I don't know how it is I seem to be always writing about myself. Imean all the time to write about other people, and I try to thinkabout myself as little as possible, and I am sure, when I findmyself coming into the story again, I am really vexed and say,"Dear, dear, you tiresome little creature, I wish you wouldn't!"but it is all of no use. I hope any one who may read what I writewill understand that if these pages contain a great deal about me,I can only suppose it must be because I have really something to dowith them and can't be kept out.
My darling and I read together, and worked, and practised, andfound so much employment for our time that the winter days flew byus like bright-winged birds. Generally in the afternoons, andalways in the evenings, Richard gave us his company. Although hewas one of the most restless creatures in the world, he certainlywas very fond of our society.
He was very, very, very fond of Ada. I mean it, and I had bettersay it at once. I had never seen any young people falling in lovebefore, but I found them out quite soon. I could not say so, ofcourse, or show that I knew anything about it. On the contrary, Iwas so demure and used to seem so unconscious that sometimes Iconsidered within myself while I was sitting at work whether I wasnot growing quite deceitful.
But there was no help for it. All I had to do was to be quiet, andI was as quiet as a mouse. They were as quiet as mice too, so faras any words were concerned, but the innocent manner in which theyrelied more and more upon me as they took more and more to oneanother was so charming that I had great difficulty in not showinghow it interested me.
"Our dear little old woman is such a capital old woman," Richardwould say, coming up to meet me in the garden early, with hispleasant laugh and perhaps the least tinge of a blush, "that Ican't get on without her. Before I begin my harum-scarum day--grinding away at those books and instruments and then galloping uphill and down dale, all the country round, like a highwayman--itdoes me so much good to come and have a steady walk with ourcomfortable friend, that here I am again!""You know, Dame Durden, dear," Ada would say at night, with herhead upon my shoulder and the firelight shining in her thoughtfuleyes, "I don't want to talk when we come upstairs here. Only tosit a little while thinking, with your dear face for company, andto hear the wind and remember the poor sailors at sea--"Ah! Perhaps Richard was going to be a sailor. We had talked itover very often now, and there was some talk of gratifying theinclination of his childhood for the sea. Mr. Jarndyce had writtento a relation of the family, a great Sir Leicester Dedlock, for hisinterest in Richard's favour, generally; and Sir Leicester hadreplied in a gracious manner that he would be happy to advance theprospects of the young gentleman if it should ever prove to bewithin his power, which was not at all probable, and that my Ladysent her compliments to the young gentleman (to whom she perfectlyremembered that she was allied by remote consanguinity) and trustedthat he would ever do his duty in any honourable profession towhich he might devote himself.
"So I apprehend it's pretty clear," said Richard to me, "that Ishall have to work my own way. Never mind! Plenty of people havehad to do that before now, and have done it. I only wish I had thecommand of a clipping privateer to begin with and could carry offthe Chancellor and keep him on short allowance until he gavejudgment in our cause. He'd find himself growing thin, if hedidn't look sharp!"With a buoyancy and hopefulness and a gaiety that hardly everflagged, Richard had a carelessness in his character that quiteperplexed me, principally because he mistook it, in such a very oddway, for prudence. It entered into all his calculations aboutmoney in a singular manner which I don't think I can better explainthan by reverting for a moment to our loan to Mr. Skimpole.
Mr. Jarndyce had ascertained the amount, either from Mr. Skimpolehimself or from Coavinses, and had placed the money in my handswith instructions to me to retain my own part of it and hand therest to Richard. The number of little acts of thoughtlessexpenditure which Richard justified by the recovery of his tenpounds, and the number of times he talked to me as if he had savedor realized that amount, would form a sum in simple addition.
"My prudent Mother Hubbard, why not?" he said to me when he wanted,without the least consideration, to bestow five pounds on thebrickmaker. "I made ten pounds, clear, out of Coavinses'
business.""How was that?" said I.
"Why, I got rid of ten pounds which I was quite content to get ridof and never expected to see any more. You don't deny that?""No," said I.
"Very well! Then I came into possession of ten pounds--""The same ten pounds," I hinted.
"That has nothing to do with it!" returned Richard. "I have gotten pounds more than I expected to have, and consequently I canafford to spend it without being particular."In exactly the same way, when he was persuaded out of the sacrificeof these five pounds by being convinced that it would do no good,he carried that sum to his credit and drew upon it.
"Let me see!" he would say. "I saved five pounds out of thebrickmaker's affair, so if I have a good rattle to London and backin a post-chaise and put that down at four pounds, I shall havesaved one. And it's a very good thing to save one, let me tellyou: a penny saved is a penny got!"I believe Richard's was as frank and generous a nature as therepossibly can be. He was ardent and brave, and in the midst of allhis wild restlessness, was so gentle that I knew him like a brotherin a few weeks. His gentleness was natural to him and would haveshown itself abundantly even without Ada's influence; but with it,he became one of the most winning of companions, always so ready tobe interested and always so happy, sanguine, and light-hearted. Iam sure that I, sitting with them, and walking with them, andtalking with them, and noticing from day to day how they went on,falling deeper and deeper in love, and saying nothing about it, andeach shyly thinking that this love was the greatest of secrets,perhaps not yet suspected even by the other--I am sure that I wasscarcely less enchanted than they were and scarcely less pleasedwith the pretty dream.
We were going on in this way, when one morning at breakfast Mr.
Jarndyce received a letter, and looking at the superscription,said, "From Boythorn? Aye, aye!" and opened and read it withevident pleasure, announcing to us in a parenthesis when he wasabout half-way through, that Boythorn was "coming down" on a visit.
Now who was Boythorn, we all thought. And I dare say we allthought too--I am sure I did, for one--would Boythorn at allinterfere with what was going forward?
"I went to school with this fellow, Lawrence Boythorn," said Mr.
Jarndyce, tapping the letter as he laid it on the table, "more thanfive and forty years ago. He was then the most impetuous boy inthe world, and he is now the most impetuous man. He was then theloudest boy in the world, and he is now the loudest man. He wasthen the heartiest and sturdiest boy in the world, and he is nowthe heartiest and sturdiest man. He is a tremendous fellow.""In stature, sir?" asked Richard.
"Pretty well, Rick, in that respect," said Mr. Jarndyce; "beingsome ten years older than I and a couple of inches taller, with hishead thrown back like an old soldier, his stalwart chest squared,his hands like a clean blacksmith's, and his lungs! There's nosimile for his lungs. Talking, laughing, or snoring, they make thebeams of the house shake."As Mr. Jarndyce sat enjoying the image of his friend Boythorn, weobserved the favourable omen that there was not the leastindication of any change in the wind.
"But it's the inside of the man, the warm heart of the man, thepassion of the man, the fresh blood of the man, Rick--and Ada, andlittle Cobweb too, for you are all interested in a visitor--that Ispeak of," he pursued. "His language is as sounding as his voice.
He is always in extremes, perpetually in the superlative degree.
In his condemnation he is all ferocity. You might suppose him tobe an ogre from what he says, and I believe he has the reputationof one with some people. There! I tell you no more of himbeforehand. You must not be surprised to see him take me under hisprotection, for he has never forgotten that I was a low boy atschool and that our friendship began in his knocking two of my headtyrant's teeth out (he says six) before breakfast. Boythorn andhis man," to me, "will be here this afternoon, my dear."I took care that the necessary preparations were made for Mr.
Boythorn's reception, and we looked forward to his arrival withsome curiosity. The afternoon wore away, however, and he did notappear. The dinner-hour arrived, and still he did not appear. Thedinner was put back an hour, and we were sitting round the firewith no light but the blaze when the hall-door suddenly burst openand the hall resounded with these words, uttered with the greatestvehemence and in a stentorian tone: "We have been misdirected,Jarndyce, by a most abandoned ruffian, who told us to take theturning to the right instead of to the left. He is the mostintolerable scoundrel on the face of the earth. His father musthave been a most consummate villain, ever to have such a son. Iwould have had that fellow shot without the least remorse!""Did he do it on purpose?" Mr. Jarndyce inquired.
"I have not the slightest doubt that the scoundrel has passed hiswhole existence in misdirecting travellers!" returned the other.
"By my soul, I thought him the worst-looking dog I had ever beheldwhen he was telling me to take the turning to the right. And yet Istood before that fellow face to face and didn't knock his brainsout!""Teeth, you mean?" said Mr. Jarndyce.
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Lawrence Boythorn, really making thewhole house vibrate. "What, you have not forgotten it yet! Ha,ha, ha! And that was another most consummate vagabond! By mysoul, the countenance of that fellow when he was a boy was theblackest image of perfidy, cowardice, and cruelty ever set up as ascarecrow in a field of scoundrels. If I were to meet that mostunparalleled despot in the streets to-morrow, I would fell him likea rotten tree!""I have no doubt of it," said Mr. Jarndyce. "Now, will you comeupstairs?""By my soul, Jarndyce," returned his guest, who seemed to refer tohis watch, "if you had been married, I would have turned back atthe garden-gate and gone away to the remotest summits of theHimalaya Mountains sooner than I would have presented myself atthis unseasonable hour.""Not quite so far, I hope?" said Mr. Jarndyce.
"By my life and honour, yes!" cried the visitor. "I wouldn't beguilty of the audacious insolence of keeping a lady of the housewaiting all this time for any earthly consideration. I wouldinfinitely rather destroy myself--infinitely rather!"Talking thus, they went upstairs, and presently we heard him in hisbedroom thundering "Ha, ha, ha!" and again "Ha, ha, ha!" until theflattest echo in the neighbourhood seemed to catch the contagionand to laugh as enjoyingly as he did or as we did when we heard himlaugh.
We all conceived a prepossession in his favour, for there was asterling quality in this laugh, and in his vigorous, healthy voice,and in the roundness and fullness with which he uttered every wordhe spoke, and in the very fury of his superlatives, which seemed togo off like blank cannons and hurt nothing. But we were hardlyprepared to have it so confirmed by his appearance when Mr.
Jarndyce presented him. He was not only a very handsome oldgentleman--upright and stalwart as he had been described to us--with a massive grey head, a fine composure of face when silent, afigure that might have become corpulent but for his being socontinually in earnest that he gave it no rest, and a chin thatmight have subsided into a double chin but for the vehementemphasis in which it was constantly required to assist; but he wassuch a true gentleman in his manner, so chivalrously polite, hisface was lighted by a smile of so much sweetness and tenderness,and it seemed so plain that he had nothing to hide, but showedhimself exactly as he was--incapable, as Richard said, of anythingon a limited scale, and firing away with those blank great gunsbecause he carried no small arms whatever--that really I could nothelp looking at him with equal pleasure as he sat at dinner,whether he smilingly conversed with Ada and me, or was led by Mr.
Jarndyce into some great volley of superlatives, or threw up hishead like a bloodhound and gave out that tremendous "Ha, ha, ha!""You have brought your bird with you, I suppose?" said Mr.
Jarndyce.
"By heaven, he is the most astonishing bird in Europe!" replied theother. "He IS the most wonderful creature! I wouldn't take tenthousand guineas for that bird. I have left an annuity for hissole support in case he should outlive me. He is, in sense andattachment, a phenomenon. And his father before him was one of themost astonishing birds that ever lived!"The subject of this laudation was a very little canary, who was sotame that he was brought down by Mr. Boythorn's man, on hisforefinger, and after taking a gentle flight round the room,alighted on his master's head. To hear Mr. Boythorn presentlyexpressing the most implacable and passionate sentiments, with thisfragile mite of a creature quietly perched on his forehead, was tohave a good illustration of his character, I thought.
"By my soul, Jarndyce," he said, very gently holding up a bit ofbread to the canary to peck at, "if I were in your place I wouldseize every master in Chancery by the throat tomorrow morning andshake him until his money rolled out of his pockets and his bonesrattled in his skin. I would have a settlement out of somebody, byfair means or by foul. If you would empower me to do it, I woulddo it for you with the greatest satisfaction!" (All this time thevery small canary was eating out of his hand.)"I thank you, Lawrence, but the suit is hardly at such a point atpresent," returned Mr. Jarndyce, laughing, "that it would begreatly advanced even by the legal process of shaking the bench andthe whole bar.""There never was such an infernal cauldron as that Chancery on theface of the earth!" said Mr. Boythorn. "Nothing but a mine belowit on a busy day in term time, with all its records, rules, andprecedents collected in it and every functionary belonging to italso, high and low, upward and downward, from its son theAccountant-General to its father the Devil, and the whole blown toatoms with ten thousand hundredweight of gunpowder, would reform itin the least!"It was impossible not to laugh at the energetic gravity with whichhe recommended this strong measure of reform. When we laughed, hethrew up his head and shook his broad chest, and again the wholecountry seemed to echo to his "Ha, ha, ha!" It had not the leasteffect in disturbing the bird, whose sense of security was completeand who hopped about the table with its quick head now on this sideand now on that, turning its bright sudden eye on its master as ifhe were no more than another bird.
"But how do you and your neighbour get on about the disputed rightof way?" said Mr. Jarndyce. "You are not free from the toils ofthe law yourself!""The fellow has brought actions against ME for trespass, and I havebrought actions against HIM for trespass," returned Mr. Boythorn.
"By heaven, he is the proudest fellow breathing. It is morallyimpossible that his name can be Sir Leicester. It must be SirLucifer.""Complimentary to our distant relation!" said my guardianlaughingly to Ada and Richard.
"I would beg Miss Clare's pardon and Mr. Carstone's pardon,"resumed our visitor, "if I were not reassured by seeing in the fairface of the lady and the smile of the gentleman that it is quiteunnecessary and that they keep their distant relation at acomfortable distance.""Or he keeps us," suggested Richard.
"By my soul," exclaimed Mr. Boythorn, suddenly firing anothervolley, "that fellow is, and his father was, and his grandfatherwas, the most stiff-necked, arrogant imbecile, pig-headed numskull,ever, by some inexplicable mistake of Nature, born in any stationof life but a walking-stick's! The whole of that family are themost solemnly conceited and consummate blockheads! But it's nomatter; he should not shut up my path if he were fifty baronetsmelted into one and living in a hundred Chesney Wolds, one withinanother, like the ivory balls in a Chinese carving. The fellow, byhis agent, or secretary, or somebody, writes to me 'Sir LeicesterDedlock, Baronet, prese............