"You know my old opinion of him," said Mr. Skimpole, lightly appealing to us.


"An amiable bull who is determined to make every colour scarlet!"


Sir Leicester Dedlock coughed as if he could not possibly hear another word in reference to such an individual and took his leave with great ceremony and politeness.

Sir Leicester Dedlock took his leave with great ceremony.


I got to my own room with all possible speed and remained there until I had recovered my self-command.


It had been very much disturbed, but I was thankful to find when I went downstairs again that they only rallied me for having been shy and mute before the great Lincolnshire baronet.

I was thankful to find when I went downstairs that they only rallied me for having been shy before the great Lincolnshire baronet.


By that time I had made up my mind that the period was come when I must tell my guardian what I knew.

But I had made up my mind that I must tell my guardian what I knew.


The possibility of my being brought into contact with my mother, of my being taken to her house, even of Mr. Skimpole's, however distantly associated with me, receiving kindnesses and obligations from her husband, was so painful that I felt I could no longer guide myself without his assistance.

The possibility of my being brought into contact with my mother, of my being taken to her house, was so painful that I felt I could no longer guide myself without his assistance.


When we had retired for the night, and Ada and I had had our usual talk in our pretty room, I went out at my door again and sought my guardian among his books.

When we had retired for the night, and Ada and I had had our usual talk, I went and sought my guardian among his books.


I knew he always read at that hour, and as I drew near I saw the light shining out into the passage from his reading-lamp.


I thought I would like to take this quiet time of saying a word to you about myself."


He put a chair for me, shut his book, and put it by, and turned his kind attentive face towards me.

He shut his book, and turned his kind attentive face towards me.


I could not help observing that it wore that curious expression I had observed in it once before--on that night when he had said that he was in no trouble which I could readily understand.

I could not help observing that it wore that curious expression I had seen in it once before - on that night when he had said that he was in no trouble which I could readily understand.


"What concerns you, my dear Esther," said he, "concerns us all.


You cannot be more ready to speak than I am to hear."


But I have such need of your advice and support. Oh! You don't know how much need I have to-night."
He looked unprepared for my being so earnest, and even a little alarmed.
"Or how anxious I have been to speak to you," said I, "ever since the visitor was here to-day."

But I have such need of your advice and support tonight - ever since the visitor was here today."


He folded his arms and sat looking at me with an air of the profoundest astonishment, awaiting what I should say next.

He sat looking at me with an air of the profoundest astonishment.


"Why, Esther," said he, breaking into a smile, "our visitor and you are the two last persons on earth I should have thought of connecting together!"


The smile passed from his face, and he became graver than before.

The smile passed from his face, and he became grave.


He crossed to the door to see that it was shut (but I had seen to that) and resumed his seat before me.

He crossed to the door to see that it was shut and resumed his seat before me.


"Guardian," said I, "do you remember, when we were overtaken by the thunder-storm, Lady Dedlock's speaking to you of her sister?"


"And reminding you that she and her sister had differed, had gone their several ways?"

"And reminding you that she and her sister had gone their different ways?"


His face quite altered as he looked at me.


No one but themselves ever did know, I believe.


Who could tell what the secrets of those two handsome and proud women were!


If you had ever seen her sister, you would know her to have been as resolute and haughty as she."


"Oh, guardian, I have seen her many and many a time!"

"Oh, guardian, I have seen her many a time!"


"Then, Esther, when you spoke to me long ago of Boythorn, and when I told you that he was all but married once, and that the lady did not die, but died to him, and that that time had had its influence on his later life--did you know it all, and know who the lady was?"

"Then, Esther, when you spoke to me long ago of Boythorn, and when I told you that he was all but married once - did you know it all, and know who the lady was?"


"No, guardian," I returned, fearful of the light that dimly broke upon me.


"And why," I could scarcely ask him, "why, guardian, pray tell me why were THEY parted?"

"Guardian, pray tell me, why were they parted?"


"It was her act, and she kept its motives in her inflexible heart.

"It was her act, and she kept its motives secret.


He afterwards did conjecture (but it was mere conjecture) that some injury which her haughty spirit had received in her cause of quarrel with her sister had wounded her beyond all reason, but she wrote him that from the date of that letter she died to him--as in literal truth she did--and that the resolution was exacted from her by her knowledge of his proud temper and his strained sense of honour, which were both her nature too.

He afterwards did wonder if some quarrel with her sister had wounded her haughty spirit beyond all reason, but she wrote to tell him that from that date she died to him, and that she resolved on this through her knowledge of his proud temper and his sense of honour.


In consideration for those master points in him, and even in consideration for them in herself, she made the sacrifice, she said, and would live in it and die in it.

In consideration for those points in him, and also in herself, she made the sacrifice, she said.


She did both, I fear; certainly he never saw her, never heard of her from that hour.


I cried, giving way to my grief; "what sorrow have I innocently caused!"


That secluded sister is my first remembrance."


I would have told him all my mother's letter, but he would not hear it then.


He spoke so tenderly and wisely to me, and he put so plainly before me all I had myself imperfectly thought and hoped in my better state of mind, that, penetrated as I had been with fervent gratitude towards him through so many years, I believed I had never loved him so dearly, never thanked him in my heart so fully, as I did that night.

He spoke so tenderly and wisely to me, that, full as I had been with fervent gratitude towards him through so many years, I believed I had never loved him so dearly, never thanked him in my heart so fully, as I did that night.


And when he had taken me to my room and kissed me at the door, and when at last I lay down to sleep, my thought was how could I ever be busy enough, how could I ever be good enough, how in my little way could I ever hope to be forgetful enough of myself, devoted enough to him, and useful enough to others, to show him how I blessed and honoured him.

And when he had taken me to my room and kissed me at the door, and when at last I lay down to sleep, my thought was how could I ever be busy enough, good enough, forgetful enough of myself, devoted enough to him, and useful enough to others, to show him how I blessed and honoured him.


It was interesting when I dressed before daylight to peep out of window, where my candles were reflected in the black panes like two beacons, and finding all beyond still enshrouded in the indistinctness of last night, to watch how it turned out when the day came on.

When I dressed before daylight, it was interesting to peep out of the window at the indistinctness of night, and watch the day come.


As the prospect gradually revealed itself and disclosed the scene over which the wind had wandered in the dark, like my memory over my life, I had a pleasure in discovering the unknown objects that had been around me in my sleep.

The prospect gradually revealed the scene over which the wind had wandered in the dark, like my memory over my life.


At first they were faintly discernible in the mist, and above them the later stars still glimmered.


That pale interval over, the picture began to enlarge and fill up so fast that at every new peep I could have found enough to look at for an hour.


Imperceptibly my candles became the only incongruous part of the morning, the dark places in my room all melted away, and the day shone bright upon a cheerful landscape, prominent in which the old Abbey Church, with its massive tower, threw a softer train of shadow on the view than seemed compatible with its rugged character.

The dark places in my room all melted away, and the day shone bright upon a cheerful landscape, in which the old Abbey Church, with its massive, rugged tower, threw a soft train of shadow on the view.


But so from rough outsides (I hope I have learnt), serene and gentle influences often proceed.

But so from rough outsides, serene and gentle influences often come.


Every part of the house was in such order, and every one was so attentive to me, that I had no trouble with my two bunches of keys, though what with trying to remember the contents of each little store-room drawer and cupboard; and what with making notes on a slate about jams, and pickles, and preserves, and bottles, and glass, and china, and a great many other things; and what with being generally a methodical, old-maidish sort of foolish little person, I was so busy that I could not believe it was breakfast-time when I heard the bell ring.

Every part of the house was in such order, and everyone was so attentive to me, that I had no trouble with my two bunches of keys; though what with trying to remember the contents of each store-room drawer and cupboard, and making notes about jams, pickles, and china, and a great many other things; and what with being generally a methodical, old-maidish sort of foolish little person, I was so busy that I could not believe it when breakfast-time came.


Away I ran, however, and made tea, as I had already been installed into the responsibility of the tea-pot; and then, as they were all rather late and nobody was down yet, I thought I would take a peep at the garden and get some knowledge of that too.

Away I ran, and made tea; and then, as nobody was down yet, I thought I would take a peep at the garden.


I found it quite a delightful place--in front, the pretty avenue and drive by which we had approached (and where, by the by, we had cut up the gravel so terribly with our wheels that I asked the gardener to roll it); at the back, the flower-garden, with my darling at her window up there, throwing it open to smile out at me, as if she would have kissed me from that distance.

I found it quite a delightful place - in front, the pretty avenue and drive by which we had approached (and where our wheels had cut up the gravel so terribly that I asked the gardener to roll it); at the back, the flower-garden, with my darling Ada at her window, smiling out at me.


Beyond the flower-garden was a kitchen-garden, and then a paddock, and then a snug little rick-yard, and then a dear little farm-yard.

Beyond the flower-garden was a kitchen-garden, and then a paddock, and a snug little rick-yard, and a dear little farm-yard.


As to the house itself, with its three peaks in the roof; its various-shaped windows, some so large, some so small, and all so pretty; its trellis-work, against the south-front for roses and honey-suckle, and its homely, comfortable, welcoming look--it was, as Ada said when she came out to meet me with her arm through that of its master, worthy of her cousin John, a bold thing to say, though he only pinched her dear cheek for it.

As for the house itself, with its gables, its various-shaped windows, its trellis-work for roses and honey-suckle, and its homely, welcoming look - it was, as Ada said when she came out to meet me with Mr. Jarndyce, worthy of her cousin John; a bold thing to say, though he only pinched her cheek for it.


Mr. Skimpole was as agreeable at breakfast as he had been overnight.


There was honey on the table, and it led him into a discourse about bees.


He had no objection to honey, he said (and I should think he had not, for he seemed to like it), but he protested against the overweening assumptions of bees. He didn't at all see why the busy bee should be proposed as a model to him; he supposed the bee liked to make honey, or he wouldn't do it--nobody asked him.

He had no objection to honey, he said, but he didn't see why the busy bee should be proposed as a model to him; he supposed the bee liked to make honey, or it wouldn't do it.


It was not necessary for the bee to make such a merit of his tastes.


If every confectioner went buzzing about the world banging against everything that came in his way and egotistically calling upon everybody to take notice that he was going to his work and must not be interrupted, the world would be quite an unsupportable place.


Then, after all, it was a ridiculous position to be smoked out of your fortune with brimstone as soon as you had made it.


You would have a very mean opinion of a Manchester man if he spun cotton for no other purpose.


He must say he thought a drone the embodiment of a pleasanter and wiser idea.


The drone said unaffectedly, "You will excuse me; I really cannot attend to the shop!


I find myself in a world in which there is so much to see and so short a time to see it in that I must take the liberty of looking about me and begging to be provided for by somebody who doesn't want to look about him."


This appeared to Mr. Skimpole to be the drone philosophy, and he thought it a very good philosophy, always supposing the drone to be willing to be on good terms with the bee, which, so far as he knew, the easy fellow always was, if the consequential creature would only let him, and not be so conceited about his honey!

He thought the drone to have a pleasanter philosophy, always supposing the drone to be willing to be on good terms with the bee, which was so conceited about its honey!


He pursued this fancy with the lightest foot over a variety of ground and made us all merry, though again he seemed to have as serious a meaning in what he said as he was capable of having.

He pursued this fancy lightly and made us all merry.


I left them still listening to him when I withdrew to attend to my new duties.

I left them listening to him and withdrew to attend to my new duties.


They had occupied me for some time, and I was passing through the passages on my return with my basket of keys on my arm when Mr. Jarndyce called me into a small room next his bed-chamber, which I found to be in part a little library of books and papers and in part quite a little museum of his boots and shoes and hat-boxes.

I was passing through the passages with my basket of keys on my arm, when Mr. Jarndyce called me into a small room next to his bedroom, which I found to be in part a little library of books and papers and in part a little museum of his shoes and hat-boxes.


When I am out of humour, I come and growl here."


"You must be here very seldom, sir," said I.


"When I am deceived or disappointed in--the wind, and it's easterly, I take refuge here.

"When I am deceived or disappointed in - the wind, and it's easterly, I take refuge here.


The growlery is the best-used room in the house.


You are not aware of half my humours yet.


I could not help it; I tried very hard, but being alone with that benevolent presence, and meeting his kind eyes, and feeling so happy and so honoured there, and my heart so full--I kissed his hand.

I could not help it; being alone with him, and meeting his kind eyes, and feeling so happy and so honoured, and my heart so full - I kissed his hand.


I don't know what I said, or even that I spoke.


He was disconcerted and walked to the window; I almost believed with an intention of jumping out, until he turned and I was reassured by seeing in his eyes what he had gone there to hide.


He gently patted me on the head, and I sat down.


"It shall not happen again, sir," I returned, "but at first it is difficult--"

"It shall not happen again, sir," I returned, "but at first it is difficult-"


I hear of a good little orphan girl without a protector, and I take it into my head to be that protector.


She grows up, and more than justifies my good opinion, and I remain her guardian and her friend.

She grows up, and justifies my good opinion, and I remain her guardian and her friend.


Now, we have cleared off old scores, and I have before me thy pleasant, trusting, trusty face again."


I said to myself, "Esther, my dear, you surprise me! This really is not what I expected of you!"

I said to myself, "Esther, my dear, this really is not what I expected of you!"


And it had such a good effect that I folded my hands upon my basket and quite recovered myself.

And I folded my hands upon my basket and recovered myself.


Mr. Jarndyce, expressing his approval in his face, began to talk to me as confidentially as if I had been in the habit of conversing with him every morning for I don't know how long.

Mr. Jarndyce, expressing his approval in his face, began to talk to me as confidentially as if I had been in the habit of conversing with him every morning.


"Of course, Esther," he said, "you don't understand this Chancery business?"


"The lawyers have twisted it into such a state of bedevilment that the original merits of the case have long disappeared from the face of the earth.


It's about a will and the trusts under a will--or it was once.

It's about a will and the trusts under a will - or it was once.


We are always appearing, and disappearing, and swearing, and interrogating, and filing, and cross-filing, and arguing, and sealing, and motioning, and referring, and reporting, and revolving about the Lord Chancellor and all his satellites, and equitably waltzing ourselves off to dusty death, about costs.

We are always appearing, and filing, and cross-filing, and arguing, and sealing, and referring, and revolving about the Lord Chancellor, and waltzing ourselves off to dusty death, about costs.


All the rest, by some extraordinary means, has melted away."


"But it was, sir," said I, to bring him back, for he began to rub his head, "about a will?"


"Why, yes, it was about a will when it was about anything," he returned.


"A certain Jarndyce, in an evil hour, made a great fortune, and made a great will.


In the question how the trusts under that will are to be administered, the fortune left by the will is squandered away; the legatees under the will are reduced to such a miserable condition that they would be sufficiently punished if they had committed an enormous crime in having money left them, and the will itself is made a dead letter.

In arguing how the trusts under that will are to be administered, the fortune left by the will is squandered away, and the will itself is made a dead letter.


All through the deplorable cause, everything that everybody in it, except one man, knows already is referred to that only one man who don't know, it to find out--all through the deplorable cause, everybody must have copies, over and over again, of everything that has accumulated about it in the way of cartloads of papers (or must pay for them without having them, which is the usual course, for nobody wants them) and must go down the middle and up again through such an infernal country-dance of costs and fees and nonsense and corruption as was never dreamed of in the wildest visions of a witch's Sabbath.

All through the deplorable cause, everybody must have copies, over and over again, of everything that has accumulated about it. Cartloads of papers must go up and down through such an infernal country-dance of costs and fees and nonsense and corruption as was never dreamed of.


Equity sends questions to law, law sends questions back to equity; law finds it can't do this, equity finds it can't do that; neither can so much as say it can't do anything, without this solicitor instructing and this counsel appearing for A, and that solicitor instructing and that counsel appearing for B; and so on through the whole alphabet, like the history of the apple pie. And thus, through years and years, and lives and lives, everything goes on, constantly beginning over and over again, and nothing ever ends.

Equity sends questions to law, law sends questions back to equity; and thus, through years and years, everything is constantly beginning over and over again, and nothing ever ends.


And we can't get out of the suit on any terms, for we are made parties to it, and MUST BE parties to it, whether we like it or not.

And we can't get out of the suit, for we must take part in it, whether we like it or not.


When my great uncle, poor Tom Jarndyce, began to think of it, it was the beginning of the end!"


"The Mr. Jarndyce, sir, whose story I have heard?"


"I was his heir, and this was his house, Esther.


He had left the signs of his misery upon it."


"It had been called, before his time, the Peaks.


He gave it its present name and lived here shut up, day and night poring over the wicked heaps of papers in the suit and hoping against hope to disentangle it from its mystification and bring it to a close.

"He gave it its name and lived here shut up, day and night poring over the wicked heaps of papers in the suit and hoping against hope to disentangle it.


In the meantime, the place became dilapidated, the wind whistled through the cracked walls, the rain fell through the broken roof, the weeds choked the passage to the rotting door.

In the meantime, the place became dilapidated, the wind whistled through the cracked walls, and the rain fell through the broken roof.


When I brought what remained of him home here, the brains seemed to me to have been blown out of the house too, it was so shattered and ruined."

When I brought his remains home here, the brains seemed to me to have been blown out of the house too, it was so shattered and ruined."


He walked a little to and fro after saying this to himself with a shudder, and then looked at me, and brightened, and came and sat down again with his hands in his pockets.

He walked a little to and fro after saying this, and then looked at me, and brightened, and came and sat down again with his hands in his pockets.


"I told you this was the growlery, my dear.


I reminded him, at the hopeful change he had made in Bleak House.

I reminded him, at the change he had made in Bleak House.


There is, in that city of London there, some property of ours which is much at this day what Bleak House was then; I say property of ours, meaning of the suit's, but I ought to call it the property of costs, for costs is the only power on earth that will ever get anything out of it now or will ever know it for anything but an eyesore and a heartsore.

There is, in that city of London there, some property of ours which is much what Bleak House was then; I say property of ours, meaning of the law-suit's.


It is a street of perishing blind houses, with their eyes stoned out, without a pane of glass, without so much as a window-frame, with the bare blank shutters tumbling from their hinges and falling asunder, the iron rails peeling away in flakes of rust, the chimneys sinking in, the stone steps to every door (and every door might be death's door) turning stagnant green, the very crutches on which the ruins are propped decaying.

It is a street of blind houses, with their eyes stoned out, without a pane of glass, with the bare blank shutters tumbling from their hinges, the iron rails peeling away in flakes of rust, the chimneys sinking in, the very foundations decaying.


Although Bleak House was not in Chancery, its master was, and it was stamped with the same seal.

Although Bleak House was not in Chancery, that street it, and is stamped with the same seal.


These are the Great Seal's impressions, my dear, all over England--the children know them!"

These are the Great Seal's impressions, my dear, all over England!"


"Why, so it is," he answered much more cheerfully; "and it is wisdom in you to keep me to the bright side of the picture."

"Why, so it is," he answered much more cheerfully; "and you are wise to keep me to the bright side of the picture."


"These are things I never talk about or even think about, excepting in the growlery here.

"These are things I never think about, except in the growlery here.


If you consider it right to mention them to Rick and Ada," looking seriously at me, "you can.

If you consider it right to mention them to Rick and Ada, you can.


"I think you had better call me guardian, my dear."


I felt that I was choking again--I taxed myself with it, "Esther, now, you know you are!"


--when he feigned to say this slightly, as if it were a whim instead of a thoughtful tenderness.


But I gave the housekeeping keys the least shake in the world as a reminder to myself, and folding my hands in a still more determined manner on the basket, looked at him quietly.

But I gave the housekeeping keys a small shake as a reminder to myself, and looked at him quietly.


"I hope, guardian," said I, "that you may not trust too much to my discretion.


I am afraid it will be a disappointment to you to know that I am not clever, but it really is the truth, and you would soon find it out if I had not the honesty to confess it."

I am afraid it will be a disappointment to you to know that I am not clever; but it is the truth."


He did not seem at all disappointed; quite the contrary.


He told me, with a smile all over his face, that he knew me very well indeed and that I was quite clever enough for him.

He told me, with a smile, that he knew me very well and that I was clever enough for him.


"I hope I may turn out so," said I, "but I am much afraid of it, guardian."


"You are clever enough to be the good little woman of our lives here, my dear," he returned playfully; "the little old woman of the child's (I don't mean Skimpole's) rhyme:

"You are clever enough," he said playfully, "to be the good little old woman of the nursery rhyme:


"'Little old woman, and whither so high?'


"You will sweep them so neatly out of OUR sky in the course of your housekeeping, Esther, that one of these days we shall have to abandon the growlery and nail up the door."

"You will sweep them so neatly, Esther, that one of these days we shall have to abandon the growlery and nail up the door."


This was the beginning of my being called Old Woman, and Little Old Woman, and Cobweb, and Mrs. Shipton, and Mother Hubbard, and Dame Durden, and so many names of that sort that my own name soon became quite lost among them.

This was the beginning of my being called Little Old Woman, and Cobweb, and Mrs. Shipton, and Mother Hubbard, and Dame Durden, and so many names of that sort that my own name soon became quite lost among them.


"However," said Mr. Jarndyce, "to return to our gossip.


Here's Rick, a fine young fellow full of promise.


Oh, my goodness, the idea of asking my advice on such a point!


"Here he is, Esther," said Mr. Jarndyce, comfortably putting his hands into his pockets and stretching out his legs.


"He must have a profession; he must make some choice for himself.

"He must have a profession," said Mr. Jarndyce, stretching out his legs; "he must make some choice for himself.


There will be a world more wiglomeration about it, I suppose, but it must be done."

There will be more wiglomeration about it, I suppose, but it must be done."


"It's the only name I know for the thing.


Kenge and Carboy will have something to say about it; Master Somebody--a sort of ridiculous sexton, digging graves for the merits of causes in a back room at the end of Quality Court, Chancery Lane--will have something to say about it; counsel will have something to say about it; the Chancellor will have something to say about it; the satellites will have something to say about it; they will all have to be handsomely feed, all round, about it; the whole thing will be vastly ceremonious, wordy, unsatisfactory, and expensive, and I call it, in general, wiglomeration.

Kenge and Carboy will have something to say about it; counsel will have something to say about it; the Chancellor will have something to say about it; the whole thing will be vastly ceremonious, wordy, unsatisfactory, and expensive, and I call it wiglomeration."


How mankind ever came to be afflicted with wiglomeration, or for whose sins these young people ever fell into a pit of it, I don't know; so it is."


He began to rub his head again and to hint that he felt the wind.


But it was a delightful instance of his kindness towards me that whether he rubbed his head, or walked about, or did both, his face was sure to recover its benignant expression as it looked at mine; and he was sure to turn comfortable again and put his hands in his pockets and stretch out his legs.

But his face recovered its benign expression as he looked at me; and he put his hands in his pockets again.


"Perhaps it would be best, first of all," said I, "to ask Mr. Richard what he inclines to himself."

"Perhaps it would be best, first of all," said I, "to ask Mr. Richard what he would like to do."


You know, just accustom yourself to talk it over, with your tact and in your quiet way, with him and Ada, and see what you all make of it.

"Talk it over, with your tact and in your quiet way, with him and Ada.


We are sure to come at the heart of the matter by your means, little woman."


I really was frightened at the thought of the importance I was attaining and the number of things that were being confided to me.


I had not meant this at all; I had meant that he should speak to Richard.


But of course I said nothing in reply except that I would do my best, though I feared (I really felt it necessary to repeat this) that he thought me much more sagacious than I was.

But of course I said that I would do my best, though I feared that he thought me much wiser than I was.


At which my guardian only laughed the pleasantest laugh I ever heard.

At which he laughed the pleasantest laugh I ever heard.


he said, rising and pushing back his chair.


"I think we may have done with the growlery for one day!


Esther, my dear, do you wish to ask me anything?"


He looked so attentively at me that I looked attentively at him and felt sure I understood him.

He looked so attentively at me that I felt sure I understood him.


"Guardian," said I, venturing to put my hand, which was suddenly colder than I could have wished, in his, "nothing!

"Guardian," said I, venturing to put my hand in his, "nothing!


I am quite sure that if there were anything I ought to know or had any need to know, I should not have to ask you to tell it to me.

I am sure that if there were anything I ought to know, you would tell it to me.


If my whole reliance and confidence were not placed in you, I must have a hard heart indeed.


I have nothing to ask you, nothing in the world."


He drew my hand through his arm and we went away to look for Ada.


From that hour I felt quite easy with him, quite unreserved, quite content to know no more, quite happy.

From that hour I felt quite easy with him, quite content to know no more, quite happy.


We lived, at first, rather a busy life at Bleak House, for we had to become acquainted with many residents in and out of the neighbourhood who knew Mr. Jarndyce.

We lived, at first, rather a busy life at Bleak House, for we had to become acquainted with many people who knew Mr. Jarndyce.


It seemed to Ada and me that everybody knew him who wanted to do anything with anybody else's money.


It amazed us when we began to sort his letters and to answer some of them for him in the growlery of a morning to find how the great object of the lives of nearly all his correspondents appeared to be to form themselves into committees for getting in and laying out money.

It amazed us when we began to sort his letters to find how the great object of the lives of nearly all his correspondents appeared to be to form themselves into committees for getting in money.


The ladies were as desperate as the gentlemen; indeed, I think they were even more so.


They threw themselves into committees in the most impassioned manner and collected subscriptions with a vehemence quite extraordinary.

The ladies threw themselves into committees in the most impassioned manner and collected subscriptions with a vehemence quite extraordinary.


It appeared to us that some of them must pass their whole lives in dealing out subscription-cards to the whole post-office directory--shilling cards, half-crown cards, half-sovereign cards, penny cards.


They wanted wearing apparel, they wanted linen rags, they wanted money, they wanted coals, they wanted soup, they wanted interest, they wanted autographs, they wanted flannel, they wanted whatever Mr. Jarndyce had--or had not.

They wanted clothes, they wanted coals, they wanted soup, they wanted flannel, they wanted whatever Mr. Jarndyce had - or had not.


Their objects were as various as their demands.


They were going to raise new buildings, they were going to pay off debts on old buildings, they were going to establish in a picturesque building (engraving of proposed west elevation attached) the Sisterhood of Mediaeval Marys, they were going to give a testimonial to Mrs. Jellyby, they were going to have their secretary's portrait painted and presented to his mother-in-law, whose deep devotion to him was well known, they were going to get up everything, I really believe, from five hundred thousand tracts to an annuity and from a marble monument to a silver tea-pot.

They were going to raise new buildings, or pay off debts on old buildings; they were going to give a testimonial to Mrs. Jellyby, they were going to have their secretary's portrait painted and presented to his mother-in-law; they were going to get up everything from a marble monument to a silver tea-pot.


They were the Women of England, the Daughters of Britain, the Sisters of all the cardinal virtues separately, the Females of America, the Ladies of a hundred denominations.

They were the Women of England, the Daughters of Britain, the Sisters of all the virtues separately.


They appeared to be always excited about canvassing and electing. They seemed to our poor wits, and according to their own accounts, to be constantly polling people by tens of thousands, yet never bringing their candidates in for anything.

They appeared to be always canvassing and electing, polling people by tens of thousands.


It made our heads ache to think, on the whole, what feverish lives they must lead.

It made our heads ache to think what feverish lives they must lead.


Among the ladies who were most distinguished for this rapacious benevolence (if I may use the expression) was a Mrs. Pardiggle, who seemed, as I judged from the number of her letters to Mr. Jarndyce, to be almost as powerful a correspondent as Mrs. Jellyby herself.

Among the ladies who were most distinguished for this rapacious benevolence (if I may use the expression) was a Mrs. Pardiggle, who seemed to be almost as powerful a correspondent as Mrs. Jellyby herself.


We observed that the wind always changed when Mrs. Pardiggle became the subject of conversation and that it invariably interrupted Mr. Jarndyce and prevented his going any farther, when he had remarked that there were two classes of charitable people; one, the people who did a little and made a great deal of noise; the other, the people who did a great deal and made no noise at all.

We observed that the wind always changed when Mrs. Pardiggle became the subject of conversation. Mr. Jarndyce remarked that there were two classes of charitable people; one, the people who did a little and made a great deal of noise; the other, the people who did a great deal and made no noise at all.


We were therefore curious to see Mrs. Pardiggle, suspecting her to be a type of the former class, and were glad when she called one day with her five young sons.


She was a formidable style of lady with spectacles, a prominent nose, and a loud voice, who had the effect of wanting a great deal of room. And she really did, for she knocked down little chairs with her skirts that were quite a great way off.

She was a formidable lady with spectacles, a prominent nose, and a loud voice, who knocked down little chairs with her skirts.


As only Ada and I were at home, we received her timidly, for she seemed to come in like cold weather and to make the little Pardiggles blue as they followed.

As only Ada and I were at home, we received her timidly.


"These, young ladies," said Mrs. Pardiggle with great volubility after the first salutations, "are my five boys.

"These, young ladies," said Mrs. Pardiggle, "are my five boys.


You may have seen their names in a printed subscription list (perhaps more than one) in the possession of our esteemed friend Mr. Jarndyce.

You may have seen their names in a printed subscription list sent to our esteemed friend Mr. Jarndyce.


Egbert, my eldest (twelve), is the boy who sent out his pocket-money, to the amount of five and threepence, to the Tockahoopo Indians.

Egbert, my eldest (twelve), is the boy who sent his pocket-money, to the amount of five shillings and threepence, to the Tockahoopo Indians.


Oswald, my second (ten and a half), is the child who contributed two and nine-pence to the Great National Smithers Testimonial.

Oswald, my second (ten and a half), contributed two and nine-pence to the Great National Smithers Testimonial.


Francis, my third (nine), one and sixpence halfpenny; Felix, my fourth (seven), eightpence to the Superannuated Widows; Alfred, my youngest (five), has voluntarily enrolled himself in the Infant Bonds of Joy, and is pledged never, through life, to use tobacco in any form."

Francis, my third (nine), one and sixpence halfpenny; Felix, my fourth (seven), eightpence to the Superannuated Widows; Alfred, my youngest (five), has voluntarily enrolled himself in the Infant Bonds of Joy, and is pledged never to use tobacco in any form."


We had never seen such dissatisfied children.


It was not merely that they were weazened and shrivelled--though they were certainly that too--but they looked absolutely ferocious with discontent.

It was not merely that they were wizened and shrivelled - though they were certainly that - but they looked absolutely ferocious with discontent.


At the mention of the Tockahoopo Indians, I could really have supposed Egbert to be one of the most baleful members of that tribe, he gave me such a savage frown.

At the mention of the Tockahoopo Indians, Egbert gave me a savage frown.


The face of each child, as the amount of his contribution was mentioned, darkened in a peculiarly vindictive manner, but his was by far the worst.

The face of each child, as the amount of his contribution was mentioned, darkened.


I must except, however, the little recruit into the Infant Bonds of Joy, who was stolidly and evenly miserable.


"You have been visiting, I understand," said Mrs. Pardiggle, "at Mrs. Jellyby's?"


We said yes, we had passed one night there.


"Mrs. Jellyby," pursued the lady, always speaking in the same demonstrative, loud, hard tone, so that her voice impressed my fancy as if it had a sort of spectacles on too--and I may take the opportunity of remarking that her spectacles were made the less engaging by her eyes being what Ada called "choking eyes," meaning very prominent--"Mrs. Jellyby is a benefactor to society and deserves a helping hand.

"Mrs. Jellyby," pursued the lady, in the same loud, hard tone, "is a benefactor to society.


My boys have contributed to the African project--Egbert, one and six, being the entire allowance of nine weeks; Oswald, one and a penny halfpenny, being the same; the rest, according to their little means.

My boys have contributed to the African project - Egbert, one and six, being the entire allowance of nine weeks; Oswald, one and a penny halfpenny; the rest, according to their little means.


Nevertheless, I do not go with Mrs. Jellyby in all things.


I do not go with Mrs. Jellyby in her treatment of her young family.

I do not go with her in her treatment of her young family.


It has been observed that her young family are excluded from participation in the objects to which she is devoted.

Her young family are excluded from participation in the objects to which she is devoted.


She may be right, she may be wrong; but, right or wrong, this is not my course with MY young family.

This is not my course with my young family.


I was afterwards convinced (and so was Ada) that from the ill-conditioned eldest child, these words extorted a sharp yell. He turned it off into a yawn, but it began as a yell.

At this the eldest child let out a sharp yell, which he turned into a yawn.


"They attend matins with me (very prettily done) at half-past six o'clock in the morning all the year round, including of course the depth of winter," said Mrs. Pardiggle rapidly, "and they are with me during the revolving duties of the day.

"They attend matins with me at half-past six o'clock in the morning all the year round," said Mrs. Pardiggle, "and they are with me during the revolving duties of the day.


I am a School lady, I am a Visiting lady, I am a Reading lady, I am a Distributing lady; I am on the local Linen Box Committee and many general committees; and my canvassing alone is very extensive--perhaps no one's more so.

I am a School lady, a Visiting lady, and a Distributing lady; I am on the local Linen Box Committee and many general committees; and my canvassing is very extensive.


But they are my companions everywhere; and by these means they acquire that knowledge of the poor, and that capacity of doing charitable business in general--in short, that taste for the sort of thing--which will render them in after life a service to their neighbours and a satisfaction to themselves.

But they are my companions everywhere; and so they acquire a knowledge of the poor, and of charitable business.


My young family are not frivolous; they expend the entire amount of their allowance in subscriptions, under my direction; and they have attended as many public meetings and listened to as many lectures, orations, and discussions as generally fall to the lot of few grown people.

My young family are not frivolous; they have attended as many public meetings and lectures as most adults.


Alfred (five), who, as I mentioned, has of his own election joined the Infant Bonds of Joy, was one of the very few children who manifested consciousness on that occasion after a fervid address of two hours from the chairman of the evening."

Alfred (five), who, as I mentioned, has joined the Infant Bonds of Joy, heard a speech of two hours from the chairman that evening."


Alfred glowered at us as if he never could, or would, forgive the injury of that night.

Alfred glowered at us as if he would never forgive the injury of that night.


"You may have observed, Miss Summerson," said Mrs. Pardiggle, "in some of the lists to which I have referred, in the possession of our esteemed friend Mr. Jarndyce, that the names of my young family are concluded with the name of O.


I put down my mite first; then my young family enrol their contributions, according to their ages and their little means; and then Mr. Pardiggle brings up the rear.


Mr. Pardiggle is happy to throw in his limited donation, under my direction; and thus things are made not only pleasant to ourselves, but, we trust, improving to others."


Suppose Mr. Pardiggle were to dine with Mr. Jellyby, and suppose Mr. Jellyby were to relieve his mind after dinner to Mr. Pardiggle, would Mr. Pardiggle, in return, make any confidential communication to Mr. Jellyby?


I was quite confused to find myself thinking this, but it came into my head.


"You are very pleasantly situated here!"


We were glad to change the subject, and going to the window, pointed out the beauties of the prospect, on which the spectacles appeared to me to rest with curious indifference.


We were obliged to say that we had not the pleasure of Mr. Gusher's acquaintance.


"The loss is yours, I assure you," said Mrs. Pardiggle with her commanding deportment.

"The loss is yours, I assure you," said Mrs. Pardiggle.


"He is a very fervid, impassioned speaker--full of fire!

"He is a very fervid, impassioned speaker - full of fire!


Stationed in a waggon on this lawn, now, which, from the shape of the land, is naturally adapted to a public meeting, he would improve almost any occasion you could mention for hours and hours!

He would improve almost any occasion you could mention for hours and hours!


By this time, young ladies," said Mrs. Pardiggle, moving back to her chair and overturning, as if by invisible agency, a little round table at a considerable distance with my work-basket on it, "by this time you have found me out, I dare say?"

By this time, young ladies, you have found me out, I dare say?"


This was really such a confusing question that Ada looked at me in perfect dismay. As to the guilty nature of my own consciousness after what I had been thinking, it must have been expressed in the colour of my cheeks.

Ada looked at me in dismay; while I think I must have blushed in my confusion.


"Found out, I mean," said Mrs. Pardiggle, "the prominent point in my character.


I am aware that it is so prominent as to be discoverable immediately.


I freely admit, I am a woman of business.

I freely admit it, I am a woman of business," announced Mrs. Pardiggle.


I am so accustomed and inured to hard work that I don't know what fatigue is."


We murmured that it was very astonishing and very gratifying, or something to that effect.

We murmured that it was very astonishing and gratifying, or something to that effect.


I don't think we knew what it was either, but this is what our politeness expressed.


"I do not understand what it is to be tired; you cannot tire me if you try!"


"The quantity of exertion (which is no exertion to me), the amount of business (which I regard as nothing), that I go through sometimes astonishes myself.

"The exertion that I go through sometimes astonishes myself.


I have seen my young family, and Mr. Pardiggle, quite worn out with witnessing it, when I may truly say I have been as fresh as a lark!"


If that dark-visaged eldest boy could look more malicious than he had already looked, this was the time when he did it.


I observed that he doubled his right fist and delivered a secret blow into the crown of his cap, which was under his left arm.

I observed that the eldest boy doubled his right fist and delivered a secret blow into the crown of his cap, which was under his left arm.


"This gives me a great advantage when I am making my rounds," said Mrs. Pardiggle.


"If I find a person unwilling to hear what I have to say, I tell that person directly, 'I am incapable of fatigue, my good friend, I am never tired, and I mean to go on until I have done.'

"If I find a person unwilling to hear what I have to say, I tell them directly, 'I am incapable of fatigue, my good friend, I am never tired, and I mean to go on until I have done.'


Miss Summerson, I hope I shall have your assistance in my visiting rounds immediately, and Miss Clare's very soon."

Miss Summerson, I hope I shall have your assistance in my visiting rounds immediately."


At first I tried to excuse myself for the present on the general ground of having occupations to attend to which I must not neglect.

At first I tried to excuse myself on the ground of having occupations which I must not neglect.


But as this was an ineffectual protest, I then said, more particularly, that I was not sure of my qualifications. That I was inexperienced in the art of adapting my mind to minds very differently situated, and addressing them from suitable points of view. That I had not that delicate knowledge of the heart which must be essential to such a work. That I had much to learn, myself, before I could teach others, and that I could not confide in my good intentions alone.

But as this was ineffectual, I then said that I was not sure of my qualifications for such work - that I had much to learn, myself, before I could teach others.


For these reasons I thought it best to be as useful as I could, and to render what kind services I could to those immediately about me, and to try to let that circle of duty gradually and naturally expand itself.

For these reasons I thought it best to be as useful as I could, and to do what kind services I could for those immediately about me, and to try to let that circle of duty gradually and naturally expand itself.


All this I said with anything but confidence, because Mrs. Pardiggle was much older than I, and had great experience, and was so very military in her manners.

All this I said with anything but confidence.


"You are wrong, Miss Summerson," said she, "but perhaps you are not equal to hard work or the excitement of it, and that makes a vast difference.

"You are wrong, Miss Summerson," said Mrs. Pardiggle, "but perhaps you are not equal to hard work, and that makes a vast difference.


If you would like to see how I go through my work, I am now about--with my young family--to visit a brickmaker in the neighbourhood (a very bad character) and shall be glad to take you with me.

If you would like to see how I go through my work, I am now about to visit a brickmaker in the neighbourhood (a very bad character) and shall be glad to take you with me.


Miss Clare also, if she will do me the favour."


Ada and I interchanged looks, and as we were going out in any case, accepted the offer.

Ada and I exchanged looks, and as we were going out in any case, accepted the offer.


When we hastily returned from putting on our bonnets, we found the young family languishing in a corner and Mrs. Pardiggle sweeping about the room, knocking down nearly all the light objects it contained.


Mrs. Pardiggle took possession of Ada, and I followed with the family.

Mrs. Pardiggle took possession of Ada, and I followed with her family.


Ada told me afterwards that Mrs. Pardiggle talked in the same loud tone (that, indeed, I overheard) all the way to the brickmaker's about an exciting contest which she had for two or three years waged against another lady relative to the bringing in of their rival candidates for a pension somewhere.


There had been a quantity of printing, and promising, and proxying, and polling, and it appeared to have imparted great liveliness to all concerned, except the pensioners--who were not elected yet.


I am very fond of being confided in by children and am happy in being usually favoured in that respect, but on this occasion it gave me great uneasiness.

I am very fond of being confided in by children, but on this occasion it gave me great uneasiness.


As soon as we were out of doors, Egbert, with the manner of a little footpad, demanded a shilling of me on the ground that his pocket-money was "boned" from him.

As soon as we were out of doors, Egbert demanded a shilling of me on the ground that his pocket-money was "boned" from him.


On my pointing out the great impropriety of the word, especially in connexion with his parent (for he added sulkily "By her!"), he pinched me and said, "Oh, then! Now! Who are you! YOU wouldn't like it, I think?

On my pointing out the great impropriety of the word, he pinched me and said, "You wouldn't like it!


What does she make a sham for, and pretend to give me money, and take it away again?

Why does she pretend to give me money, and take it away again?


Why do you call it my allowance, and never let me spend it?"


These exasperating questions so inflamed his mind and the minds of Oswald and Francis that they all pinched me at once, and in a dreadfully expert way--screwing up such little pieces of my arms that I could hardly forbear crying out. Felix, at the same time, stamped upon my toes.

These exasperating questions so inflamed his mind and the minds of Oswald and Francis that they all pinched me in a dreadfully expert way, and Felix stamped upon my toes.


And the Bond of Joy, who on account of always having the whole of his little income anticipated stood in fact pledged to abstain from cakes as well as tobacco, so swelled with grief and rage when we passed a pastry-cook's shop that he terrified me by becoming purple.

Little Alfred, who had pledged to abstain from cakes as well as tobacco, so swelled with grief and rage when we passed a pastry-cook's shop that he terrified me by becoming purple.


I never underwent so much, both in body and mind, in the course of a walk with young people as from these unnaturally constrained children when they paid me the compliment of being natural.


I was glad when we came to the brickmaker's house, though it was one of a cluster of wretched hovels in a brick-field, with pigsties close to the broken windows and miserable little gardens before the doors growing nothing but stagnant pools.

I was glad when we came to the brickmaker's house, though it was one of a cluster of wretched hovels in a brick-field, with pigsties close by and miserable little gardens growing nothing but stagnant pools.


Here and there an old tub was put to catch the droppings of rain-water from a roof, or they were banked up with mud into a little pond like a large dirt-pie.


At the doors and windows some men and women lounged or prowled about, and took little notice of us except to laugh to one another or to say something as we passed about gentlefolks minding their own business and not troubling their heads and muddying their shoes with coming to look after other people's.

At the doors and windows some men and women lounged, and took little notice of us except to laugh to one another or to say something as we passed, about gentlefolks minding their own business.


Mrs. Pardiggle, leading the way with a great show of moral determination and talking with much volubility about the untidy habits of the people (though I doubted if the best of us could have been tidy in such a place), conducted us into a cottage at the farthest corner, the ground-floor room of which we nearly filled.

Mrs. Pardiggle, leading the way with a great show of determination and talking loudly about the untidy habits of the people (though I doubted if the best of us could have been tidy in such a place), led us into a cottage. We nearly filled the damp ground-floor room.


Besides ourselves, there were in this damp, offensive room a woman with a black eye, nursing a poor little gasping baby by the fire; a man, all stained with clay and mud and looking very dissipated, lying at full length on the ground, smoking a pipe; a powerful young man fastening a collar on a dog; and a bold girl doing some kind of washing in very dirty water.

Besides ourselves, there were a woman with a black eye, nursing a poor little gasping baby; a man, all stained with clay and mud and looking very dissipated, lying at full length on the ground, smoking a pipe; a powerful young man fastening a collar on a dog; and a bold girl doing some washing in very dirty water.


They all looked up at us as we came in, and the woman seemed to turn her face towards the fire as if to hide her bruised eye; nobody gave us any welcome.

They all looked up as we came in, and the woman turned her face towards the fire as if to hide her bruised eye; nobody gave us any welcome.


"Well, my friends," said Mrs. Pardiggle, but her voice had not a friendly sound, I thought; it was much too business-like and systematic.

"Well, my friends," said Mrs. Pardiggle, but her voice had not a friendly sound, I thought.


I told you, you couldn't tire me, you know."


I am fond of hard work, and am true to my word."


"There an't," growled the man on the floor, whose head rested on his hand as he stared at us, "any more on you to come in, is there?"

"There an't any more on you to come in, is there?" growled the man on the floor.


"No, my friend," said Mrs. Pardiggle, seating herself on one stool and knocking down another.


"Because I thought there warn't enough of you, perhaps?"


said the man, with his pipe between his lips as he looked round upon us.


The young man and the girl both laughed.


Two friends of the young man, whom we had attracted to the doorway and who stood there with their hands in their pockets, echoed the laugh noisily.


"You can't tire me, good people," said Mrs. Pardiggle to these latter.

"You can't tire me, good people," said Mrs. Pardiggle.


"I enjoy hard work, and the harder you make mine, the better I like it."


I wants a end of these liberties took with my place.


I wants an end of being drawed like a badger.


Now you're a-going to poll-pry and question according to custom--I know what you're a-going to be up to.


You haven't got no occasion to be up to it.


How do you like it, and what do you think of gin instead!


Yes, it is dirty--it's nat'rally dirty, and it's nat'rally onwholesome; and we've had five dirty and onwholesome children, as is all dead infants, and so much the better for them, and for us besides.

Yes, it is dirty - and we've had five dirty and onwholesome children, as is all dead, and so much the better for them, and for us besides.


Have I read the little book wot you left?


No, I an't read the little book wot you left.


There an't nobody here as knows how to read it; and if there wos, it wouldn't be suitable to me. It's a book fit for a babby, and I'm not a babby.

There an't nobody here as knows how to read it; and anyway it's a book fit for a babby.


If you was to leave me a doll, I shouldn't nuss it.


Why, I've been drunk for three days; and I'da been drunk four if I'da had the money.


No, I don't never mean for to go to church. I shouldn't be expected there, if I did; the beadle's too gen-teel for me.

No, I don't, and I shouldn't be expected there, if I did.


Why, I give it her; and if she says I didn't, she's a lie!"


He had pulled his pipe out of his mouth to say all this, and he now turned over on his other side and smoked again.

He had pulled his pipe out of his mouth to say all this, and he now turned over and smoked again.


Mrs. Pardiggle, who had been regarding him through her spectacles with a forcible composure, calculated, I could not help thinking, to increase his antagonism, pulled out a good book as if it were a constable's staff and took the whole family into custody. I mean into religious custody, of course; but she really did it as if she were an inexorable moral policeman carrying them all off to a station-house.

Mrs. Pardiggle pulled out a good book as if it were a constable's staff and she were an inexorable policeman carrying them all off to the station.


We both felt intrusive and out of place, and we both thought that Mrs. Pardiggle would have got on infinitely better if she had not had such a mechanical way of taking possession of people.

We both felt intrusive and out of place, and we both thought that Mrs. Pardiggle would have got on much better if she had not had such a mechanical way of taking possession of people.


The children sulked and stared; the family took no notice of us whatever, except when the young man made the dog bark, which he usually did when Mrs. Pardiggle was most emphatic.

The children sulked and stared; while the family took no notice of us whatever.


We both felt painfully sensible that between us and these people there was an iron barrier which could not be removed by our new friend.

We both felt painfully aware that between us and these people there was an iron barrier which could not be removed by our new friend.


By whom or how it could be removed, we did not know, but we knew that.

How it could be removed, we did not know, but we knew that.


Even what she read and said seemed to us to be ill-chosen for such auditors, if it had been imparted ever so modestly and with ever so much tact. As to the little book to which the man on the floor had referred, we acquired a knowledge of it afterwards, and Mr. Jarndyce said he doubted if Robinson Crusoe could have read it, though he had had no other on his desolate island.
We were much relieved, under these circumstances, when Mrs. Pardiggle left off.

Even what Mrs. Pardiggle read seemed ill-chosen for such listeners, and we were relieved when she stopped.


The man on the floor, then turning his head round again, said morosely, "Well!

The man on the floor said morosely, "Well!


I shall come to you again in your regular order," returned Mrs. Pardiggle with demonstrative cheerfulness.

I shall come to you again," returned Mrs. Pardiggle.


"So long as you goes now," said he, folding his arms and shutting his eyes with an oath, "you may do wot you like!"


Mrs. Pardiggle accordingly rose and made a little vortex in the confined room from which the pipe itself very narrowly escaped. Taking one of her young family in each hand, and telling the others to follow closely, and expressing her hope that the brickmaker and all his house would be improved when she saw them next, she then proceeded to another cottage.

Mrs. Pardiggle rose, and expressing her hope that the brickmaker and his house would be improved when she saw them next, she proceeded to another cottage.


I hope it is not unkind in me to say that she certainly did make, in this as in everything else, a show that was not conciliatory of doing charity by wholesale and of dealing in it to a large extent.


She supposed that we were following her, but as soon as the space was left clear, we approached the woman sitting by the fire to ask if the baby were ill.

She supposed that we were following her, but instead, as soon as the space was clear, we approached the woman sitting by the fire to ask if the baby were ill.


She only looked at it as it lay on her lap.


We had observed before that when she looked at it she covered her discoloured eye with her hand, as though she wished to separate any association with noise and violence and ill treatment from the poor little child.


Ada, whose gentle heart was moved by its appearance, bent down to touch its little face.


As she did so, I saw what happened and drew her back.


cried Ada, sinking on her knees beside it.


The suffering, quiet, pretty little thing!


I never saw a sight so pitiful as this before!


Such compassion, such gentleness, as that with which she bent down weeping and put her hand upon the mother's might have softened any mother's heart that ever beat.

Such compassion, such gentleness, as that with which she bent down weeping and put her hand upon the mother's might have softened any mother's heart.


The woman at first gazed at her in astonishment and then burst into tears.

The woman gazed at her in astonishment and then burst into tears.


Presently I took the light burden from her lap, did what I could to make the baby's rest the prettier and gentler, laid it on a shelf, and covered it with my own handkerchief.

Presently I took the light burden from her lap, did what I could to make the baby's rest prettier and gentler, laid it on a shelf, and covered it with my own handkerchief.


We tried to comfort the mother, and we whispered to her what Our Saviour said of children.


She answered nothing, but sat weeping--weeping very much.


When I turned, I found that the young man had taken out the dog and was standing at the door looking in upon us with dry eyes, but quiet.


The girl was quiet too and sat in a corner looking on the ground.


He still smoked his pipe with an air of defiance, but he was silent.


An ugly woman, very poorly clothed, hurried in while I was glancing at them, and coming straight up to the mother, said, "Jenny!


The mother rose on being so addressed and fell upon the woman's neck.

The mother rose and fell upon the woman's neck.


She also had upon her face and arms the marks of ill usage.

She also bore bruises on her face and arms.


She had no kind of grace about her, but the grace of sympathy; but when she condoled with the woman, and her own tears fell, she wanted no beauty.

She had no kind of grace about her but the grace of sympathy.


I say condoled, but her only words were "Jenny!


All the rest was in the tone in which she said them.


I thought it very touching to see these two women, coarse and shabby and beaten, so united; to see what they could be to one another; to see how they felt for one another, how the heart of each to each was softened by the hard trials of their lives.

I thought it very touching to see these two women, coarse and shabby and beaten, so united; to see what they could be to one another; to see how they felt for one another amidst the hard trials of their lives.


I think the best side of such people is almost hidden from us.


What the poor are to the poor is little known, excepting to themselves and God.


We felt it better to withdraw and leave them uninterrupted.

We felt it better to withdraw and leave them.


We stole out quietly and without notice from any one except the man.


He was leaning against the wall near the door, and finding that there was scarcely room for us to pass, went out before us. He seemed to want to hide that he did this on our account, but we perceived that he did, and thanked him.

The man made way for us; he seemed to want to hide that he did this, but we perceived that he did, and thanked him.


Ada was so full of grief all the way home, and Richard, whom we found at home, was so distressed to see her in tears (though he said to me, when she was not present, how beautiful it was too!


), that we arranged to return at night with some little comforts and repeat our visit at the brick-maker's house.

There, Richard was so distressed to see her in tears that we arranged to return at night with some little comforts and repeat our visit at the brick-maker's house.


We said as little as we could to Mr. Jarndyce, but the wind changed directly.


Richard accompanied us at night to the scene of our morning expedition.

Richard accompanied us at night to the scene.


On our way there, we had to pass a noisy drinking-house, where a number of men were flocking about the door.


Among them, and prominent in some dispute, was the father of the little child.


At a short distance, we passed the young man and the dog, in congenial company.


The sister was standing laughing and talking with some other young women at the corner of the row of cottages, but she seemed ashamed and turned away as we went by.


We left our escort within sight of the brickmaker's dwelling and proceeded by ourselves.

We left Richard within sight of the brickmaker's dwelling and proceeded by ourselves.


When we came to the door, we found the woman who had brought such consolation with her standing there looking anxiously out.

At the door, we found the woman who had brought consolation standing there looking anxiously out.


If he was to catch me away from home, he'd pretty near murder me."


She's scarcely had the child off her lap, poor thing, these seven days and nights, except when I've been able to take it for a minute or two."


As she gave way for us, she went softly in and put what we had brought near the miserable bed on which the mother slept.

She went softly in and put what we had brought near the miserable bed on which the mother slept.


No effort had been made to clean the room--it seemed in its nature almost hopeless of being clean; but the small waxen form from which so much solemnity diffused itself had been composed afresh, and washed, and neatly dressed in some fragments of white linen; and on my handkerchief, which still covered the poor baby, a little bunch of sweet herbs had been laid by the same rough, scarred hands, so lightly, so tenderly!

No effort had been made to clean the room; but the small waxen form had been washed, and neatly dressed in some fragments of white linen; and on my handkerchief, which still covered the poor baby, a little bunch of sweet herbs had been laid.


The mother had moaned in her sleep and moved.


The sound of the familiar voice seemed to calm her again. She was quiet once more.

The sound of the familiar voice seemed to calm her, and she was quiet once more.


How little I thought, when I raised my handkerchief to look upon the tiny sleeper underneath and seemed to see a halo shine around the child through Ada's drooping hair as her pity bent her head--how little I thought in whose unquiet bosom that handkerchief would come to lie after covering the motionless and peaceful breast!

How little I thought, when I raised my handkerchief to look upon the tiny sleeper - how little I thought in whose unquiet bosom that handkerchief would come to lie, after covering the motionless and peaceful breast!


I only thought that perhaps the Angel of the child might not be all unconscious of the woman who replaced it with so compassionate a hand; not all unconscious of her presently, when we had taken leave, and left her at the door, by turns looking, and listening in terror for herself, and saying in her old soothing manner, "Jenny, Jenny!"

The woman replaced it with a compassionate hand; we left her at the door, by turns looking and listening in terror for her husband, and saying in her soothing manner, "Jenny, Jenny!"


Mr. Bucket and his fat forefinger are much in consultation together under existing circumstances.

Mr. Bucket and his fat forefinger are much in consultation together at present.


When Mr. Bucket has a matter of this pressing interest under his consideration, the fat forefinger seems to rise, to the dignity of a familiar demon.

When Mr. Bucket is considering a matter of this pressing interest, the fat forefinger is in frequent use.


He puts it to his ears, and it whispers information; he puts it to his lips, and it enjoins him to secrecy; he rubs it over his nose, and it sharpens his scent; he shakes it before a guilty man, and it charms him to his destruction.

He puts it to his ears; he puts it to his lips; he rubs it over his nose; he shakes it before a guilty man.


The Augurs of the Detective Temple invariably predict that when Mr. Bucket and that finger are in much conference, a terrible avenger will be heard of before long.


Otherwise mildly studious in his observation of human nature, on the whole a benignant philosopher not disposed to be severe upon the follies of mankind, Mr. Bucket pervades a vast number of houses and strolls about an infinity of streets, to outward appearance rather languishing for want of an object.


He is in the friendliest condition towards his species and will drink with most of them.

He is in the friendliest condition towards others and will drink with most of them.


He is free with his money, affable in his manners, innocent in his conversation--but through the placid stream of his life there glides an under-current of forefinger.

He is free with his money, affable in his manners, innocent in his conversation - but through the placid stream of his life there glides an under-current of forefinger.


Time and place cannot bind Mr. Bucket. Like man in the abstract, he is here to-day and gone to-morrow--but, very unlike man indeed, he is here again the next day.

Mr. Bucket is here today and gone tomorrow - and then here again the next day.


This evening he will be casually looking into the iron extinguishers at the door of Sir Leicester Dedlock's house in town; and to-morrow morning he will be walking on the leads at Chesney Wold, where erst the old man walked whose ghost is propitiated with a hundred guineas.

This evening he will be casually looking past the door of Sir Leicester Dedlock's house in town; and tomorrow morning he will be walking on the turrets at Chesney Wold, where once the deceased old man walked.


Drawers, desks, pockets, all things belonging to him, Mr. Bucket examines.

Drawers, desks, pockets, all things belonging to Tulkinghorn, Mr. Bucket examines.


A few hours afterwards, he and the Roman will be alone together comparing forefingers.


It is likely that these occupations are irreconcilable with home enjoyment, but it is certain that Mr. Bucket at present does not go home.


Though in general he highly appreciates the society of Mrs. Bucket--a lady of a natural detective genius, which if it had been improved by professional exercise, might have done great things, but which has paused at the level of a clever amateur--he holds himself aloof from that dear solace.

Though in general he highly appreciates the society of Mrs. Bucket - a lady of a natural detective genius, which if it had been improved by professional exercise, might have done great things, but which has paused at the level of a clever amateur - he holds himself aloof for now.


Mrs. Bucket is dependent on their lodger (fortunately an amiable lady in whom she takes an interest) for companionship and conversation.

Mrs. Bucket is dependent on their lodger (fortunately an amiable lady in whom she takes an interest) for companionship.


A great crowd assembles in Lincoln's Inn Fields on the day of the funeral.


Sir Leicester Dedlock attends the ceremony in person; strictly speaking, there are only three other human followers, that is to say, Lord Doodle, William Buffy, and the debilitated cousin (thrown in as a make-weight), but the amount of inconsolable carriages is immense.

Sir Leicester Dedlock attends; there are only three other human followers, but the amount of inconsolable carriages is immense.


The peerage contributes more four-wheeled affliction than has ever been seen in that neighbourhood.


Such is the assemblage of armorial bearings on coach panels that the Herald's College might be supposed to have lost its father and mother at a blow.


The Duke of Foodle sends a splendid pile of dust and ashes, with silver wheel-boxes, patent axles, all the last improvements, and three bereaved worms, six feet high, holding on behind, in a bunch of woe.


All the state coachmen in London seem plunged into mourning; and if that dead old man of the rusty garb be not beyond a taste in horseflesh (which appears impossible), it must be highly gratified this day.

All the state coachmen in London seem plunged into mourning.


Quiet among the undertakers and the equipages and the calves of so many legs all steeped in grief, Mr. Bucket sits concealed in one of the inconsolable carriages and at his ease surveys the crowd through the lattice blinds.

Quiet among the undertakers, Mr. Bucket sits concealed in one of the inconsolable carriages and at his ease surveys the crowd keenly through the blinds.


He has a keen eye for a crowd--as for what not?--and looking here and there, now from this side of the carriage, now from the other, now up at the house windows, now along the people's heads, nothing escapes him.

He looks here and there, up and down, now at the house windows, now along the people's heads; nothing escapes him.


says Mr. Bucket to himself, apostrophizing Mrs. Bucket, stationed, by his favour, on the steps of the deceased's house.

says Mr. Bucket to himself, meaning Mrs. Bucket, stationed, by his favour, on the steps of the deceased's house.


"And very well indeed you are looking, Mrs. Bucket!"


The procession has not started yet, but is waiting for the cause of its assemblage to be brought out.

The procession has not started yet, but is waiting for the coffin to be brought out.


Mr. Bucket, in the foremost emblazoned carriage, uses his two fat forefingers to hold the lattice a hair's breadth open while he looks.

Mr. Bucket uses his two fat forefingers to hold the window a hair's breadth open while he looks.


And it says a great deal for his attachment, as a husband, that he is still occupied with Mrs. B.

And it says a great deal for his attachment as a husband, that he is still occupied with Mrs. B.


I'm taking notice of you, Mrs. Bucket; I hope you're all right in your health, my dear!"

I see you, Mrs. Bucket; I hope you're well, my dear!"


Not another word does Mr. Bucket say, but sits with most attentive eyes until the sacked depository of noble secrets is brought down--Where are all those secrets now? Does he keep them yet? Did they fly with him on that sudden journey?--and until the procession moves, and Mr. Bucket's view is changed.

Not another word does Mr. Bucket say, but sits with most attentive eyes until the coffin is brought down and the procession moves, and his view is changed.


After which he composes himself for an easy ride and takes note of the fittings of the carriage in case he should ever find such knowledge useful.


Contrast enough between Mr. Tulkinghorn shut up in his dark carriage and Mr. Bucket shut up in HIS.


Between the immeasurable track of space beyond the little wound that has thrown the one into the fixed sleep which jolts so heavily over the stones of the streets, and the narrow track of blood which keeps the other in the watchful state expressed in every hair of his head!


But it is all one to both; neither is troubled about that.


Mr. Bucket sits out the procession in his own easy manner and glides from the carriage when the opportunity he has settled with himself arrives.

Mr. Bucket glides from the carriage when the right opportunity arrives.


He makes for Sir Leicester Dedlock's, which is at present a sort of home to him, where he comes and goes as he likes at all hours, where he is always welcome and made much of, where he knows the whole establishment, and walks in an atmosphere of mysterious greatness.

He makes for Sir Leicester Dedlock's, which is at present a sort of home to him, where he comes and goes as he likes at all hours, where he is always welcome, and walks in an atmosphere of mysterious greatness.


He has caused himself to be provided with a key and can pass in at his pleasure.

Mr. Bucket has a key and can pass in at his pleasure.


As he is crossing the hall, Mercury informs him, "Here's another letter for you, Mr. Bucket, come by post," and gives it him.

As he is crossing the hall, a footman informs him, "Here's another letter for you, Mr. Bucket, come by post."


If Mercury should chance to be possessed by any lingering curiosity as to Mr. Bucket's letters, that wary person is not the man to gratify it.


Mr. Bucket looks at him as if his face were a vista of some miles in length and he were leisurely contemplating the same.


Unfortunately Mercury is no snuff-taker.


"Could you fetch me a pinch from anywheres?"


It don't matter what it is; I'm not particular as to the kind.


Having leisurely helped himself from a canister borrowed from somebody downstairs for the purpose, and having made a considerable show of tasting it, first with one side of his nose and then with the other, Mr. Bucket, with much deliberation, pronounces it of the right sort and goes on, letter in hand.


Now although Mr. Bucket walks upstairs to the little library within the larger one with the face of a man who receives some scores of letters every day, it happens that much correspondence is not incidental to his life.

Now although Mr. Bucket walks upstairs to a little room in the library with the face of a man who receives scores of letters every day, his life does not involve much correspondence.


He is no great scribe, rather handling his pen like the pocket-staff he carries about with him always convenient to his grasp, and discourages correspondence with himself in others as being too artless and direct a way of doing delicate business.

He is no great scribe, and discourages letters from others as being too artless and direct a way of doing delicate business.


Further, he often sees damaging letters produced in evidence and has occasion to reflect that it was a green thing to write them.

He often sees damaging letters produced in evidence and reflects that it was naive to write them.


For these reasons he has very little to do with letters, either as sender or receiver.


And yet he has received a round half-dozen within the last twenty-four hours.

And yet he has received half-a-dozen within the last twenty-four hours.


"And this," says Mr. Bucket, spreading it out on the table, "is in the same hand, and consists of the same two words."


He turns the key in the door, ungirdles his black pocket-book (book of fate to many), lays another letter by it, and reads, boldly written in each, "Lady Dedlock."

He locks the door, takes out his black pocket-book, lays another letter by it, and reads, boldly written in each: "Lady Dedlock."


"But I could have made the money without this anonymous information."


Having put the letters in his book of fate and girdled it up again, he unlocks the door just in time to admit his dinner, which is brought upon a goodly tray with a decanter of sherry.

Having put the letters in his book, he unlocks the door just in time to admit his dinner, which is brought in with a decanter of sherry.


Mr. Bucket frequently observes, in friendly circles where there is no restraint, that he likes a toothful of your fine old brown East Inder sherry better than anything you can offer him.


Consequently he fills and empties his glass with a smack of his lips and is proceeding with his refreshment when an idea enters his mind.

Mr. Bucket fills and empties his glass with a smack of his lips and is proceeding with his refreshment when an idea enters his mind.


Mr. Bucket softly opens the door of communication between that room and the next and looks in.

Mr. Bucket softly opens the door between that room and the next and looks in.


The library is deserted, and the fire is sinking low.


Mr. Bucket's eye, after taking a pigeon-flight round the room, alights upon a table where letters are usually put as they arrive.

Mr. Bucket's eye alights upon a table where letters are usually put as they arrive.


Several letters for Sir Leicester are upon it.


Mr. Bucket draws near and examines the directions.


"No," he says, "there's none in that hand.


I can break it to Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, to-morrow."

I can break it to Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, tomorrow."


With that he returns to finish his dinner with a good appetite, and after a light nap, is summoned into the drawing-room.


Sir Leicester has received him there these several evenings past to know whether he has anything to report.


The debilitated cousin (much exhausted by the funeral) and Volumnia are in attendance.

The debilitated cousin and Volumnia are in attendance.


Mr. Bucket makes three distinctly different bows to these three people.


A bow of homage to Sir Leicester, a bow of gallantry to Volumnia, and a bow of recognition to the debilitated Cousin, to whom it airily says, "You are a swell about town, and you know me, and I know you."


Having distributed these little specimens of his tact, Mr. Bucket rubs his hands.


"Have you anything new to communicate, officer?"


"Do you wish to hold any conversation with me in private?"


"Why--not to-night, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet."

"Not tonight, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet."


"Because my time," pursues Sir Leicester, "is wholly at your disposal with a view to the vindication of the outraged majesty of the law."


Mr. Bucket coughs and glances at Volumnia, rouged and necklaced, as though he would respectfully observe, "I do assure you, you're a pretty creetur.

Mr. Bucket coughs and glances at Volumnia, rouged and necklaced, as though to respectfully observe, "I do assure you, you're a pretty creetur.


I've seen hundreds worse looking at your time of life, I have indeed."


The fair Volumnia, not quite unconscious perhaps of the humanizing influence of her charms, pauses in the writing of cocked-hat notes and meditatively adjusts the pearl necklace.

The fair Volumnia pauses in her writing to adjust the pearl necklace.


Mr. Bucket prices that decoration in his mind and thinks it as likely as not that Volumnia is writing poetry.


"If I have not," pursues Sir Leicester, "in the most emphatic manner, adjured you, officer, to exercise your utmost skill in this atrocious case, I particularly desire to take the present opportunity of rectifying any omission I may have made.

"I am prepared to defray all costs," pursues Sir Leicester, "to enable you to exercise your utmost skill in this atrocious case.


You can incur none in pursuit of the object you have undertaken that I shall hesitate for a moment to bear."


Mr. Bucket made Sir Leicester's bow again as a response to this liberality.


"My mind," Sir Leicester adds with a generous warmth, "has not, as may be easily supposed, recovered its tone since the late diabolical occurrence.


It is not likely ever to recover its tone.


But it is full of indignation to-night after undergoing the ordeal of consigning to the tomb the remains of a faithful, a zealous, a devoted adherent."


Sir Leicester's voice trembles and his grey hair stirs upon his head.


Tears are in his eyes; the best part of his nature is aroused.


"I declare," he says, "I solemnly declare that until this crime is discovered and, in the course of justice, punished, I almost feel as if there were a stain upon my name.

"I declare," says Sir Leicester, his voice trembling and tears in his eyes, "I solemnly declare that until this crime is solved and punished, I almost feel as if there were a stain upon my name.


A gentleman who has devoted a large portion of his life to me, a gentleman who has devoted the last day of his life to me, a gentleman who has constantly sat at my table and slept under my roof, goes from my house to his own, and is struck down within an hour of his leaving my house.

A gentleman who has devoted a large portion of his life to me, who has sat at my table and slept under my roof, is struck down within an hour of his leaving my house.


I cannot say but that he may have been followed from my house, watched at my house, even first marked because of his association with my house--which may have suggested his possessing greater wealth and being altogether of greater importance than his own retiring demeanour would have indicated.

He may have been followed from my house, even marked because of his association with my house - which may have suggested his possessing greater wealth than his own appearance would have indicated.


If I cannot with my means and influence and my position bring all the perpetrators of such a crime to light, I fail in the assertion of my respect for that gentleman's memory and of my fidelity towards one who was ever faithful to me."

If I cannot with my influence bring the perpetrators of the crime to light, I fail in my respect for that gentleman's memory."


While he makes this protestation with great emotion and earnestness, looking round the room as if he were addressing an assembly, Mr. Bucket glances at him with an observant gravity in which there might be, but for the audacity of the thought, a touch of compassion.

While he says this with great emotion, Mr. Bucket glances at him with an observant gravity in which there might be a touch of compassion.


"The ceremony of to-day," continues Sir Leicester, "strikingly illustrative of the respect in which my deceased friend"--he lays a stress upon the word, for death levels all distinctions--"was held by the flower of the land, has, I say, aggravated the shock I have received from this most horrible and audacious crime.


If it were my brother who had committed it, I would not spare him."

"If it were my brother who had committed this horrible and audacious crime," continues Sir Leicester, "I would not spare him."


Volumnia remarks of the deceased that he was the trustiest and dearest person!


"You must feel it as a deprivation to you, miss," replies Mr. Bucket soothingly, "no doubt.

"You must feel it as a deprivation to you, miss," replies Mr. Bucket soothingly.


He was calculated to BE a deprivation, I'm sure he was."


Volumnia gives Mr. Bucket to understand, in reply, that her sensitive mind is fully made up never to get the better of it as long as she lives, that her nerves are unstrung for ever, and that she has not the least expectation of ever smiling again.

Volumnia indicates that her sensitive mind is fully made up never to get over it, that her nerves are unstrung for ever, and that she does not expect ever to smile again.


Meanwhile she folds up a cocked hat for that redoubtable old general at Bath, descriptive of her melancholy condition.


"It gives a start to a delicate female," says Mr. Bucket sympathetically, "but it'll wear off."


Volumnia wishes of all things to know what is doing?


Whether they are going to convict, or whatever it is, that dreadful soldier?

Are they are going to convict, or whatever it is, that dreadful soldier?


Whether he had any accomplices, or whatever the thing is called in the law?

Did he have any accomplices, or whatever the thing is called?


And a great deal more to the like artless purpose.


"Why you see, miss," returns Mr. Bucket, bringing the finger into persuasive action--and such is his natural gallantry that he had almost said "my dear"--"it ain't easy to answer those questions at the present moment.

"Why you see, miss," returns Mr. Bucket, bringing the finger into persuasive action, "it ain't easy to answer those questions.


I've kept myself on this case, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," whom Mr. Bucket takes into the conversation in right of his importance, "morning, noon, and night.

I've kept myself on this case, morning, noon, and night.


But for a glass or two of sherry, I don't think I could have had my mind so much upon the stretch as it has been.


I COULD answer your questions, miss, but duty forbids it.

I could answer your questions, miss, but duty forbids it.


Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, will very soon be made acquainted with all that has been traced.


And I hope that he may find it"--Mr. Bucket again looks grave--"to his satisfaction."

And I hope that he may find it" - Mr. Bucket again looks grave - "to his satisfaction."


The debilitated cousin only hopes some fler'll be executed--zample.

The debilitated cousin only hopes some fella'll be executed - zample.


Thinks more interest's wanted--get man hanged presentime--than get man place ten thousand a year.


Hasn't a doubt--zample--far better hang wrong fler than no fler.

Far better hang wrong fella than no fella.


"YOU know life, you know, sir," says Mr. Bucket with a complimentary twinkle of his eye and crook of his finger, "and you can confirm what I've mentioned to this lady.


YOU don't want to be told that from information I have received I have gone to work.


You're up to what a lady can't be expected to be up to.


Especially in your elevated station of society, miss," says Mr. Bucket, quite reddening at another narrow escape from "my dear."


"The officer, Volumnia," observes Sir Leicester, "is faithful to his duty, and perfectly right."


Mr. Bucket murmurs, "Glad to have the honour of your approbation, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet."


"In fact, Volumnia," proceeds Sir Leicester, "it is not holding up a good model for imitation to ask the officer any such questions as you have put to him.

"In fact, Volumnia," proceeds Sir Leicester, "it is not advisable to ask the officer any such questions.


He is the best judge of his own responsibility; he acts upon his responsibility.

He is the best judge of his own responsibility.


And it does not become us, who assist in making the laws, to impede or interfere with those who carry them into execution.

And it does not become us, who assist in making the laws, to interfere with those who carry them into execution."


Or," says Sir Leicester somewhat sternly, for Volumnia was going to cut in before he had rounded his sentence, "or who vindicate their outraged majesty."


Volumnia with all humility explains that she had not merely the plea of curiosity to urge (in common with the giddy youth of her sex in general) but that she is perfectly dying with regret and interest for the darling man whose loss they all deplore.


"Very well, Volumnia," returns Sir Leicester.


Mr. Bucket takes the opportunity of a pause to be heard again.
"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I have no objections to telling this lady, with your leave and among ourselves, that I look upon the case as pretty well complete.

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," says Mr. Bucket, "I have no objections to telling this lady, with your leave, that I look upon the case as pretty well complete.


It is a beautiful case--a beautiful case--and what little is wanting to complete it, I expect to be able to supply in a few hours."

It is a beautiful case, and what little is wanting to complete it, I expect to be able to supply in a few hours."


"I am very glad indeed to hear it," says Sir Leicester.


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," returns Mr. Bucket very seriously, "I hope it may at one and the same time do me credit and prove satisfactory to all.

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," returns Mr. Bucket very seriously, "I hope it may do me credit and prove satisfactory to all.


When I depict it as a beautiful case, you see, miss," Mr. Bucket goes on, glancing gravely at Sir Leicester, "I mean from my point of view.

When I depict it as a beautiful case, you see, miss," he goes on, "I mean from my point of view.


As considered from other points of view, such cases will always involve more or less unpleasantness.

As considered from other points of view, such cases will always involve some unpleasantness.


Very strange things comes to our knowledge in families, miss; bless your heart, what you would think to be phenomenons, quite."

Very strange things come to our knowledge in families, miss."


Volumnia, with her innocent little scream, supposes so.


"Aye, and even in gen-teel families, in high families, in great families," says Mr. Bucket, again gravely eyeing Sir Leicester aside.

"Aye, even in high families, in great families," says Mr. Bucket, gravely eyeing Sir Leicester.


"I have had the honour of being employed in high families before, and you have no idea--come, I'll go so far as to say not even YOU have any idea, sir," this to the debilitated cousin, "what games goes on!"


The cousin, who has been casting sofa-pillows on his head, in a prostration of boredom yawns, "Vayli," being the used-up for "very likely."


Sir Leicester, deeming it time to dismiss the officer, here majestically interposes with the words, "Very good.

Sir Leicester, deeming it time to dismiss the officer, here majestically interposes with, "Very good.


and also with a wave of his hand, implying not only that there is an end of the discourse, but that if high families fall into low habits they must take the consequences.


"You will not forget, officer," he adds with condescension, "that I am at your disposal when you please."


Mr. Bucket (still grave) inquires if to-morrow morning, now, would suit, in case he should be as for'ard as he expects to be.

Mr. Bucket (still grave) inquires if tomorrow morning would suit, if he is then as for'ard as he expects to be.


Sir Leicester replies, "All times are alike to me."


Mr. Bucket makes his three bows and is withdrawing when a forgotten point occurs to him.

Mr. Bucket bows and is withdrawing when a forgotten point occurs to him.


"Might I ask, by the by," he says in a low voice, cautiously returning, "who posted the reward-bill on the staircase."

"Might I ask, by the by, who posted the reward-bill on the staircase?"


"I ordered it to be put up there," replies Sir Leicester.


"Would it be considered a liberty, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, if I was to ask you why?"


I chose it as a conspicuous part of the house.


I think it cannot be too prominently kept before the whole establishment.


I wish my people to be impressed with the enormity of the crime, the determination to punish it, and the hopelessness of escape."


At the same time, officer, if you in your better knowledge of the subject see any objection--"


Mr. Bucket sees none now; the bill having been put up, had better not be taken down. Repeating his three bows he withdraws, closing the door on Volumnia's little scream, which is a preliminary to her remarking that that charmingly horrible person is a perfect Blue Chamber.

Mr. Bucket repeats his bows and withdraws.


In his fondness for society and his adaptability to all grades, Mr. Bucket is presently standing before the hall-fire--bright and warm on the early winter night--admiring Mercury.

Soon he is standing before the bright hall-fire, admiring the footman.


But then, you see, you're broad in proportion and don't look it.


You're not one of the weak-legged ones, you ain't.


Mr. Bucket asks, conveying the expression of an artist into the turn of his eye and head.


"Then you ought to be, you know," says Mr. Bucket; "and a friend of mine that you'll hear of one day as a Royal Academy sculptor would stand something handsome to make a drawing of your proportions for the marble.

A Royal Academy sculptor would pay something handsome to make a drawing of your proportions for the marble.


"Goes out pretty well every day, don't she?"


"Such a fine woman as her, so handsome and so graceful and so elegant, is like a fresh lemon on a dinner-table, ornamental wherever she goes.


Was your father in the same way of life as yourself?"


"My father was first a page, then a footman, then a butler, then a steward, then an inn-keeper.


Lived universally respected, and died lamented.


Said with his last breath that he considered service the most honourable part of his career, and so it was.


I've a brother in service, AND a brother-in-law.


Mercury replies, "As good as you can expect."


What can you anticipate when they're so handsome as that?


And we like 'em all the better for it, don't we?"


Mercury, with his hands in the pockets of his bright peach-blossom small-clothes, stretches his symmetrical silk legs with the air of a man of gallantry and can't deny it.

The footman, with his hands in his pockets, can't deny it.


Come the roll of wheels and a violent ringing at the bell.


The doors are thrown open, and she passes through the hall.


Still very pale, she is dressed in slight mourning and wears two beautiful bracelets.


Either their beauty or the beauty of her arms is particularly attractive to Mr. Bucket.


He looks at them with an eager eye and rattles something in his pocket--halfpence perhaps.


Noticing him at his distance, she turns an inquiring look on the other Mercury who has brought her home.

Noticing him, she turns an inquiring look on the manservant.


Mr. Bucket makes a leg and comes forward, passing his familiar demon over the region of his mouth.

Mr. Bucket bows and comes forward, passing his forefinger over his mouth.


She scarcely makes a stop, and sweeps upstairs alone.


Mr. Bucket, moving towards the staircase-foot, watches her as she goes up the steps the old man came down to his grave, past murderous groups of statuary repeated with their shadowy weapons on the wall, past the printed bill, which she looks at going by, out of view.

Mr. Bucket watches her as she goes up the steps, past the printed bill, which she looks at going by, and out of view.