued light that darkened the old monuments around me, and made the sunshine in the little porch seem very bright.


But a stir in that direction, a gathering of reverential awe in the rustic faces, and a blandly ferocious assumption on the part of Mr. Boythorn of being resolutely unconscious of somebody's existence forewarned me that the great people were come and that the service was going to begin.

A stir in that direction, and the reverential awe in the rustic faces, warned me that the great people were arriving and that the service was going to begin.


"'Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord, for in thy sight--'"

" 'Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord, for in thy sight-' "


Shall I ever forget the rapid beating at my heart, occasioned by the look I met as I stood up!

Shall I ever forget the rapid beating at my heart, caused by the look I met as I stood up!


Shall I ever forget the manner in which those handsome proud eyes seemed to spring out of their languor and to hold mine!


It was only a moment before I cast mine down--released again, if I may say so--on my book; but I knew the beautiful face quite well in that short space of time.

It was only a moment before I cast mine down on my book; but I knew the beautiful face quite well in that short space of time.


And, very strangely, there was something quickened within me, associated with the lonely days at my godmother's; yes, away even to the days when I had stood on tiptoe to dress myself at my little glass after dressing my doll.

And, very strangely, there was something quickened within me, associated with the lonely days at my godmother's; yes, even to the days when I had stood on tiptoe to dress myself at my little glass after dressing my doll.


And this, although I had never seen this lady's face before in all my life--I was quite sure of it--absolutely certain.

Yet I had never seen this lady's face before in all my life - I was quite sure of it.


It was easy to know that the ceremonious, gouty, grey-haired gentleman, the only other occupant of the great pew, was Sir Leicester Dedlock, and that the lady was Lady Dedlock.

It was easy to know that the ceremonious, gouty old gentleman, the only other person in the great pew, was Sir Leicester Dedlock, and that the lady was Lady Dedlock.


But why her face should be, in a confused way, like a broken glass to me, in which I saw scraps of old remembrances, and why I should be so fluttered and troubled (for I was still) by having casually met her eyes, I could not think.

But why her face should be like a broken glass to me, in which I saw confused scraps of old remembrances, and why I should be so fluttered and troubled by having casually met her eyes, I could not think.


I felt it to be an unmeaning weakness in me and tried to overcome it by attending to the words I heard.

I tried to overcome this weakness by attending to the words I heard.


Then, very strangely, I seemed to hear them, not in the reader's voice, but in the well-remembered voice of my godmother.

Strangely, I seemed to hear them, not in the reader's voice, but in the well-remembered voice of my godmother.


This made me think, did Lady Dedlock's face accidentally resemble my godmother's?


It might be that it did, a little; but the expression was so different, and the stern decision which had worn into my godmother's face, like weather into rocks, was so completely wanting in the face before me that it could not be that resemblance which had struck me.

Maybe it did, a little; but the expression was quite different, without the stern decision of my godmother's face.


Neither did I know the loftiness and haughtiness of Lady Dedlock's face, at all, in any one.

The loftiness and haughtiness of Lady Dedlock's face was unlike anyone I knew.


And yet I--I, little Esther Summerson, the child who lived a life apart and on whose birthday there was no rejoicing--seemed to arise before my own eyes, evoked out of the past by some power in this fashionable lady, whom I not only entertained no fancy that I had ever seen, but whom I perfectly well knew I had never seen until that hour.

And yet I - little Esther Summerson, the child who lived a life apart and on whose birthday there was no rejoicing - seemed to arise before my own eyes, evoked out of the past by some power in this fashionable lady, whom I had never seen until that hour.


It made me tremble so to be thrown into this unaccountable agitation that I was conscious of being distressed even by the observation of the French maid, though I knew she had been looking watchfully here, and there, and everywhere, from the moment of her coming into the church.

Trembling in this unaccountable agitation, I was conscious of being distressed even by the observation of the French maid, though I knew she had been looking watchfully here, and there, and everywhere.


By degrees, though very slowly, I at last overcame my strange emotion.

Very slowly, I at last overcame my strange emotion.


After a long time, I looked towards Lady Dedlock again. It was while they were preparing to sing, before the sermon.

After a long time, I looked towards Lady Dedlock again, before the sermon.


She took no heed of me, and the beating at my heart was gone.


Neither did it revive for more than a few moments when she once or twice afterwards glanced at Ada or at me through her glass.

Neither did it revive for more than a few moments when she once or twice afterwards glanced at Ada or at me.


The service being concluded, Sir Leicester gave his arm with much taste and gallantry to Lady Dedlock--though he was obliged to walk by the help of a thick stick--and escorted her out of church to the pony carriage in which they had come.

After the service, Sir Leicester gave his arm with much gallantry to Lady Dedlock - though he could only walk with a stick - and escorted her out to their carriage.


The servants then dispersed, and so did the congregation, whom Sir Leicester had contemplated all along (Mr. Skimpole said to Mr. Boythorn's infinite delight) as if he were a considerable landed proprietor in heaven.

The servants then dispersed, and so did the congregation, whom Sir Leicester had contemplated (Mr. Skimpole, said to Mr. Boythorn's delight) as if he were a landed proprietor in heaven.


So did his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather!"


"Do you know," pursued Mr. Skimpole very unexpectedly to Mr. Boythorn, "it's agreeable to me to see a man of that sort."

"Do you know," pursued Mr. Skimpole unexpectedly, "it's agreeable to me to see a man of that sort."


"Say that he wants to patronize me," pursued Mr. Skimpole.


"I do," said Mr. Boythorn with great vigour.


returned Mr. Skimpole in his easy light vein.


Here am I, content to receive things childishly as they fall out, and I never take trouble!


I come down here, for instance, and I find a mighty potentate exacting homage.


I say 'Mighty potentate, here IS my homage!

I say 'Mighty potentate, here is my homage!


It's easier to give it than to withhold it.


If you have anything of an agreeable nature to show me, I shall be happy to see it; if you have anything of an agreeable nature to give me, I shall be happy to accept it.'


Mighty potentate replies in effect, 'This is a sensible fellow.


I find him accord with my digestion and my bilious system.


He doesn't impose upon me the necessity of rolling myself up like a hedgehog with my points outward.


I expand, I open, I turn my silver lining outward like Milton's cloud, and it's more agreeable to both of us.'


That's my view of such things, speaking as a child!"


"But suppose you went down somewhere else to-morrow," said Mr. Boythorn, "where there was the opposite of that fellow--or of this fellow.

"But suppose you went somewhere else tomorrow," said Mr. Boythorn, "where there was the opposite of that fellow.


said Mr. Skimpole with an appearance of the utmost simplicity and candour.


I should say, 'My esteemed Boythorn'--to make you the personification of our imaginary friend--'my esteemed Boythorn, you object to the mighty potentate?

I should say, 'My esteemed Boythorn' - to make you the personification of our imaginary friend - 'do you object to the mighty potentate?


So do I. I take it that my business in the social system is to be agreeable; I take it that everybody's business in the social system is to be agreeable.

So do I. Everybody's business in the social system is to be agreeable.


Now, excellent Boythorn, let us go to dinner!'"


"But excellent Boythorn might say," returned our host, swelling and growing very red, "I'll be--"

"But excellent Boythorn might say," returned our host, swelling and growing very red, "I'll be-"


cried Mr. Boythorn in a violent burst and stopping to strike his stick upon the ground.

cried Mr. Boythorn in a violent burst, striking his stick upon the ground.


"And he would probably add, 'Is there such a thing as principle, Mr. Harold Skimpole?'"


"To which Harold Skimpole would reply, you know," he returned in his gayest manner and with his most ingenuous smile, "'Upon my life I have not the least idea!

"To which Harold Skimpole would reply, you know," he returned in his gayest manner, " 'Upon my life I have not the least idea!


I don't know what it is you call by that name, or where it is, or who possesses it.

I don't know what it is you call by that name.


If you possess it and find it comfortable, I am quite delighted and congratulate you heartily.


But I know nothing about it, I assure you; for I am a mere child, and I lay no claim to it, and I don't want it!'

But I know nothing about it, I assure you; for I am a mere child, and I lay no claim to it!'


So, you see, excellent Boythorn and I would go to dinner after all!"


This was one of many little dialogues between them which I always expected to end, and which I dare say would have ended under other circumstances, in some violent explosion on the part of our host.

This was one of many little dialogues between them which I always expected to end in some violent explosion on the part of our host.


But he had so high a sense of his hospitable and responsible position as our entertainer, and my guardian laughed so sincerely at and with Mr. Skimpole, as a child who blew bubbles and broke them all day long, that matters never went beyond this point.

But he had so high a sense of his hospitable duty, and my guardian laughed so sincerely at and with Mr. Skimpole, that matters never went beyond this point.


Mr. Skimpole, who always seemed quite unconscious of having been on delicate ground, then betook himself to beginning some sketch in the park which he never finished, or to playing fragments of airs on the piano, or to singing scraps of songs, or to lying down on his back under a tree and looking at the sky--which he couldn't help thinking, he said, was what he was meant for; it suited him so exactly.

Mr. Skimpole, who always seemed quite unconscious of having been on delicate ground, would then begin some sketch in the park which he never finished, or play fragments on the piano, or lie down on his back under a tree looking at the sky, an occupation which he said suited him exactly.


"Enterprise and effort," he would say to us (on his back), "are delightful to me.


I lie in a shady place like this and think of adventurous spirits going to the North Pole or penetrating to the heart of the Torrid Zone with admiration.

I lie in a shady place like this and think of adventurous spirits going to the North Pole or the tropics with admiration.


Mercenary creatures ask, 'What is the use of a man's going to the North Pole?


I can't say; but, for anything I CAN say, he may go for the purpose--though he don't know it--of employing my thoughts as I lie here.


Take the case of the slaves on American plantations.


I dare say they are worked hard, I dare say they don't altogether like it. I dare say theirs is an unpleasant experience on the whole; but they people the landscape for me, they give it a poetry for me, and perhaps that is one of the pleasanter objects of their existence.

I dare say they are worked hard, I dare say they don't altogether like it; but they people the landscape for me, they give it a poetry for me, and perhaps that is one of the pleasanter objects of their existence.


I am very sensible of it, if it be, and I shouldn't wonder if it were!"


I always wondered on these occasions whether he ever thought of Mrs. Skimpole and the children, and in what point of view they presented themselves to his cosmopolitan mind.

I always wondered on these occasions whether he ever thought of Mrs. Skimpole and the children.


So far as I could understand, they rarely presented themselves at all.

So far as I could understand, they were rarely present in his mind at all.


The week had gone round to the Saturday following that beating of my heart in the church; and every day had been so bright and blue that to ramble in the woods, and to see the light striking down among the transparent leaves and sparkling in the beautiful interlacings of the shadows of the trees, while the birds poured out their songs and the air was drowsy with the hum of insects, had been most delightful.

A week passed; and every day had been so bright and blue that to ramble in the woods, and to see the light striking down among the leaves and sparkling in the beautiful interlacings of the shadows of the trees, while the birds poured out their songs, had been most delightful.


We had one favourite spot, deep in moss and last year's leaves, where there were some felled trees from which the bark was all stripped off.

We had one favourite spot, deep in moss and last year's leaves, where there were some felled trees.


Seated among these, we looked through a green vista supported by thousands of natural columns, the whitened stems of trees, upon a distant prospect made so radiant by its contrast with the shade in which we sat and made so precious by the arched perspective through which we saw it that it was like a glimpse of the better land.

Seated among these, we looked through a green vista supported by thousands of natural columns.


Upon the Saturday we sat here, Mr. Jarndyce, Ada, and I, until we heard thunder muttering in the distance and felt the large raindrops rattle through the leaves.

On Saturday we sat here, Mr. Jarndyce, Ada, and I, until we heard thunder muttering in the distance and felt large raindrops rattle through the leaves.


The weather had been all the week extremely sultry, but the storm broke so suddenly--upon us, at least, in that sheltered spot--that before we reached the outskirts of the wood the thunder and lightning were frequent and the rain came plunging through the leaves as if every drop were a great leaden bead.

The storm broke so suddenly that before we reached the outskirts of the wood the thunder and lightning were frequent, and the rain came plunging through the leaves like great leaden beads.


As it was not a time for standing among trees, we ran out of the wood, and up and down the moss-grown steps which crossed the plantation-fence like two broad-staved ladders placed back to back, and made for a keeper's lodge which was close at hand.

We ran out of the wood, and made for a keeper's lodge which was close at hand.


We had often noticed the dark beauty of this lodge standing in a deep twilight of trees, and how the ivy clustered over it, and how there was a steep hollow near, where we had once seen the keeper's dog dive down into the fern as if it were water.

We had often noticed the dark beauty of this lodge standing in a deep twilight of trees, with ivy clustered over it.


The lodge was so dark within, now the sky was overcast, that we only clearly saw the man who came to the door when we took shelter there and put two chairs for Ada and me.

A man came to the door and set out two chairs for Ada and me.


The lattice-windows were all thrown open, and we sat just within the doorway watching the storm.

The lodge was dark within; but the lattice-windows were all thrown open, and we sat just inside the doorway watching the storm.


It was grand to see how the wind awoke, and bent the trees, and drove the rain before it like a cloud of smoke; and to hear the solemn thunder and to see the lightning; and while thinking with awe of the tremendous powers by which our little lives are encompassed, to consider how beneficent they are and how upon the smallest flower and leaf there was already a freshness poured from all this seeming rage which seemed to make creation new again.

It was grand to see how the wind awoke, and bent the trees, and drove the rain before it like a cloud of smoke; and to hear the solemn thunder and to see the lightning; while thinking with awe of the tremendous powers by which our little lives are encompassed, yet which already brought a freshness from all this rage which seemed to make creation new again.


"Is it not dangerous to sit in so exposed a place?"


Ada said it to me, but I had not spoken.


The beating of my heart came back again.


I had never heard the voice, as I had never seen the face, but it affected me in the same strange way.


Again, in a moment, there arose before my mind innumerable pictures of myself.


Lady Dedlock had taken shelter in the lodge before our arrival there and had come out of the gloom within.

Lady Dedlock had taken shelter in the lodge before our arrival and had come out of the gloom within.


She stood behind my chair with her hand upon it. I saw her with her hand close to my shoulder when I turned my head.

She stood behind my chair with her hand upon it, close to my shoulder.


"I believe," said Lady Dedlock to my guardian, "I have the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Jarndyce."


"Your remembrance does me more honour than I had supposed it would, Lady Dedlock," he returned.


I am sorry that any local disputes of Sir Leicester's--they are not of his seeking, however, I believe--should render it a matter of some absurd difficulty to show you any attention here."

I am sorry that any local disputes of Sir Leicester's should make it difficult to show you attention here."


"I am aware of the circumstances," returned my guardian with a smile, "and am sufficiently obliged."

"I am aware of the circumstances," returned my guardian with a smile, "and I am obliged to you."


She had given him her hand in an indifferent way that seemed habitual to her and spoke in a correspondingly indifferent manner, though in a very pleasant voice.


She was as graceful as she was beautiful, perfectly self-possessed, and had the air, I thought, of being able to attract and interest any one if she had thought it worth her while.

She was as graceful as she was beautiful, perfectly self-possessed, and had the air, I thought, of being able to attract and interest anyone if she thought it worth her while.


The keeper had brought her a chair on which she sat in the middle of the porch between us.

The keeper brought her a chair, on which she sat between us.


"Is the young gentleman disposed of whom you wrote to Sir Leicester about and whose wishes Sir Leicester was sorry not to have it in his power to advance in any way?"

"Is the young gentleman settled, of whom you wrote to Sir Leicester?"


she said over her shoulder to my guardian.


She seemed to respect him and even to wish to conciliate him.


There was something very winning in her haughty manner, and it became more familiar--I was going to say more easy, but that could hardly be--as she spoke to him over her shoulder.

There was something very winning in her haughty manner, as she spoke to him over her shoulder.


"I presume this is your other ward, Miss Clare?"

"I presume this is your other ward in Chancery, Miss Clare?"


"You will lose the disinterested part of your Don Quixote character," said Lady Dedlock to Mr. Jarndyce over her shoulder again, "if you only redress the wrongs of beauty like this.


But present me," and she turned full upon me, "to this young lady too!"

"But present me," and Lady Dedlock turned full upon me, "to this young lady too!"


"Miss Summerson really is my ward," said Mr. Jarndyce.


"I am responsible to no Lord Chancellor in her case."


"Has Miss Summerson lost both her parents?"


"She is very fortunate in her guardian."


Lady Dedlock looked at me, and I looked at her and said I was indeed.


All at once she turned from me with a hasty air, almost expressive of displeasure or dislike, and spoke to him over her shoulder again.


"Ages have passed since we were in the habit of meeting, Mr. Jarndyce."


At least I thought it was a long time, until I saw you last Sunday," he returned.


Even you are a courtier, or think it necessary to become one to me!"


"I have achieved that reputation, I suppose."


"You have achieved so much, Lady Dedlock," said my guardian, "that you pay some little penalty, I dare say.


With her air of superiority, and power, and fascination, and I know not what, she seemed to regard Ada and me as little more than children.

With her air of superiority, and power, and fascination, she seemed to regard Ada and me as little more than children.


So, as she slightly laughed and afterwards sat looking at the rain, she was as self-possessed and as free to occupy herself with her own thoughts as if she had been alone.

She laughed and sat looking at the rain, self-possessed and occupied with her thoughts.


"I think you knew my sister when we were abroad together better than you know me?"


"Yes, we happened to meet oftener," he returned.


"We went our several ways," said Lady Dedlock, "and had little in common even before we agreed to differ.


It is to be regretted, I suppose, but it could not be helped."


Lady Dedlock again sat looking at the rain.


The storm soon began to pass upon its way.


The shower greatly abated, the lightning ceased, the thunder rolled among the distant hills, and the sun began to glisten on the wet leaves and the falling rain.

The shower abated, the lightning ceased; the thunder rolled among the distant hills, and the sun began to glisten on the wet leaves.


As we sat there, silently, we saw a little pony phaeton coming towards us at a merry pace.

As we sat there silently, we saw a little pony phaeton coming towards us at a merry pace.


"The messenger is coming back, my Lady," said the keeper, "with the carriage."


As it drove up, we saw that there were two people inside.


There alighted from it, with some cloaks and wrappers, first the Frenchwoman whom I had seen in church, and secondly the pretty girl, the Frenchwoman with a defiant confidence, the pretty girl confused and hesitating.

There alighted from it, with some cloaks and wrappers, first the Frenchwoman whom I had seen in church, and secondly the pretty girl. The Frenchwoman stepped out with a defiant confidence, the pretty girl confused and hesitating.


"I am your maid, my Lady, at the present," said the Frenchwoman.


"I was afraid you might mean me, my Lady," said the pretty girl.


"I did mean you, child," replied her mistress calmly.


She slightly stooped her shoulders to receive it, and the pretty girl lightly dropped it in its place.

She slightly stooped her shoulders to receive it, and the pretty girl lightly dropped it in place.


The Frenchwoman stood unnoticed, looking on with her lips very tightly set.

The Frenchwoman stood looking on with her lips very tightly set.


"I am sorry," said Lady Dedlock to Mr. Jarndyce, "that we are not likely to renew our former acquaintance.


You will allow me to send the carriage back for your two wards."


But as he would on no account accept this offer, she took a graceful leave of Ada--none of me--and put her hand upon his proffered arm, and got into the carriage, which was a little, low, park carriage with a hood.

But as he declined this offer, she took a graceful leave of Ada - none of me - put her hand upon his proffered arm, and got into the carriage.


"Come in, child," she said to the pretty girl; "I shall want you. Go on!"

"Come in, child," she said to the pretty girl; "Go on!"


The carriage rolled away, and the Frenchwoman, with the wrappers she had brought hanging over her arm, remained standing where she had alighted.

The carriage rolled away, and the Frenchwoman, with the wrappers she had brought hanging over her arm, remained standing there.


I suppose there is nothing pride can so little bear with as pride itself, and that she was punished for her imperious manner.

I suppose there is nothing pride can so little bear as another's pride, and that she was punished for her imperious manner.


Her retaliation was the most singular I could have imagined.


She remained perfectly still until the carriage had turned into the drive, and then, without the least discomposure of countenance, slipped off her shoes, left them on the ground, and walked deliberately in the same direction through the wettest of the wet grass.

She remained perfectly still until the carriage had turned into the drive, and then, without the least discomposure, slipped off her shoes, left them on the ground, and walked deliberately in the same direction through wet grass.


said the keeper, who, with his wife, was looking after her.


She has as good a head-piece as the best.


But she's mortal high and passionate--powerful high and passionate; and what with having notice to leave, and having others put above her, she don't take kindly to it."

"But Hortense is mortal high and passionate; and what with having notice to leave, and having others put above her, she don't take kindly to it."


"But why should she walk shoeless through all that water?"


"Why, indeed, sir, unless it is to cool her down!"


"Or unless she fancies it's blood," said the woman.


"She'd as soon walk through that as anything else, I think, when her own's up!"

"She'd as soon walk through that as anything else, I think, when her own blood's up!"


We passed not far from the house a few minutes afterwards.


Peaceful as it had looked when we first saw it, it looked even more so now, with a diamond spray glittering all about it, a light wind blowing, the birds no longer hushed but singing strongly, everything refreshed by the late rain, and the little carriage shining at the doorway like a fairy carriage made of silver.

Peaceful as it had looked when we first saw it, it looked even more so now, with a diamond spray glittering all about it, everything refreshed by the late rain, and the little carriage shining at the doorway like a fairy carriage made of silver.


Still, very steadfastly and quietly walking towards it, a peaceful figure too in the landscape, went Mademoiselle Hortense, shoeless, through the wet grass.

Very steadfastly and quietly walking towards it, went Mademoiselle Hortense, shoeless, through the wet grass.


My Lady Dedlock is restless, very restless.


The astonished fashionable intelligence hardly knows where to have her.


To-day she is at Chesney Wold; yesterday she was at her house in town; to-morrow she may be abroad, for anything the fashionable intelligence can with confidence predict.

Today she is at Chesney Wold; yesterday she was at her house in town; tomorrow she may be abroad, for anything anyone can predict.


Even Sir Leicester's gallantry has some trouble to keep pace with her. It would have more but that his other faithful ally, for better and for worse--the gout--darts into the old oak bed-chamber at Chesney Wold and grips him by both legs.

Even Sir Leicester's gallantry cannot keep pace with her, for the gout has gripped him by both legs.


Sir Leicester receives the gout as a troublesome demon, but still a demon of the patrician order.

Sir Leicester views the gout as a troublesome but aristocratic demon.


All the Dedlocks, in the direct male line, through a course of time during and beyond which the memory of man goeth not to the contrary, have had the gout.

All the Dedlocks, in the male line, have had the gout.


Other men's fathers may have died of the rheumatism or may have taken base contagion from the tainted blood of the sick vulgar, but the Dedlock family have communicated something exclusive even to the levelling process of dying by dying of their own family gout.

Other men's fathers may have died of vulgar complaints, but the Dedlock family have a higher class of illness.


It has come down through the illustrious line like the plate, or the pictures, or the place in Lincolnshire.

It has come down through the illustrious line like the silver-plate, or the place in Lincolnshire.


Sir Leicester is perhaps not wholly without an impression, though he has never resolved it into words, that the angel of death in the discharge of his necessary duties may observe to the shades of the aristocracy, "My lords and gentlemen, I have the honour to present to you another Dedlock certified to have arrived per the family gout."


Hence Sir Leicester yields up his family legs to the family disorder as if he held his name and fortune on that feudal tenure.

So Sir Leicester yields up his family legs to the family disorder as his inheritance.


He feels that for a Dedlock to be laid upon his back and spasmodically twitched and stabbed in his extremities is a liberty taken somewhere, but he thinks, "We have all yielded to this; it belongs to us; it has for some hundreds of years been understood that we are not to make the vaults in the park interesting on more ignoble terms; and I submit myself to the compromise."

He feels that for a Dedlock to be laid upon his back and spasmodically stabbed in his extremities is a liberty taken somewhere, but he thinks, "We have all yielded to this; it belongs to us; and I submit myself to it."


And a goodly show he makes, lying in a flush of crimson and gold in the midst of the great drawing-room before his favourite picture of my Lady, with broad strips of sunlight shining in, down the long perspective, through the long line of windows, and alternating with soft reliefs of shadow.

And a good picture he makes, lying in a flush of crimson and gold in the great drawing-room before his favourite picture of my Lady, with broad strips of sunlight shining in through the long line of windows.


Outside, the stately oaks, rooted for ages in the green ground which has never known ploughshare, but was still a chase when kings rode to battle with sword and shield and rode a-hunting with bow and arrow, bear witness to his greatness.

Outside, the stately oaks, rooted in the green ground which has never known the plough, but has been a hunting-estate for centuries, bear witness to his greatness.


Inside, his forefathers, looking on him from the walls, say, "Each of us was a passing reality here and left this coloured shadow of himself and melted into remembrance as dreamy as the distant voices of the rooks now lulling you to rest," and hear their testimony to his greatness too.

Inside, his forefathers, looking on him from the walls, say, "Each of us was a passing reality here and left this coloured shadow of himself."


And woe to Boythorn or other daring wight who shall presumptuously contest an inch with him!


My Lady is at present represented, near Sir Leicester, by her portrait.

My Lady is at present represented by her portrait.


She has flitted away to town, with no intention of remaining there, and will soon flit hither again, to the confusion of the fashionable intelligence.

She has flitted away to town, and will soon flit back here again, to the confusion of the fashionable world.


The house in town is not prepared for her reception.


Only one Mercury in powder gapes disconsolate at the hall-window; and he mentioned last night to another Mercury of his acquaintance, also accustomed to good society, that if that sort of thing was to last--which it couldn't, for a man of his spirits couldn't bear it, and a man of his figure couldn't be expected to bear it--there would be no resource for him, upon his honour, but to cut his throat!

Only one powdered footman gapes disconsolate at the hall-window.


What connexion can there be between the place in Lincolnshire, the house in town, the Mercury in powder, and the whereabout of Jo the outlaw with the broom, who had that distant ray of light upon him when he swept the churchyard-step?

What connexion can there be between the place in Lincolnshire, the house in town, the footman, and the whereabouts of Jo the outlaw with the broom, who swept the churchyard-step?


What connexion can there have been between many people in the innumerable histories of this world who from opposite sides of great gulfs have, nevertheless, been very curiously brought together!


Jo sweeps his crossing all day long, unconscious of the link, if any link there be.


He sums up his mental condition when asked a question by replying that he "don't know nothink."


He knows that it's hard to keep the mud off the crossing in dirty weather, and harder still to live by doing it.


Nobody taught him even that much; he found it out.


Jo lives--that is to say, Jo has not yet died--in a ruinous place known to the like of him by the name of Tom-all-Alone's.

Jo lives - that is to say, Jo has not yet died - in a ruinous place known as Tom-all-Alone's.


It is a black, dilapidated street, avoided by all decent people, where the crazy houses were seized upon, when their decay was far advanced, by some bold vagrants who after establishing their own possession took to letting them out in lodgings.

It is a black, dilapidated street, avoided by decent people, where the crazy, decaying houses were seized upon by some bold vagrants who then let them out as lodgings.


Now, these tumbling tenements contain, by night, a swarm of misery.


As on the ruined human wretch vermin parasites appear, so these ruined shelters have bred a crowd of foul existence that crawls in and out of gaps in walls and boards; and coils itself to sleep, in maggot numbers, where the rain drips in; and comes and goes, fetching and carrying fever and sowing more evil in its every footprint than Lord Coodle, and Sir Thomas Doodle, and the Duke of Foodle, and all the fine gentlemen in office, down to Zoodle, shall set right in five hundred years--though born expressly to do it.

Like parasites on a ruined human body, a crowd of foul existence crawls in and out of gaps in walls; and coils itself to sleep, in maggot numbers, where the rain drips in; and comes and goes, fetching and carrying fever and evil in every footprint.


Twice lately there has been a crash and a cloud of dust, like the springing of a mine, in Tom-all-Alone's; and each time a house has fallen.

Twice lately there has been a crash and a cloud of dust in Tom-all-Alone's; each time a house has fallen.


These accidents have made a paragraph in the newspapers and have filled a bed or two in the nearest hospital.


The gaps remain, and there are not unpopular lodgings among the rubbish.


As several more houses are nearly ready to go, the next crash in Tom-all-Alone's may be expected to be a good one.

As several more houses are nearly ready to go, the next crash in Tom-all-Alone's is expected to be a good one.


This desirable property is in Chancery, of course.


It would be an insult to the discernment of any man with half an eye to tell him so.


Whether "Tom" is the popular representative of the original plaintiff or defendant in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, or whether Tom lived here when the suit had laid the street waste, all alone, until other settlers came to join him, or whether the traditional title is a comprehensive name for a retreat cut off from honest company and put out of the pale of hope, perhaps nobody knows.

Whether "Tom" represents the original plaintiff in Jarndyce and Jarndyce, or whether Tom lived here when the suit had laid the street waste, or whether the title is a traditional name, perhaps nobody knows.


"For I don't," says Jo, "I don't know nothink."


It must be a strange state to be like Jo!


To shuffle through the streets, unfamiliar with the shapes, and in utter darkness as to the meaning, of those mysterious symbols, so abundant over the shops, and at the corners of streets, and on the doors, and in the windows!

To shuffle through the streets, in utter darkness as to the meaning of those mysterious symbols over the shops, and in the windows!


To see people read, and to see people write, and to see the postmen deliver letters, and not to have the least idea of all that language--to be, to every scrap of it, stone blind and dumb!

To see people read and write, and not to have the least idea of all that language!


It must be very puzzling to see the good company going to the churches on Sundays, with their books in their hands, and to think (for perhaps Jo DOES think at odd times) what does it all mean, and if it means anything to anybody, how comes it that it means nothing to me?

It must be very puzzling to see the good company going to the churches on Sundays, with their books in their hands, and to think (for perhaps Jo does think at odd times) what does it all mean, and how comes it that it means nothing to me?


To be hustled, and jostled, and moved on; and really to feel that it would appear to be perfectly true that I have no business here, or there, or anywhere; and yet to be perplexed by the consideration that I AM here somehow, too, and everybody overlooked me until I became the creature that I am!

To be hustled, and jostled, and moved on; and yet to be perplexed by the feeling that I am here somehow, and everybody overlooked me until I became the creature that I am!


It must be a strange state, not merely to be told that I am scarcely human (as in the case of my offering myself for a witness), but to feel it of my own knowledge all my life!

It must be a strange state, not merely to be told that I am scarcely human, but to feel it!


To see the horses, dogs, and cattle go by me and to know that in ignorance I belong to them and not to the superior beings in my shape, whose delicacy I offend!

To see the horses, dogs, and cattle go by me and to know that in ignorance I belong with them and not to the superior beings whose delicacy I offend!


Jo's ideas of a criminal trial, or a judge, or a bishop, or a government, or that inestimable jewel to him (if he only knew it) the Constitution, should be strange!


His whole material and immaterial life is wonderfully strange; his death, the strangest thing of all.


Jo comes out of Tom-all-Alone's, meeting the tardy morning which is always late in getting down there, and munches his dirty bit of bread as he comes along.

Jo comes out of Tom-all-Alone's, munching his dirty bit of bread.


His way lying through many streets, and the houses not yet being open, he sits down to breakfast on the door-step of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts and gives it a brush when he has finished as an acknowledgment of the accommodation.

He sits down to breakfast on the door-step of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts and gives it a brush when he has finished, in return for the seat.


He admires the size of the edifice and wonders what it's all about.

He admires the size of the building and wonders what it's all about.


He has no idea, poor wretch, of the spiritual destitution of a coral reef in the Pacific or what it costs to look up the precious souls among the coco-nuts and bread-fruit.


He goes to his crossing and begins to lay it out for the day.


The town awakes; the great tee-totum is set up for its daily spin and whirl; all that unaccountable reading and writing, which has been suspended for a few hours, recommences.

The town awakes to its daily spin and whirl; all that unaccountable reading and writing recommences.


Jo and the other lower animals get on in the unintelligible mess as they can.


The blinded oxen, over-goaded, over-driven, never guided, run into wrong places and are beaten out, and plunge red-eyed and foaming at stone walls, and often sorely hurt the innocent, and often sorely hurt themselves.

The blinded oxen, over-goaded, over-driven, never guided, run into wrong places and are beaten out, and plunge red-eyed at stone walls, and often sorely hurt the innocent, and themselves.


Very like Jo and his order; very, very like!


So does a dog--a drover's dog, waiting for his master outside a butcher's shop, and evidently thinking about those sheep he has had upon his mind for some hours and is happily rid of.

So does a drover's dog, waiting for his master outside a butcher's shop.


He seems perplexed respecting three or four, can't remember where he left them, looks up and down the street as half expecting to see them astray, suddenly pricks up his ears and remembers all about it.


A thoroughly vagabond dog, accustomed to low company and public-houses; a terrific dog to sheep, ready at a whistle to scamper over their backs and tear out mouthfuls of their wool; but an educated, improved, developed dog who has been taught his duties and knows how to discharge them.

A vagabond dog, accustomed to low company and public-houses; a terrifying dog to sheep, ready at a whistle to tear out mouthfuls of their wool; but an educated, improved dog who has been taught his duties and knows how to do them.


He and Jo listen to the music, probably with much the same amount of animal satisfaction; likewise as to awakened association, aspiration, or regret, melancholy or joyful reference to things beyond the senses, they are probably upon a par.

He and Jo listen to the music, probably with much the same amount of animal satisfaction; as to awakened associations, they are probably upon a par.


But, otherwise, how far above the human listener is the brute!


Turn that dog's descendants wild, like Jo, and in a very few years they will so degenerate that they will lose even their bark--but not their bite.


The day changes as it wears itself away and becomes dark and drizzly.

The day changes as it wears itself away, and becomes dark and drizzly.


Jo fights it out at his crossing among the mud and wheels, the horses, whips, and umbrellas, and gets but a scanty sum to pay for the unsavoury shelter of Tom-all-Alone's.

Jo fights it out at his crossing among the mud and wheels, the horses, whips, and umbrellas, and gets only a scanty sum to pay for the unsavoury shelter of Tom-all-Alone's.


Twilight comes on; gas begins to start up in the shops; the lamplighter, with his ladder, runs along the margin of the pavement.

Twilight comes on; gas lamps are lit; the lamplighter, with his ladder, runs along the pavement.


A wretched evening is beginning to close in.


In his chambers Mr. Tulkinghorn sits meditating an application to the nearest magistrate to-morrow morning for a warrant.

In his chambers Mr. Tulkinghorn sits meditating an application to a magistrate tomorrow morning for a warrant.


Gridley, a disappointed suitor, has been here to-day and has been alarming.

Gridley has been here today and has been alarming.


We are not to be put in bodily fear, and that ill-conditioned fellow shall be held to bail again.


From the ceiling, foreshortened Allegory, in the person of one impossible Roman upside down, points with the arm of Samson (out of joint, and an odd one) obtrusively toward the window.


Why should Mr. Tulkinghorn, for such no reason, look out of window? Is the hand not always pointing there? So he does not look out of window.

Mr. Tulkinghorn does not look out of the window.


And if he did, what would it be to see a woman going by?


There are women enough in the world, Mr. Tulkinghorn thinks--too many; they are at the bottom of all that goes wrong in it, though, for the matter of that, they create business for lawyers.

There are too many women in the world, Mr. Tulkinghorn thinks; they are at the bottom of all that goes wrong in it, although they create business for lawyers.


What would it be to see a woman going by, even though she were going secretly?


But they are not all like the woman who now leaves him and his house behind, between whose plain dress and her refined manner there is something exceedingly inconsistent.

But they are not all like the woman who now leaves him and his house behind, whose plain dress does not match her refined manner.


She should be an upper servant by her attire, yet in her air and step, though both are hurried and assumed--as far as she can assume in the muddy streets, which she treads with an unaccustomed foot--she is a lady.

She should be an upper servant by her clothing, yet in her air and step - even in the muddy streets - she is a lady.


Her face is veiled, and still she sufficiently betrays herself to make more than one of those who pass her look round sharply.

Her face is veiled, and still she betrays herself enough to make some who pass her look round sharply.


Lady or servant, she has a purpose in her and can follow it. She never turns her head until she comes to the crossing where Jo plies with his broom.

Lady or servant, she has a purpose and never turns her head until she comes to the crossing where Jo plies with his broom.


Still, she does not turn her head until she has landed on the other side.

Still, she does not turn her head until she is on the other side.


Then she slightly beckons to him and says, "Come here!"


Jo follows her a pace or two into a quiet court.


"Are you the boy I've read of in the papers?"


"I don't know," says Jo, staring moodily at the veil, "nothink about no papers.


I don't know nothink about nothink at all."


"I don't know nothink about no--where I was took by the beadle, do you mean?"

"I don't know nothink about no - where I was took by the beadle, do you mean?"


"Was the boy's name at the inkwhich Jo?"


Did he look, when he was living, so very ill and poor?"


"No offence, my lady," says Jo with much humility, for even he has got at the suspicion of her being a lady.

"No offence, my lady," says Jo humbly, for even he suspects her of being a lady.


says Jo without the least idea of saying anything offensive, merely as a tribute of admiration.


Don't talk to me, and stand farther from me!


Can you show me all those places that were spoken of in the account I read?

Can you show me those places that were spoken of in the account I read?


The place he wrote for, the place he died at, the place where you were taken to, and the place where he was buried?"


Do you know the place where he was buried?"


Jo answers with a nod, having also nodded as each other place was mentioned.


"Go before me and show me all those dreadful places.

"Go ahead of me and show me all those dreadful places.


Stop opposite to each, and don't speak to me unless I speak to you.

Stop opposite each, and don't speak to me unless I speak to you.


Do what I want, and I will pay you well."


Jo attends closely while the words are being spoken; tells them off on his broom-handle, finding them rather hard; pauses to consider their meaning; considers it satisfactory; and nods his ragged head.

Jo attends closely to these words, finding them rather hard; pauses to consider their meaning; and nods his ragged head.


exclaims the servant, recoiling from him.


I will give you more money than you ever had in your life."


Jo screws up his mouth into a whistle, gives his ragged head a rub, takes his broom under his arm, and leads the way, passing deftly with his bare feet over the hard stones and through the mud and mire.

Jo screws up his mouth into a whistle, takes his broom under his arm, and leads the way in his bare feet over the hard stones and through the mud and mire.


"Him wot give him his writing and give me half a bull," says Jo in a whisper without looking over his shoulder.

"Him wot give him his writing," says Jo in a whisper without looking over his shoulder.


After a silence he is asked, "In which room?"


You can see the winder from this corner.


This is the public-ouse where I was took to."


It is a longer walk to the next, but Jo, relieved of his first suspicions, sticks to the forms imposed upon him and does not look round.

It is a longer walk to the next, but Jo does not look round.


By many devious ways, reeking with offence of many kinds, they come to the little tunnel of a court, and to the gas-lamp (lighted now), and to the iron gate.

By many devious and reeking ways, they come to the little tunnel of a court, and to the iron gate.


"He was put there," says Jo, holding to the bars and looking in.


Among them piles of bones, and close to that there kitchin winder! They put him wery nigh the top.

Among them piles of bones, wery nigh the top.


They was obliged to stamp upon it to git it in.


I could unkiver it for you with my broom if the gate was open. That's why they locks it, I s'pose," giving it a shake. "It's always locked.

I could unkiver it for you with my broom if the gate was open," giving it a shake, "but it's always locked.


The servant shrinks into a corner, into a corner of that hideous archway, with its deadly stains contaminating her dress; and putting out her two hands and passionately telling him to keep away from her, for he is loathsome to her, so remains for some moments.

The woman shrinks into a corner of that hideous archway, with its deadly stains contaminating her dress; and putting out her hands and passionately telling him to keep away from her, so remains for some moments.


Jo stands staring and is still staring when she recovers herself.

Jo stands staring until she recovers herself.


"Is this place of abomination consecrated ground?"


"I don't know nothink of consequential ground," says Jo, still staring.

"I don't know nothink of consequential ground," says Jo.


"I'm blest if I know," says Jo, staring more than ever; "but I shouldn't think it warn't.

"I'm blest if I know," says Jo, staring more than ever; "but I shouldn't think so.


repeats Jo, something troubled in his mind.


The servant takes as little heed of what he says as she seems to take of what she has said herself.

The servant takes little heed of what he says.


She draws off her glove to get some money from her purse.


Jo silently notices how white and small her hand is and what a jolly servant she must be to wear such sparkling rings.


She drops a piece of money in his hand without touching it, and shuddering as their hands approach.

She drops a piece of money in his hand without touching it, shuddering as their hands approach.


"Now," she adds, "show me the spot again!"


Jo thrusts the handle of his broom between the bars of the gate, and with his utmost power of elaboration, points it out.

Jo thrusts the handle of his broom between the bars of the gate, and points it out.


At length, looking aside to see if he has made himself intelligible, he finds that he is alone.

At length, looking around, he finds that he is alone.


His first proceeding is to hold the piece of money to the gas-light and to be overpowered at finding that it is yellow--gold.

He holds the piece of money to the gas-light and is overpowered at finding that it is yellow - gold.


His next is to give it a one-sided bite at the edge as a test of its quality. His next, to put it in his mouth for safety and to sweep the step and passage with great care.

He tests it with a bite, then puts it in his mouth for safety. He sweeps the step and passage with great care.


His job done, he sets off for Tom-all-Alone's, stopping in the light of innumerable gas-lamps to produce the piece of gold and give it another one-sided bite as a reassurance of its being genuine.

His job done, he sets off for Tom-all-Alone's, stopping in the light of many gas-lamps to produce the piece of gold and give it another look to reassure himself that it is genuine.


The Mercury in powder is in no want of society to-night, for my Lady goes to a grand dinner and three or four balls.

That evening my Lady Dedlock goes to a grand dinner and three or four balls.


Sir Leicester is fidgety down at Chesney Wold, with no better company than the gout; he complains to Mrs. Rouncewell that the rain makes such a monotonous pattering on the terrace that he can't read the paper even by the fireside in his own snug dressing-room.

Sir Leicester is fidgety down at Chesney Wold; he complains to Mrs. Rouncewell that the rain makes such a monotonous pattering on the terrace that he can't read the paper in his dressing-room.


"Sir Leicester would have done better to try the other side of the house, my dear," says Mrs. Rouncewell to Rosa.


"His dressing-room is on my Lady's side.


And in all these years I never heard the step upon the Ghost's Walk more distinct than it is to-night!"

And in all these years I never heard the step upon the Ghost's Walk more distinct than it is tonight!"


While we were in London Mr. Jarndyce was constantly beset by the crowd of excitable ladies and gentlemen whose proceedings had so much astonished us.

While we were in London Mr. Jarndyce was constantly beset by excitable ladies and gentlemen.


Mr. Quale, who presented himself soon after our arrival, was in all such excitements.

Mr. Quale, who presented himself soon after our arrival, was one of these.


He seemed to project those two shining knobs of temples of his into everything that went on and to brush his hair farther and farther back, until the very roots were almost ready to fly out of his head in inappeasable philanthropy.

He seemed to brush his hair farther and farther back, until the very roots were almost ready to fly out of his head in inappeasable philanthropy.


All objects were alike to him, but he was always particularly ready for anything in the way of a testimonial to any one.


His great power seemed to be his power of indiscriminate admiration.


He would sit for any length of time, with the utmost enjoyment, bathing his temples in the light of any order of luminary.


Having first seen him perfectly swallowed up in admiration of Mrs. Jellyby, I had supposed her to be the absorbing object of his devotion.

Having first seen him swallowed up in admiration of Mrs. Jellyby, I had supposed her to be the absorbing object of his devotion.


I soon discovered my mistake and found him to be train-bearer and organ-blower to a whole procession of people.

I soon discovered my mistake and found him to be train-bearer to a whole procession of people.


Mrs. Pardiggle came one day for a subscription to something, and with her, Mr. Quale. Whatever Mrs. Pardiggle said, Mr. Quale repeated to us; and just as he had drawn Mrs. Jellyby out, he drew Mrs. Pardiggle out.

Mrs. Pardiggle came one day for a subscription to something, and with her, Mr. Quale, who repeated everything she said to us.


Mrs. Pardiggle wrote a letter of introduction to my guardian in behalf of her eloquent friend Mr. Gusher.

Mrs. Pardiggle gave my guardian a letter of introduction on behalf of her eloquent friend Mr. Gusher.


With Mr. Gusher appeared Mr. Quale again.


Mr. Gusher, being a flabby gentleman with a moist surface and eyes so much too small for his moon of a face that they seemed to have been originally made for somebody else, was not at first sight prepossessing; yet he was scarcely seated before Mr. Quale asked Ada and me, not inaudibly, whether he was not a great creature--which he certainly was, flabbily speaking, though Mr. Quale meant in intellectual beauty--and whether we were not struck by his massive configuration of brow.

Mr. Gusher, a flabby gentleman with eyes much too small for his moon of a face, was not prepossessing; yet he was scarcely seated before Mr. Quale asked Ada and me whether he was not a great creature - which he certainly was, flabbily speaking, though Mr. Quale meant in intellect.


In short, we heard of a great many missions of various sorts among this set of people, but nothing respecting them was half so clear to us as that it was Mr. Quale's mission to be in ecstasies with everybody else's mission and that it was the most popular mission of all.

It became clear that it was Mr. Quale's mission to be in ecstasies with everybody else's mission.


Mr. Jarndyce had fallen into this company in the tenderness of his heart and his earnest desire to do all the good in his power; but that he felt it to be too often an unsatisfactory company, where benevolence took spasmodic forms, where charity was assumed as a regular uniform by loud professors and speculators in cheap notoriety, vehement in profession, restless and vain in action, servile in the last degree of meanness to the great, adulatory of one another, and intolerable to those who were anxious quietly to help the weak from failing rather than with a great deal of bluster and self-laudation to raise them up a little way when they were down, he plainly told us.

Mr. Jarndyce had fallen into this company in the tenderness of his heart and his earnest desire to do good; but he told us that he felt it to be too often an unsatisfactory company, where benevolence was spasmodic, and charity was assumed as a uniform by vain and vehement people, servile to the great, flattering to one another, and intolerable to those who were anxious to help the weak quietly, without bluster.


When a testimonial was originated to Mr. Quale by Mr. Gusher (who had already got one, originated by Mr. Quale), and when Mr. Gusher spoke for an hour and a half on the subject to a meeting, including two charity schools of small boys and girls, who were specially reminded of the widow's mite, and requested to come forward with halfpence and be acceptable sacrifices, I think the wind was in the east for three whole weeks.

When a testimonial was started for Mr. Quale by Mr. Gusher (who had already got one, started by Mr. Quale), and when Mr. Gusher spoke for an hour and a half on the subject to two charity schools of small boys and girls, who were requested to come forward with their halfpence, I think the wind was in the east for three whole weeks.


I mention this because I am coming to Mr. Skimpole again.


It seemed to me that his off-hand professions of childishness and carelessness were a great relief to my guardian, by contrast with such things, and were the more readily believed in since to find one perfectly undesigning and candid man among many opposites could not fail to give him pleasure.

It seemed to me that his off-hand professions of childishness and carelessness were a great relief to my guardian, by contrast with such things, and were the more readily believed.


I should be sorry to imply that Mr. Skimpole divined this and was politic; I really never understood him well enough to know.

I should be sorry to imply that Mr. Skimpole guessed this and acted accordingly; I really never understood him well enough to know.


What he was to my guardian, he certainly was to the rest of the world.


He had not been very well; and thus, though he lived in London, we had seen nothing of him until now. He appeared one morning in his usual agreeable way and as full of pleasant spirits as ever.

He had not been very well; but he now appeared one morning in his usual agreeable way and as full of pleasant spirits as ever.


He had been bilious, but rich men were often bilious, and therefore he had been persuading himself that he was a man of property.

He had been bilious, but rich men were often bilious, and therefore he had been persuading himself that he was rich.


So he was, in a certain point of view--in his expansive intentions.


He had been enriching his medical attendant in the most lavish manner.


He had always doubled, and sometimes quadrupled, his fees.


He had said to the doctor, "Now, my dear doctor, it is quite a delusion on your part to suppose that you attend me for nothing.

He had told his doctor, "Now, my dear doctor, it is quite a delusion on your part to suppose that you attend me for nothing.


I am overwhelming you with money--in my expansive intentions--if you only knew it!"

I am overwhelming you with money - in my expansive intentions - if you only knew it!"


And really (he said) he meant it to that degree that he thought it much the same as doing it.

And really (he said) he thought it much the same as doing it.


If he had had those bits of metal or thin paper to which mankind attached so much importance to put in the doctor's hand, he would have put them in the doctor's hand.

If he had had those bits of metal or thin paper to which mankind attached so much importance, he would have put them in the doctor's hand.


Not having them, he substituted the will for the deed.


If he really meant it--if his will were genuine and real, which it was--it appeared to him that it was the same as coin, and cancelled the obligation.

If his will were genuine, it appeared to him that it was the same as coin, and cancelled the obligation.


"It may be, partly, because I know nothing of the value of money," said Mr. Skimpole, "but I often feel this.


My butcher says to me he wants that little bill.

My butcher says to me he wants that little bill paying.


It's a part of the pleasant unconscious poetry of the man's nature that he always calls it a 'little' bill--to make the payment appear easy to both of us.


I reply to the butcher, 'My good friend, if you knew it, you are paid.

I reply to the butcher, 'My good friend, if you only knew it, you are paid.'"


You haven't had the trouble of coming to ask for the little bill.


"But, suppose," said my guardian, laughing, "he had meant the meat in the bill, instead of providing it?"

"But, suppose," said my guardian, laughing, "he had only meant the meat, instead of providing it?"


"My dear Jarndyce," he returned, "you surprise me. You take the butcher's position. A butcher I once dealt with occupied that very ground.

"My dear Jarndyce," he returned, "A butcher I once dealt with said that very thing.


Says he, 'Sir, why did you eat spring lamb at eighteen pence a pound?'


'Why did I eat spring lamb at eighteen pence a pound, my honest friend?'


said I, naturally amazed by the question.


'Well, sir,' says he, 'I wish I had meant the lamb as you mean the money!'


'My good fellow,' said I, 'pray let us reason like intellectual beings.

'My good fellow,' said I, 'pray let us be reasonable.


You HAD got the lamb, and I have NOT got the money.

You had got the lamb, and I have not got the money.


You couldn't really mean the lamb without sending it in, whereas I can, and do, really mean the money without paying it!'

You couldn't really mean the lamb without selling it, whereas I can, and do, really mean the money without paying it!'


"Yes, he took legal proceedings," said Mr. Skimpole.


"But in that he was influenced by passion, not by reason.


He writes me that you and the ladies have promised him a short visit at his bachelor-house in Lincolnshire."

He writes that you and the ladies have promised him a short visit at his bachelor-house in Lincolnshire."


"He is a great favourite with my girls," said Mr. Jarndyce, "and I have promised for them."


"Nature forgot to shade him off, I think," observed Mr. Skimpole to Ada and me.

"Nature forgot to shade Boythorn, I think," observed Mr. Skimpole to Ada and me.


"A little too boisterous - like the sea.


A little too vehement--like a bull who has made up his mind to consider every colour scarlet.


But I grant a sledge-hammering sort of merit in him!"


I should have been surprised if those two could have thought very highly of one another, Mr. Boythorn attaching so much importance to many things and Mr. Skimpole caring so little for anything.


Besides which, I had noticed Mr. Boythorn more than once on the point of breaking out into some strong opinion when Mr. Skimpole was referred to.


Of course I merely joined Ada in saying that we had been greatly pleased with him.

Of course I merely said that we had been greatly pleased with him.


"He has invited me," said Mr. Skimpole; "and if a child may trust himself in such hands--which the present child is encouraged to do, with the united tenderness of two angels to guard him--I shall go.

"He has invited me," said Mr. Skimpole; "and if a child may trust himself in such hands, I shall go.


He proposes to frank me down and back again.


Shillings perhaps? Or pounds? Or something of that sort?


By the by, Coavinses. You remember our friend Coavinses, Miss Summerson?"

By the by, you remember our friend Coavinses, Miss Summerson?"


He asked me as the subject arose in his mind, in his graceful, light-hearted manner and without the least embarrassment.

He asked me in his graceful, light-hearted manner, without the least embarrassment.


"Coavinses has been arrested by the Great Bailiff," said Mr. Skimpole.


"He will never do violence to the sunshine any more."


It quite shocked me to hear it, for I had already recalled with anything but a serious association the image of the man sitting on the sofa that night wiping his head.

It quite shocked me to hear it, as I recalled the man sitting on the sofa that night wiping his head.


"His successor informed me of it yesterday," said Mr. Skimpole.


"His successor is in my house now--in possession, I think he calls it.


He came yesterday, on my blue-eyed daughter's birthday.


I put it to him, 'This is unreasonable and inconvenient.


If you had a blue-eyed daughter you wouldn't like ME to come, uninvited, on HER birthday?'

If you had a blue-eyed daughter, you wouldn't like me to come, uninvited, on her birthday?'


Mr. Skimpole laughed at the pleasant absurdity and lightly touched the piano by which he was seated.


"And he told me," he said, playing little chords where I shall put full stops, "The Coavinses had left.

"And he told me," he said, playing little chords between each phrase, "that Coavinses had left.


Mr. Jarndyce got up, rubbing his head, and began to walk about.


Mr. Skimpole played the melody of one of Ada's favourite songs. Ada and I both looked at Mr. Jarndyce, thinking that we knew what was passing in his mind.
After walking and stopping, and several times leaving off rubbing his head, and beginning again, my guardian put his hand upon the keys and stopped Mr. Skimpole's playing.

Mr. Skimpole played the melody of one of Ada's favourite songs; but my guardian put his hand upon the keys and stopped him.


"I don't like this, Skimpole," he said thoughtfully.


Mr. Skimpole, who had quite forgotten the subject, looked up surprised.


"The man was necessary," pursued my guardian, walking backward and forward in the very short space between the piano and the end of the room and rubbing his hair up from the back of his head as if a high east wind had blown it into that form.

"The man was necessary," pursued my guardian.


"If we make such men necessary by our faults and follies, or by our want of worldly knowledge, or by our misfortunes, we must not revenge ourselves upon them.

"If we make such men necessary by our faults or our misfortunes, we must not revenge ourselves upon them.


One would like to know more about this."


cried Mr. Skimpole, at length perceiving what he meant.


A walk to Coavinses' headquarters, and you can know what you will."


Mr. Jarndyce nodded to us, who were only waiting for the signal.


We were quickly ready and went out. Mr. Skimpole went with us and quite enjoyed the expedition.

We were quickly ready and went out with Mr. Skimpole, who quite enjoyed the expedition.


It was so new and so refreshing, he said, for him to want Coavinses instead of Coavinses wanting him!


He took us, first, to Cursitor Street, Chancery Lane, where there was a house with barred windows, which he called Coavinses' Castle.


On our going into the entry and ringing a bell, a very hideous boy came out of a sort of office and looked at us over a spiked wicket.

On our ringing a bell, a hideous boy came out of an office and looked at us over a spiked gate.


said the boy, fitting two of the spikes into his chin.


"There was a follower, or an officer, or something, here," said Mr. Jarndyce, "who is dead."

"There was an officer, or something, here," said Mr. Jarndyce, "who is dead.


"I want to know his name, if you please?"


"Chandler's shop, left hand side, name of Blinder."


"Was he--I don't know how to shape the question--" murmured my guardian, "industrious?"


He'd set upon a post at a street corner eight or ten hours at a stretch if he undertook to do it."

He'd set at a street corner eight or ten hours at a stretch if he undertook to do it."


"He might have done worse," I heard my guardian soliloquize.

"He might have done worse," I heard my guardian murmur.


"He might have undertaken to do it and not done it.


We left the boy, with his head on one side and his arms on the gate, fondling and sucking the spikes, and went back to Lincoln's Inn, where Mr. Skimpole, who had not cared to remain nearer Coavinses, awaited us. Then we all went to Bell Yard, a narrow alley at a very short distance.

We left the boy, and went to Bell Yard, a narrow alley a short distance away.


In it was a good-natured-looking old woman with a dropsy, or an asthma, or perhaps both.

In it was a good-natured looking old woman.


And she handed me the key across the counter.


I glanced at the key and glanced at her, but she took it for granted that I knew what to do with it.


As it could only be intended for the children's door, I came out without asking any more questions and led the way up the dark stairs.


We went as quietly as we could, but four of us made some noise on the aged boards, and when we came to the second story we found we had disturbed a man who was standing there looking out of his room.

We went as quietly as we could, but when we came to the second storey we found we had disturbed a man who was standing there looking out of his room.


he said, fixing his eyes on me with an angry stare.


"No, sir," said I; "I am going higher up."


He looked at Ada, and at Mr. Jarndyce, and at Mr. Skimpole, fixing the same angry stare on each in succession as they passed and followed me.

He looked at Ada, and at Mr. Jarndyce, and at Mr. Skimpole, fixing the same angry stare on each.


He was a tall, sallow man with a careworn head on which but little hair remained, a deeply lined face, and prominent eyes.

He was a tall, sallow man with a careworn head, a deeply lined face, and prominent eyes.


He had a combative look and a chafing, irritable manner which, associated with his figure--still large and powerful, though evidently in its decline--rather alarmed me.

His combative, irritable manner rather alarmed me.


He had a pen in his hand, and in the glimpse I caught of his room in passing, I saw that it was covered with a litter of papers.

He had a pen in his hand, and in the glimpse I caught of his room, I saw that it was covered with a litter of papers.


Leaving him standing there, we went up to the top room.

Leaving him there, we went up to the top room.


I tapped at the door, and a little shrill voice inside said, "We are locked in."


I applied the key on hearing this and opened the door.


In a poor room with a sloping ceiling and containing very little furniture was a mite of a boy, some five or six years old, nursing and hushing a heavy child of eighteen months.


There was no fire, though the weather was cold; both children were wrapped in some poor shawls and tippets as a substitute.

There was no fire, though the weather was cold; both children were wrapped in some poor shawls as a substitute.


Their clothing was not so warm, however, but that their noses looked red and pinched and their small figures shrunken as the boy walked up and down nursing and hushing the child with its head on his shoulder.

Their noses looked red and pinched and their small figures shrunken as the boy walked up and down hushing the child with its head on his shoulder.


"Charley," said the boy, standing still to gaze at us.


"Are there any more of you besides Charley?"


"Me," said the boy, "and Emma," patting the limp bonnet of the child he was nursing.


"Out a-washing," said the boy, beginning to walk up and down again and taking the nankeen bonnet much too near the bedstead by trying to gaze at us at the same time.

"Out a-washing," said the boy, beginning to walk up and down again and trying to gaze at us at the same time.


We were looking at one another and at these two children when there came into the room a very little girl, childish in figure but shrewd and older-looking in the face--pretty-faced too--wearing a womanly sort of bonnet much too large for her and drying her bare arms on a womanly sort of apron.

Just then there came into the room a very little girl, childish in figure but shrewd and older-looking in the face - pretty too - wearing a bonnet much too large for her and drying her bare arms on an apron.


Her fingers were white and wrinkled with washing, and the soap-suds were yet smoking which she wiped off her arms.

Her fingers were white and wrinkled with washing, and she wiped soap-suds off her arms.