andmaking
several
absent
eudeavours
to
put
his
candlestick
in
his
pocket
.
“
I
—
here
!
Take
it
away
,
my
dear
.
I
do
n't
know
what
I
am
about
with
it
;
it
's
all
the
wind
—
invariably
has
that
effect
—
I
wo
n't
press
you
,
Rick
;
you
may
be
right
.
But
,
really
—
to
get
hold
of
you
and
Esther
—
and
to
squeeze
you
like
a
couple
of
tender
young
Saint
Michael
's
oranges
!
—
It
'll
blow
a
gale
in
the
course
of
the
night
!
”
He
was
now
alternately
putting
his
hands
into
his
pockets
,
as
if
he
were
going
to
keep
them
there
a
long
time
;
and
taking
them
out
again
,
and
vehemently
rubbing
them
all
over
his
head
.
I
ventured
to
take
this
opportunity
of
hinting
that
Mr.
Skimpole
,
being
in
all
such
matters
,
quite
a
child
—
“
Eh
,
my
dear
?
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
catching
at
the
word
.
“
—
Being
quite
a
child
,
sir
,
”
said
I
,
“
and
so
different
from
other
people
—
”
“
You
are
right
!
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
brightening
.
“
Your
woman
's
wit
hits
the
mark
.
He
is
a
child
—
an
absolute
child
.
I
told
you
he
was
a
child
,
you
know
,
when
I
first
mentioned
him
.
”
Certainly
!
certainly
!
we
said
.
“
And
he
is
a
child
.
Now
,
is
n't
he
?
”
asked
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
brightening
more
and
more
.
He
was
indeed
,
we
said
.
“
When
you
come
to
think
of
it
,
it
's
the
height
of
childishness
in
you
—
I
mean
me
—
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
“
to
regard
him
for
a
moment
as
a
man
.
You
ca
n't
make
him
responsible
.
The
idea
of
Harold
Skimpole
with
designs
or
plans
,
or
knowledge
of
consequences
!
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
!
”
It
was
so
delicious
to
see
the
clouds
about
his
bright
face
clearing
,
and
to
see
him
so
heartily
pleased
,
and
to
know
,
as
it
was
impossible
not
to
know
,
that
the
source
of
his
pleasure
was
the
goodness
which
was
tortured
by
condemning
,
or
mistrusting
,
or
secretly
accusing
any
one
,
that
I
saw
the
tears
in
Ada
's
eyes
while
she
echoed
his
laugh
,
and
felt
them
in
my
own
.
“
Why
,
what
a
cod
's
head
and
shoulders
I
am
,
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
“
to
require
reminding
of
it
!
The
whole
business
shows
the
child
from
beginning
to
end
.
Nobody
but
a
child
would
have
thought
of
singling
you
two
out
for
parties
in
the
affair
!
Nobody
but
a
child
would
have
thought
of
your
having
the
money
!
If
it
had
been
a
thousand
pounds
,
it
would
have
been
just
the
same
!
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
with
his
whole
face
in
a
glow
.
We
all
confirmed
it
from
our
night
's
experience
.
“
To
be
sure
,
to
be
sure
!
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
.
“
However
,
Rick
,
Esther
,
and
you
too
,
Ada
,
for
I
do
n't
know
that
even
your
little
purse
is
safe
from
his
inexperience
—
I
must
have
a
promise
all
round
,
that
nothing
of
this
sort
shall
ever
be
done
any
more
.
No
advances
!
Not
even
sixpences
.
”
We
all
promised
faithfully
;
Richard
,
with
a
merry
glance
at
me
,
touching
his
pocket
,
as
if
to
remind
me
that
there
was
no
danger
of
our
transgressing
.
“
As
to
Skimpole
,
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
“
a
habitable
doll
's
house
,
with
good
board
,
and
a
few
tin
people
to
get
into
debt
with
and
borrow
money
of
,
would
set
the
boy
up
in
life
.
He
is
in
a
child
's
sleep
by
this
time
,
I
suppose
;
it
's
time
I
should
take
my
craftier
head
to
my
more
worldly
pillow
.
Good
night
,
my
dears
.
God
bless
you
!
”
He
peeped
in
again
,
with
a
smiling
face
,
before
we
had
lighted
our
candles
,
and
said
,
“
O
!
I
have
been
looking
at
the
weather-cock
.
I
find
it
was
a
false
alarm
about
the
wind
.
It
's
in
the
south
!
”
And
went
away
,
singing
to
himself
.
Ada
and
I
agreed
,
as
we
talked
together
for
a
little
while
upstairs
,
that
this
caprice
about
the
wind
was
a
fiction
;
and
that
he
used
the
pretence
to
account
for
any
disappointment
he
could
not
conceal
,
rather
than
he
would
blame
the
real
cause
of
it
,
or
disparage
or
depreciate
any
one
.
We
thought
this
very
characteristic
of
his
eccentric
gentleness
;
and
of
the
difference
between
him
and
those
petulant
people
who
make
the
weather
and
the
winds
(
particularly
that
unlucky
wind
which
he
had
chosen
for
such
a
different
purpose
)
the
stalking-horses
of
their
splenetic
and
gloomy
humours
.
Indeed
,
so
much
affection
for
him
had
been
added
in
this
one
evening
to
my
gratitude
,
that
I
hoped
I
already
began
to
understand
him
through
that
mingled
feeling
.
Any
seeming
inconsistencies
in
Mr.
Skimpole
,
or
in
Mrs.
Jellyby
,
I
could
not
expect
to
be
able
to
reconcile
;
having
so
little
experience
or
practical
knowledge
.
Neither
did
I
try
;
for
my
thoughts
were
busy
when
I
was
alone
,
with
Ada
and
Richard
,
and
with
the
confidence
I
had
seemed
to
receive
concerning
them
.
My
fancy
,
made
a
little
wild
by
the
wind
perhaps
,
would
not
consent
to
be
all
unselfish
either
,
though
I
would
have
persuaded
it
to
be
so
if
I
could
.
It
wandered
back
to
my
godmother
's
house
,
and
came
along
the
intervening
track
,
raising
up
shadowy
speculations
which
had
sometimes
trembled
there
in
the
dark
,
as
to
what
knowledge
Mr.
Jarndyce
had
of
my
earliest
history
—
even
as
to
the
possibility
of
his
being
my
father
—
though
that
idle
dream
was
quite
gone
now
.
It
was
all
gone
now
,
I
remembered
,
getting
up
from
the
fire
.
It
was
not
for
me
to
muse
over
bygones
,
but
to
act
with
a
cheerful
spirit
and
a
grateful
heart
.
So
I
said
to
myself
,
“
Esther
,
Esther
,
Esther
!
Duty
,
my
dear
!
”
and
gave
my
little
basket
of
housekeeping
keys
such
a
shake
,
that
they
sounded
like
little
bells
,
and
rang
me
hopefully
to
bed
.
CHAPTER
VII
.
THE
GHOST
'S
WALK
.
WHILE
Esther
sleeps
,
and
while
Esther
wakes
,
it
is
still
wet
weather
down
at
the
place
in
Lincolnshire
.
The
rain
is
ever
falling
,
drip
,
drip
,
drip
,
by
day
and
night
,
upon
the
broad
flagged
terrace-pavement
,
The
Ghost
's
Walk
.
The
weather
is
so
very
bad
,
down
in
Lincolnshire
,
that
the
liveliest
imagination
can
scarcely
apprehend
its
ever
being
fine
again
.
Not
that
there
is
any
superabundant
life
of
imagination
on
the
spot
,
for
Sir
Leicester
is
not
here
(
and
,
truly
,
even
if
he
were
,
would
not
do
much
for
it
in
that
particular
)
,
but
is
in
Paris
,
with
my
Lady
;
and
solitude
,
with
dusky
wings
,
sits
brooding
upon
Chesney
Wold
.
There
may
be
some
motions
of
fancy
among
the
lower
animals
at
Chesney
Wold
.
The
horses
in
the
stables
—
the
long
stables
in
a
barren
,
red-brick
courtyard
,
where
there
is
a
great
bell
in
a
turret
,
and
a
clock
with
a
large
face
,
which
the
pigeons
who
live
near
it
,
and
who
love
to
perch
upon
its
shoulders
,
seem
to
be
always
consulting
—
they
may
contemplate
some
mental
pictures
of
fine
weather
,
on
occasions
,
and
may
be
better
artists
at
them
than
the
grooms
.
The
old
roan
,
so
famous
for
cross-country
work
,
turning
his
large
eyeball
to
the
grated
window
near
his
rack
,
may
remember
the
fresh
leaves
that
glisten
there
at
other
times
,
and
the
scents
that
stream
in
,
and
may
have
a
fine
run
with
the
hounds
,
while
the
human
helper
,
clearing
out
the
next
stall
,
never
stirs
beyond
his
pitchfork
and
birch-broom
.
The
grey
,
whose
place
is
opposite
the
door
,
and
who
,
with
an
impatient
rattle
of
his
halter
,
pricks
his
ears
and
turns
his
head
so
wistfully
when
it
is
opened
;
and
to
whom
the
opener
says
,
“
Woa
grey
,
then
,
steady
!
Noabody
wants
you
to-day
!
”
may
know
it
quite
as
well
as
the
man
.
The
whole
seemingly
monotonous
and
uncompanionable
half-dozen
,
stabled
together
,
may
pass
the
long
wet
hours
,
when
the
door
is
shut
,
in
livelier
communication
than
is
held
in
the
servants
'
hall
,
or
at
the
Dedlock
Arms
;
—
or
may
even
beguile
the
time
by
improving
(
perhaps
corrupting
)
the
pony
in
the
loose-box
in
the
corner
.
So
,
the
mastiff
,
dozing
in
his
kennel
,
in
the
courtyard
,
with
his
large
head
on
his
paws
,
may
think
of
the
hot
sunshine
,
when
the
shadows
of
the
stable-buildings
tire
his
patience
out
by
changing
,
and
leave
him
,
at
one
time
of
the
day
,
no
broader
refuge
than
the
shadow
of
his
own
house
,
where
he
sits
on
end
,
panting
and
growling
short
,
and
very
much
wanting
something
to
worry
,
besides
himself
and
his
chain
.
So
,
now
,
half-waking
and
all-winking
,
he
may
recal
the
house
full
of
company
,
the
coach-houses
full
of
vehicles
,
the
stables
full
of
horses
,
and
the
out-buildings
full
of
attendants
upon
horses
,
until
he
is
undecided
about
the
present
,
and
comes
forth
to
see
how
it
is
.
Then
,
with
that
impatient
shake
of
himself
,
he
may
growl
,
in
the
spirit
,
“
Rain
,
rain
,
rain
!
Nothing
but
rain
,
—
and
no
family
here
!
”
as
he
goes
in
again
,
and
lies
down
with
a
gloomy
yawn
.
So
with
the
dogs
in
the
kennel-buildings
across
the
park
,
who
have
their
restless
fits
,
and
whose
doleful
voices
,
when
the
wind
has
been
very
obstinate
,
have
even
made
it
known
in
the
house
itself
:
up
stairs
,
down
stairs
,
and
in
my
lady
's
chamber
.
They
may
hunt
the
whole
country-side
,
while
the
rain-drops
are
pattering
round
their
inactivity
.
So
the
rabbits
with
their
self-betraying
tails
,
frisking
in
and
out
of
holes
at
roots
of
trees
,
may
be
lively
with
ideas
of
the
breezy
days
when
their
ears
are
blown
about
,
or
of
those
seasons
of
interest
when
there
are
sweet
young
plants
to
gnaw
.
The
turkey
in
the
poultry-yard
,
always
troubled
with
a
class-grievance
(
probably
Christmas
)
,
may
be
reminiscent
of
that
summer-morning
wrongfully
taken
from
him
,
when
he
got
into
the
lane
among
the
felled
trees
,
where
there
was
a
barn
and
barley
.
The
discontented
goose
,
who
stoops
to
pass
under
the
old
gateway
,
twenty
feet
high
,
may
gabble
out
,
if
we
only
knew
it
,
a
waddling
preference
for
weather
when
the
gateway
casts
its
shadow
on
the
ground
.
Be
this
as
it
may
,
there
is
not
much
fancy
otherwise
stirring
at
Chesney
Wold
.
If
there
be
a
little
at
any
odd
moment
,
it
goes
,
like
a
little
noise
in
that
old
echoing
place
,
a
long
way
,
and
usually
leads
off
to
ghosts
and
mystery
.
It
has
rained
so
hard
and
rained
so
long
,
down
in
Lincolnshire
,
that
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
the
old
housekeeper
at
Chesney
Wold
,
has
several
times
taken
off
her
spectacles
and
cleaned
them
,
to
make
certain
that
the
drops
were
not
upon
the
glasses
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
might
have
been
sufficiently
assured
by
hearing
the
rain
,
but
that
she
is
rather
deaf
,
which
nothing
will
induce
her
to
believe
.
She
is
a
fine
old
lady
,
handsome
,
stately
,
wonderfully
neat
,
and
has
such
a
back
,
and
such
a
stomacher
,
that
if
her
stays
should
turn
out
when
she
dies
to
have
been
a
broad
old-fashioned
family
fire-grate
,
nobody
who
knows
her
would
have
cause
to
be
surprised
.
Weather
affects
Mrs.
Rouncewell
little
.
The
house
is
there
in
all
weathers
,
and
the
house
,
as
she
expresses
it
,
“
is
what
she
looks
at
.
”
She
sits
in
her
room
(
in
a
side
passage
on
the
ground
floor
,
with
an
arched
window
commanding
a
smooth
quadrangle
,
adorned
at
regular
intervals
with
smooth
round
trees
and
smooth
round
blocks
of
stone
,
as
if
the
trees
were
going
to
play
at
bowls
with
the
stones
)
,
and
the
whole
house
reposes
,
on
her
mind
.
She
can
open
it
on
occasion
,
and
be
busy
and
fluttered
;
but
it
is
shut-up
now
,
and
lies
on
the
breadth
of
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
iron-bound
bosom
,
in
a
majestic
sleep
.
It
is
the
next
difficult
thing
to
an
impossibility
to
imagine
Chesney
Wold
without
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
but
she
has
only
been
here
fifty
years
.
Ask
her
how
long
,
this
rainy
day
,
and
she
shall
answer
“
fifty
year
three
months
and
a
fortnight
,
by
the
blessing
of
Heaven
,
if
I
live
till
Tuesday
.
”
Mr.
Rouncewell
died
some
time
before
the
decease
of
the
pretty
fashion
of
pig-tails
,
and
modestly
hid
his
own
(
if
he
took
it
with
him
)
in
a
corner
of
the
churchyard
in
the
park
,
near
the
mouldy
porch
.
He
was
born
in
the
market
town
,
and
so
was
his
young
widow
.
Her
progress
in
the
family
began
in
the
time
of
the
last
Sir
Leicester
,
and
originated
in
the
still-room
.
The
present
representative
of
the
Dedlocks
is
an
excellent
master
.
He
supposes
all
his
dependents
to
be
utterly
bereft
of
individual
characters
,
intentions
,
or
opinions
,
and
is
persuaded
that
he
was
born
to
supersede
the
necessity
of
their
having
any
.
If
he
were
to
make
a
discovery
to
the
contrary
,
he
would
be
simply
stunned
—
would
never
recover
himself
,
most
likely
,
except
to
gasp
and
die
.
But
he
is
an
excellent
master
still
,
holding
it
a
part
of
his
state
to
be
so
.
He
has
a
great
liking
for
Mrs.
Rouncewell
;
he
says
she
is
a
most
respectable
,
creditable
woman
.
He
always
shakes
hands
with
her
,
when
he
comes
down
to
Chesney
Wold
,
and
when
he
goes
away
;
and
if
he
were
very
ill
,
or
if
he
were
knocked
down
by
accident
,
or
run
over
,
or
placed
in
any
situation
expressive
of
a
Dedlock
at
a
disadvantage
,
he
would
say
if
he
could
speak
,
“
Leave
me
,
and
send
Mrs.
Rouncewell
here
!
”
feeling
his
dignity
,
at
such
a
pass
,
safer
with
her
than
with
anybody
else
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
has
known
trouble
.
She
has
had
two
sons
,
of
whom
the
younger
ran
wild
,
and
went
for
a
soldier
,
and
never
came
back
.
Even
to
this
hour
,
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
calm
hands
lose
their
composure
when
she
speaks
of
him
,
and
unfolding
themselves
from
her
stomacher
,
hover
about
her
in
an
agitated
manner
,
as
she
says
,
what
a
likely
lad
,
what
a
fine
lad
,
what
a
gay
,
good-humoured
,
clever
lad
he
was
!
Her
second
son
would
have
been
provided
for
at
Chesney
Wold
,
and
would
have
been
made
steward
in
due
season
;
but
he
took
,
when
he
was
a
schoolboy
,
to
constructing
steam-engines
out
of
saucepans
,
and
setting
birds
to
draw
their
own
water
,
with
the
least
possible
amount
of
labor
;
so
assisting
them
with
artful
contrivance
of
hydraulic
pressure
,
that
a
thirsty
canary
had
only
,
in
a
literal
sense
,
to
put
his
shoulder
to
the
wheel
,
and
the
job
was
done
.
This
propensity
gave
Mrs.
Rouncewell
great
uneasiness
.
She
felt
it
,
with
a
mother
's
anguish
,
to
be
a
move
in
the
Wat
Tyler
direction
:
well
knowing
that
Sir
Leicester
had
that
general
impression
of
an
aptitude
for
any
art
to
which
smoke
and
a
tall
chimney
might
be
considered
essential
.
But
the
doomed
young
rebel
(
otherwise
a
mild
youth
,
and
very
persevering
)
,
showing
no
sign
of
grace
as
he
got
older
;
but
,
on
the
contrary
,
constructing
a
model
of
a
power-loom
,
she
was
fain
,
with
many
tears
,
to
mention
his
backslidings
to
the
baronet
.
“
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
”
said
Sir
Leicester
,
“
I
can
never
consent
to
argue
,
as
you
know
,
with
any
one
on
any
subject
.
You
had
better
get
rid
of
your
boy
;
you
had
better
get
him
into
some
Works
.
The
iron
country
farther
north
is
,
I
suppose
,
the
congenial
direction
for
a
boy
with
these
tendencies
.
”
Farther
north
he
went
,
and
farther
north
he
grew
up
;
and
if
Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
ever
saw
him
,
when
he
came
to
Chesney
Wold
to
visit
his
mother
,
or
ever
thought
of
him
afterwards
,
it
is
certain
that
he
only
regarded
him
as
one
of
a
body
of
some
odd
thousand
conspirators
,
swarthy
and
grim
,
who
were
in
the
habit
of
turning
out
by
torchlight
,
two
or
three
nights
in
the
week
,
for
unlawful
purposes
.
Nevertheless
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
son
has
,
in
the
course
of
nature
and
art
,
grown
up
,
and
established
himself
,
and
married
,
and
called
unto
him
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
grandson
:
who
,
being
out
of
his
apprenticeship
,
and
home
from
a
journey
in
far
countries
,
whither
he
was
sent
to
enlarge
his
knowledge
and
complete
his
preparation
for
the
venture
of
this
life
,
stands
leaning
against
the
chimney-piece
this
very
day
,
in
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
room
at
Chesney
Wold
.
“
And
,
again
and
again
,
I
am
glad
to
see
you
,
Watt
!
And
,
once
again
,
I
am
glad
to
see
you
,
Watt
!
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
.
“
You
are
a
fine
young
fellow
.
You
are
like
your
poor
uncle
George
.
Ah
!
”
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
hands
unquiet
,
as
usual
,
on
this
reference
.
“
They
say
I
am
like
my
father
,
grandmother
.
”
“
Like
him
,
also
,
my
dear
,
—
but
most
like
your
poor
uncle
George
!
And
your
dear
father
.
”
Mrs.
Rouncewell
folds
her
hands
again
.
“
He
is
well
?
”
“
Thriving
,
grandmother
,
in
every
way
.
”
“
I
am
thankful
!
”
Mrs.
Rouncewell
is
fond
of
her
son
,
but
has
a
plaintive
feeling
towards
him
—
much
as
if
he
were
a
very
honorable
soldier
,
who
had
gone
over
to
the
enemy
.
“
He
is
quite
happy
?
”
says
she
.
“
Quite
.
”
“
I
am
thankful
!
So
,
he
has
brought
you
up
to
follow
in
his
ways
,
and
has
sent
you
into
foreign
countries
and
the
like
?
Well
,
he
knows
best
.
There
may
be
a
world
beyond
Chesney
Wold
that
I
do
n't
understand
.
Though
I
am
not
young
,
either
.
And
I
have
seen
a
quantity
of
good
company
too
!
”
“
Grandmother
,
”
says
the
young
man
,
changing
the
subject
,
“
what
a
very
pretty
girl
that
was
,
I
found
with
you
just
now
.
You
called
her
Rosa
?
”
“
Yes
,
child
.
She
is
daughter
of
a
widow
in
the
village
.
Maids
are
so
hard
to
teach
,
now-a-days
,
that
I
have
put
her
about
me
young
.
She
's
an
apt
scholar
,
and
will
do
well
.
She
shews
the
house
already
,
very
pretty
.
She
lives
with
me
,
at
my
table
here
.
”
“
I
hope
I
have
not
driven
her
away
?
”
“
She
supposes
we
have
family
affairs
to
speak
about
,
I
dare
say
.
She
is
very
modest
.
It
is
a
fine
quality
in
a
young
woman
.
And
scarcer
,
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
expanding
her
stomacher
to
its
utmost
limits
,
“
than
it
formerly
was
!
”
The
young
man
inclines
his
head
,
in
acknowledgement
of
the
precepts
of
experience
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
listens
.
“
Wheels
!
”
says
she
.
They
have
long
been
audible
to
the
younger
ears
of
her
companion
.
“
What
wheels
on
such
a
day
as
this
,
for
gracious
sake
?
”
After
a
short
interval
,
a
tap
at
the
door
.
“
Come
in
!
”
A
dark-eyed
,
dark-haired
,
shy
,
village
beauty
comes
in
—
so
fresh
in
her
rosy
and
yet
delicate
bloom
,
that
the
drops
of
rain
,
which
have
beaten
on
her
hair
,
look
like
the
dew
upon
a
flower
fresh-gathered
.
“
What
company
is
this
,
Rosa
?
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
.
“
It
's
two
young
men
in
a
gig
,
ma'am
,
who
want
to
see
the
house
—
yes
,
and
if
you
please
,
I
told
them
so
!
”
in
quick
reply
to
a
gesture
of
dissent
from
the
housekeeper
.
“
I
went
to
the
hall
door
,
and
told
them
it
was
the
wrong
day
,
and
the
wrong
hour
;
but
the
young
man
who
was
driving
took
off
his
hat
in
the
wet
,
and
begged
me
to
bring
this
card
to
you
.
”
“
Read
it
,
my
dear
Watt
,
”
says
the
housekeeper
.
Rosa
is
so
shy
as
she
gives
it
to
him
,
that
they
drop
it
between
them
,
and
almost
knock
their
foreheads
together
as
they
pick
it
up
.
Rosa
is
shyer
than
before
.
“
Mr.
Guppy
”
is
all
the
information
the
card
yields
.
“
Guppy
!
”
repeats
Mrs.
Rouncewell
.
“
Mr.
Guppy
!
Nonsense
,
I
never
heard
of
him
!
”
“
If
you
please
,
he
told
me
that
!
”
says
Rosa
.
“
But
he
said
that
he
and
the
other
young
gentleman
came
from
London
only
last
night
by
the
mail
,
on
business
at
the
magistrates
'
meeting
ten
miles
off
,
this
morning
;
and
that
as
their
business
was
soon
over
,
and
they
had
heard
a
great
deal
said
of
Chesney
Wold
,
and
really
did
n't
know
what
to
do
with
themselves
,
they
had
come
through
the
wet
to
see
it
.
They
are
lawyers
.
He
says
he
is
not
in
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
office
,
but
is
sure
he
may
make
use
of
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
's
name
,
if
necessary
.
”
Finding
,
now
she
leaves
off
,
that
she
has
been
making
quite
a
long
speech
,
Rosa
is
shyer
than
ever
.
Now
,
Mr.
Tulkinghorn
is
,
in
a
manner
,
part
and
parcel
of
the
place
;
and
,
besides
,
is
supposed
to
have
made
Mrs.
Rouncewell
's
will
.
The
old
lady
relaxes
,
consents
to
the
admission
of
the
visitors
as
a
favor
,
and
dismisses
Rosa
.
The
grandson
,
however
,
being
smitten
by
a
sudden
wish
to
see
the
house
himself
,
proposes
to
join
the
party
.
The
grandmother
,
who
is
pleased
that
he
should
have
that
interest
,
accompanies
him
—
though
,
to
do
him
justice
,
he
is
exceedingly
unwilling
to
trouble
her
.
“
Much
obliged
to
you
,
ma'am
!
”
says
Mr.
Guppy
,
divesting
himself
of
his
wet
dreadnought
in
the
hall
.
“
Us
London
lawyers
do
n't
often
get
an
out
;
and
when
we
do
,
we
like
to
make
the
most
of
it
,
you
know
.
”
The
old
housekeeper
,
with
a
gracious
severity
of
deportment
,
waves
her
hand
towards
the
great
staircase
.
Mr.
Guppy
and
his
friend
follow
Rosa
,
Mrs.
Rouncewell
and
her
grandson
follow
them
,
a
young
gardener
goes
before
to
open
the
shutters
.
As
is
usually
the
case
with
people
who
go
over
houses
,
Mr.
Guppy
and
his
friend
are
dead
beat
before
they
have
well
begun
.
They
straggle
about
in
wrong
places
,
look
at
wrong
things
,
do
n't
care
for
the
right
things
,
gape
when
more
rooms
are
opened
,
exhibit
profound
depression
of
spirits
,
and
are
clearly
knocked
up
.
In
each
successive
chamber
that
they
enter
,
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
who
is
as
upright
as
the
house
itself
,
rests
apart
in
a
window
seat
,
or
other
such
nook
,
and
listens
with
stately
approval
to
Rosa
's
exposition
.
Her
grandson
is
so
attentive
to
it
,
that
Rosa
is
shyer
than
ever
—
and
prettier
.
Thus
they
pass
on
from
room
to
room
,
raising
the
pictured
Dedlocks
for
a
few
brief
minutes
as
the
young
gardener
admits
the
light
,
and
reconsigning
them
to
their
graves
as
he
shuts
it
out
again
.
It
appears
to
the
afflicted
Mr.
Guppy
and
his
inconsolable
friend
,
that
there
is
no
end
to
the
Dedlocks
,
whose
family
greatness
seems
to
consist
in
their
never
having
done
anything
to
distinguish
themselves
,
for
seven
hundred
years
.
Even
the
long
drawing-room
of
Chesney
Wold
cannot
revive
Mr.
Guppy
's
spirits
.
He
is
so
low
that
he
droops
on
the
threshhold
,
and
has
hardly
strength
of
mind
to
enter
.
But
a
portrait
over
the
chimney-piece
,
painted
by
the
fashionable
artist
of
the
day
,
acts
upon
him
like
a
charm
.
He
recovers
in
a
moment
.
He
stares
at
it
with
uncommon
interest
;
he
seems
to
be
fixed
and
fascinated
by
it
.
“
Dear
me
!
”
says
Mr.
Guppy
.
“
Who
's
that
?
”
“
The
picture
over
the
fire-place
,
”
says
Rosa
,
“
is
the
portrait
of
the
present
Lady
Dedlock
.
It
is
considered
a
perfect
likeness
,
and
the
best
work
of
the
master
.
”
“
'
Blest
!
”
says
Mr.
Guppy
,
staring
in
a
kind
of
dismay
at
his
friend
,
“
if
I
can
ever
have
seen
her
.
Yet
I
know
her
!
Has
the
picture
been
engraved
,
miss
?
”
“
The
picture
has
never
been
engraved
.
Sir
Leicester
has
always
refused
permission
.
”
“
Well
!
”
says
Mr.
Guppy
in
a
low
voice
,
“
I
'll
be
shot
if
it
a
n't
very
curious
how
well
I
know
that
picture
!
So
that
's
Lady
Dedlock
,
is
it
!
”
“
The
picture
on
the
right
is
the
present
Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
.
The
picture
on
the
left
is
his
father
,
the
late
Sir
Leicester
.
”
Mr.
Guppy
has
no
eyes
for
either
of
these
magnates
.
“
It
's
unaccountable
to
me
,
”
he
says
,
still
staring
at
the
portrait
,
“
how
well
I
know
that
picture
!
I
'm
dashed
!
”
adds
Mr.
Guppy
,
looking
round
,
“
if
I
do
n't
think
I
must
have
had
a
dream
of
that
picture
,
you
know
!
”
As
no
one
present
takes
any
especial
interest
in
Mr.
Guppy
's
dreams
,
the
probability
is
not
pursued
.
But
he
still
remains
so
absorbed
by
the
portrait
,
that
he
stands
immoveable
before
it
until
the
young
gardener
has
closed
the
shutters
;
when
he
comes
out
of
the
room
in
a
dazed
state
,
that
is
an
odd
though
a
sufficient
substitute
for
interest
,
and
follows
into
the
succeeding
rooms
with
a
confused
stare
,
as
if
he
were
looking
everywhere
for
Lady
Dedlock
again
.
He
sees
no
more
of
her
.
He
sees
her
rooms
,
which
are
the
last
shewn
,
as
being
very
elegant
,
and
he
looks
out
of
the
windows
from
which
she
looked
out
,
not
long
,
ago
,
upon
the
weather
that
bored
her
to
death
.
All
things
have
an
end
—
even
houses
that
people
take
infinite
pains
to
see
,
and
are
tired
of
before
they
begin
to
see
them
.
He
has
come
to
the
end
of
the
sight
,
and
the
fresh
village
beauty
to
the
end
of
her
description
;
which
is
always
this
:
“
The
terrace
below
is
much
admired
.
It
is
called
,
from
an
old
story
in
the
family
,
The
Ghost
's
Walk
.
”
“
No
?
”
says
Mr.
Guppy
,
greedily
curious
;
“
what
's
the
story
,
miss
?
Is
it
anything
about
a
picture
?
”
“
Pray
tell
us
the
story
,
”
says
Watt
,
in
a
half
whisper
.
“
I
do
n't
know
it
,
sir
.
”
Rosa
is
shyer
than
ever
.
“
It
is
not
related
to
visitors
;
it
is
almost
forgotten
,
”
says
the
housekeeper
,
advancing
.
“
It
has
never
been
more
than
a
family
anecdote
.
”
“
You
'll
excuse
my
asking
again
if
it
has
anything
to
do
with
a
picture
,
ma'am
,
”
observes
Mr.
Guppy
,
“
because
I
do
assure
you
that
the
more
I
think
of
that
picture
the
better
I
know
it
,
without
knowing
how
I
know
it
!
”
The
story
has
nothing
to
do
with
a
picture
;
the
housekeeper
can
guarantee
that
.
Mr.
Guppy
is
obliged
to
her
for
the
information
;
and
is
,
moreover
,
generally
obliged
.
He
retires
with
his
friend
,
guided
down
another
staircase
by
the
young
gardener
;
and
presently
is
heard
to
drive
away
.
It
is
now
dusk
.
Mrs.
Rouncewell
can
trust
to
the
discretion
of
her
two
young
hearers
,
and
may
tell
them
how
the
terrace
came
to
have
that
ghostly
name
.
She
seats
herself
in
a
large
chair
by
the
fast-darkening
window
,
and
tells
them
:
“
In
the
wicked
days
,
my
dears
,
of
King
Charles
the
First
—
I
mean
,
of
course
,
in
the
wicked
days
of
the
rebels
who
leagued
themselves
against
that
excellent
King
—
Sir
Morbury
Dedlock
was
the
owner
of
Chesney
Wold
.
Whether
there
was
any
account
of
a
ghost
in
the
family
before
those
days
,
I
ca
n't
say
.
I
should
think
it
very
likely
indeed
.
”
Mrs.
Rouncewell
holds
this
opinion
,
because
she
considers
that
a
family
of
such
antiquity
and
importance
has
a
right
to
a
ghost
.
She
regards
a
ghost
as
one
of
the
privileges
of
the
upper
classes
;
a
genteel
distinction
to
which
the
common
people
have
no
claim
.
“
Sir
Morbury
Dedlock
,
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
“
was
,
I
have
no
occasion
to
say
,
on
the
side
of
the
blessed
martyr
.
But
it
is
supposed
that
his
lady
,
who
had
none
of
the
family
blood
in
her
veins
,
favored
the
bad
cause
.
It
is
said
that
she
had
relations
among
King
Charles
's
enemies
;
that
she
was
in
correspondence
with
them
;
and
that
she
gave
them
information
.
When
any
of
the
country
gentlemen
who
followed
His
Majesty
's
cause
met
here
,
it
is
said
that
my
Lady
was
always
nearer
to
the
door
of
their
council-room
than
they
supposed
.
Do
you
hear
a
sound
like
a
footstep
passing
along
the
terrace
,
Watt
?
”
Rosa
draws
nearer
to
the
housekeeper
.
“
I
hear
the
rain-drip
on
the
stones
,
”
replies
the
young
man
,
“
and
I
hear
a
curious
echo
—
I
suppose
an
echo
—
which
is
very
like
a
halting
step
.
”
The
housekeeper
gravely
nods
and
continues
:
“
Partly
on
account
of
this
division
between
them
,
and
partly
on
other
accounts
,
Sir
Morbury
and
his
Lady
led
a
troubled
life
.
She
was
a
lady
of
a
haughty
temper
.
They
were
not
well
suited
to
each
other
in
age
or
character
,
and
they
had
no
children
to
moderate
between
them
.
After
her
favorite
brother
,
a
young
gentleman
,
was
killed
in
the
civil
wars
(
by
Sir
Morbury
's
near
kinsman
)
,
her
feeling
was
so
violent
that
she
hated
the
race
into
which
she
had
married
.
When
the
Dedlocks
were
about
to
ride
out
from
Chesney
Wold
in
the
King
's
cause
,
she
is
supposed
to
have
more
than
once
stolen
down
into
the
stables
in
the
dead
of
night
,
and
lamed
their
horses
;
and
the
story
is
,
that
once
,
at
such
an
hour
,
her
husband
saw
her
gliding
down
the
stairs
,
and
followed
her
into
the
stall
where
his
own
favorite
horse
stood
.
There
he
seized
her
by
the
wrist
;
and
in
a
struggle
or
in
a
fall
,
or
through
the
horse
being
frightened
and
lashing
out
,
she
was
lamed
in
the
hip
,
and
from
that
hour
began
to
pine
away
.
”
The
housekeeper
has
dropped
her
voice
to
little
more
than
a
whisper
.
“
She
had
been
a
lady
of
a
handsome
figure
and
a
noble
carriage
.
She
never
complained
of
the
change
;
she
never
spoke
to
any
one
of
being
crippled
,
or
of
being
in
pain
;
but
,
day
by
day
,
she
tried
to
walk
upon
the
terrace
;
and
,
with
the
help
of
a
stick
,
and
with
the
help
of
the
stone
balustrade
,
went
up
and
down
,
up
and
down
,
up
and
down
,
in
sun
and
shadow
,
with
greater
difficulty
every
day
.
At
last
,
one
afternoon
,
her
husband
(
to
whom
she
had
never
,
on
any
persuasion
,
opened
her
lips
since
that
night
)
,
standing
at
the
great
south
window
,
saw
her
drop
upon
the
pavement
.
He
hastened
down
to
raise
her
,
but
she
repulsed
him
as
he
bent
over
her
,
and
looking
at
him
fixedly
and
coldly
,
said
‘I
will
die
here
,
where
I
have
walked
.
And
I
will
walk
here
,
though
I
am
in
my
grave
.
I
will
walk
here
,
until
the
pride
of
this
house
is
humbled
.
And
when
calamity
,
or
when
disgrace
is
coming
to
it
,
let
the
Dedlocks
listen
for
my
step
!
’
”
Watt
looks
at
Rosa
.
Rosa
in
the
deepening
gloom
looks
down
upon
the
ground
,
half
frightened
,
and
half
shy
.
“
There
and
then
she
died
.
And
from
those
days
,
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
“
the
name
has
come
down
—
The
Ghost
's
Walk
.
If
the
tread
is
an
echo
,
it
is
an
echo
that
is
only
heard
after
dark
,
and
is
often
unheard
for
a
long
while
together
.
But
it
comes
back
,
from
time
to
time
;
and
so
sure
as
there
is
sickness
or
death
in
the
family
,
it
will
be
heard
then
.
”
“
—
And
disgrace
,
grandmother
—
”
says
Watt
.
“
Disgrace
never
comes
to
Chesney
Wold
,
”
returns
the
housekeeper
.
Her
grandson
apologises
,
with
“
True
.
True
.
”
“
That
is
the
story
.
Whatever
the
sound
is
,
it
is
a
worrying
sound
,
”
says
Mrs.
Rouncewell
,
getting
up
from
her
chair
,
“
and
what
is
to
be
noticed
in
it
,
is
,
that
it
must
be
heard
.
My
lady
,
who
is
afraid
of
nothing
,
admits
that
when
it
is
there
,
it
must
be
heard
.
You
cannot
shut
it
out
.
Watt
,
there
is
a
tall
French
clock
behind
you
(
placed
there
,
'
a
purpose
)
that
has
a
loud
beat
when
it
is
in
motion
,
and
can
play
music
.
You
understand
how
those
things
are
managed
?
”
“
Pretty
well
,
grandmother
,
I
think
.
”
“
Set
it
a
going
.
”
Watt
sets
it
a
going
—
music
and
all
.
“
Now
,
come
hither
,
”
says
the
housekeeper
.
“
Hither
,
child
,
towards
my
lady
's
pillow
.
I
am
not
sure
that
it
is
dark
enough
yet
,
but
listen
!
Can
you
hear
the
sound
upon
the
terrace
,
through
the
music
,
and
the
beat
,
and
everything
?
”
“
I
certainly
can
!
”
“
So
my
lady
says
.
”
CHAPTER
VIII
.
COVERING
A
MULTITUDE
OF
SINS
.
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
.
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
.
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
.
But
so
from
rough
outsides
(
I
hope
I
have
learnt
)
,
serene
and
gentle
influences
often
proceed
.
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
storeroom
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
.
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
.
I
found
it
quite
a
delightful
place
;
in
front
,
the
pretty
avenue
and
drive
by
which
we
had
approached
(
and
where
,
by-the-bye
,
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
.
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
.
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
.
Mr.
Skimpole
was
as
agreeable
at
breakfast
,
as
he
had
been
over-night
.
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
did
n'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
would
n't
do
it
—
nobody
asked
him
.
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
insupportable
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
does
n'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
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
.
I
left
them
still
listening
to
him
,
when
I
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
bedchamber
,
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
.
“
Sit
down
,
my
dear
,
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
.
“
This
,
you
must
know
,
is
the
Growlery
.
When
I
am
out
of
humour
,
I
come
and
growl
here
.
”
“
You
must
be
here
very
seldom
,
sir
,
”
said
I
.
“
O
,
you
do
n't
know
me
!
”
he
returned
.
“
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
.
My
dear
,
how
you
are
trembling
!
”
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
honored
there
,
and
my
heart
so
full
—
I
kissed
his
hand
.
I
do
n'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
.
“
There
!
There
!
”
he
said
.
“
That
's
over
.
Pooh
!
Do
n't
be
foolish
.
”
“
It
shall
not
happen
again
,
sir
,
”
I
returned
,
“
but
at
first
it
is
difficult
”
—
“
Nonsense
!
”
he
said
,
“
it
's
easy
,
easy
.
Why
not
?
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
.
What
is
there
in
all
this
?
So
,
so
!
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
!
”
and
it
had
such
a
good
effect
,
that
I
folded
my
hands
upon
my
basket
and
quite
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
do
n't
know
how
long
.
I
almost
felt
as
if
I
had
.
“
Of
course
,
Esther
,
”
he
said
,
“
you
do
n't
understand
this
Chancery
business
?
”
And
of
course
I
shook
my
head
.
“
I
do
n't
know
who
does
,
”
he
returned
.
“
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
nothing
but
Costs
,
now
.
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
.
That
's
the
great
question
.
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
.
All
through
the
deplorable
cause
,
everything
that
everybody
in
it
,
except
one
man
,
knows
already
,
is
referred
to
that
only
one
man
who
do
n'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
.
Equity
sends
questions
to
Law
,
Law
sends
questions
back
to
Equity
;
Law
finds
it
ca
n't
do
this
,
Equity
finds
it
ca
n't
do
that
;
neither
can
so
much
as
say
it
ca
n'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
.
And
we
ca
n'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
.
But
it
wo
n't
do
to
think
of
it
!
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
?
”
He
nodded
gravely
.
“
I
was
his
heir
,
and
this
was
his
house
,
Esther
.
When
I
came
here
,
it
was
bleak
,
indeed
.
He
had
left
the
signs
of
his
misery
upon
it
.
”
“
How
changed
it
must
be
now
!
”
I
said
.
“
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
.
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
.
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
.
”
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
.
“
I
told
you
this
was
the
Growlery
,
my
dear
.
Where
was
I
?
”
I
reminded
him
,
at
the
hopeful
change
he
had
made
in
Bleak
House
.
“
Bleak
House
:
true
.
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
.
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
.
Although
Bleak
House
was
not
in
Chancery
,
its
master
was
,
and
it
was
stamped
with
the
same
seal
.
These
are
the
Great
Seal
's
impressions
,
my
dear
,
all
over
England
—
the
children
know
them
!
”
“
How
changed
it
is
!
”
I
said
again
.
“
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
.
”
(
The
idea
of
my
wisdom
!
)
“
These
are
things
I
never
talk
about
,
or
even
think
about
,
excepting
in
the
Growlery
,
here
.
If
you
consider
it
right
to
mention
them
to
Rick
and
Ada
,
”
looking
seriously
at
me
,
“
you
can
.
I
leave
it
to
your
discretion
,
Esther
.
”
“
I
hope
,
sir
”
—
said
I
.
“
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
.
“
I
hope
,
Guardian
,
”
said
I
,
“
that
you
may
not
trust
too
much
to
my
discretion
.
I
hope
you
may
not
mistake
me
.
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
.
”
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
.
“
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
do
n't
mean
Skimpole
's
)
Rhyme
.
“
‘Little
old
woman
,
and
whither
so
high
?
’
—
‘To
sweep
the
cobwebs
out
of
the
sky.’
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
.
”
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
.
“
However
,
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
“
to
return
to
our
gossip
.
Here
's
Rick
a
fine
young
fellow
full
of
promise
.
What
's
to
be
done
with
him
?
”
O
my
goodness
,
the
idea
of
asking
my
advice
on
such
a
point
!
“
Here
he
is
,
Esther
,
”
said
Mr.
Jarndyce
,
comfortably
putting
his
hands
in
his
pockets
and
stretching
out
his
legs
.
“
He
must
have
a
profession
;
he
must
make
some
choice
for
himself
.
There
will
be
a
world
more
Wiglomeration
about
it
,
I
suppose
,
but
it
must
be
done
.
”
“
More
what
,
Guardian
?
”
said
I
.
“
More
Wiglomeration
,
”
said
he
.
“
It
's
the
only
name
I
know
for
the
thing
.
He
is
a
ward
in
Chancery
,
my
dear
.
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
fee
'd
,
all
round
,
about
it
;
the
whole
thing
will
be
vastly
ceremonious
,
wordy
,
unsatisfactory
,
and
expensive
,
and
I
call
it
,
in
general
,
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
do
n'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
.
“
Perhaps
it
would
be
best
,
first
of
all
,
”
said
I
,
“
to
ask
Mr.
Richard
what
he
inclines
to
himself
.
”
“
Exactly
so
,
”
he
returned
.
“
That
's
what
I
mean
!
