As soon as Richard and I had held the conversation of which I havegiven an account, Richard communicated the state of his mind to Mr.
Jarndyce. I doubt if my guardian were altogether taken by surprisewhen he received the representation, though it caused him muchuneasiness and disappointment. He and Richard were often closetedtogether, late at night and early in the morning, and passed wholedays in London, and had innumerable appointments with Mr. Kenge,and laboured through a quantity of disagreeable business. Whilethey were thus employed, my guardian, though he underwentconsiderable inconvenience from the state of the wind and rubbedhis head so constantly that not a single hair upon it ever restedin its right place, was as genial with Ada and me as at any othertime, but maintained a steady reserve on these matters. And as ourutmost endeavours could only elicit from Richard himself sweepingassurances that everything was going on capitally and that itreally was all right at last, our anxiety was not much relieved byhim.
We learnt, however, as the time went on, that a new application wasmade to the Lord Chancellor on Richard's behalf as an infant and award, and I don't know what, and that there was a quantity oftalking, and that the Lord Chancellor described him in open courtas a vexatious and capricious infant, and that the matter wasadjourned and readjourned, and referred, and reported on, andpetitioned about until Richard began to doubt (as he told us)whether, if he entered the army at all, it would not be as aveteran of seventy or eighty years of age. At last an appointmentwas made for him to see the Lord Chancellor again in his privateroom, and there the Lord Chancellor very seriously reproved him fortrifling with time and not knowing his mind--"a pretty good joke, Ithink," said Richard, "from that quarter!"--and at last it wassettled that his application should be granted. His name wasentered at the Horse Guards as an applicant for an ensign'scommission; the purchase-money was deposited at an agent's; andRichard, in his usual characteristic way, plunged into a violentcourse of military study and got up at five o'clock every morningto practise the broadsword exercise.
Thus, vacation succeeded term, and term succeeded vacation. Wesometimes heard of Jarndyce and Jarndyce as being in the paper orout of the paper, or as being to be mentioned, or as being to bespoken to; and it came on, and it went off. Richard, who was nowin a professor's house in London, was able to be with us lessfrequently than before; my guardian still maintained the samereserve; and so time passed until the commission was obtained andRichard received directions with it to join a regiment in Ireland.
He arrived post-haste with the intelligence one evening, and had along conference with my guardian. Upwards of an hour elapsedbefore my guardian put his head into the room where Ada and I weresitting and said, "Come in, my dears!" We went in and foundRichard, whom we had last seen in high spirits, leaning on thechimney-piece looking mortified and angry.
"Rick and I, Ada," said Mr. Jarndyce, "are not quite of one mind.
Come, come, Rick, put a brighter face upon it!""You are very hard with me, sir," said Richard. "The harderbecause you have been so considerate to me in all other respectsand have done me kindnesses that I can never acknowledge. I nevercould have been set right without you, sir.""Well, well!" said Mr. Jarndyce. "I want to set you more rightyet. I want to set you more right with yourself.""I hope you will excuse my saying, sir," returned Richard in afiery way, but yet respectfully, "that I think I am the best judgeabout myself.""I hope you will excuse my saying, my dear Rick," observed Mr.
Jarndyce with the sweetest cheerfulness and good humour, "that'sit's quite natural in you to think so, but I don't think so. Imust do my duty, Rick, or you could never care for me in coolblood; and I hope you will always care for me, cool and hot."Ada had turned so pale that he made her sit down in his reading-chair and sat beside her.
"It's nothing, my dear," he said, "it's nothing. Rick and I haveonly had a friendly difference, which we must state to you, for youare the theme. Now you are afraid of what's coming.""I am not indeed, cousin John," replied Ada with a smile, "if it isto come from you.""Thank you, my dear. Do you give me a minute's calm attention,without looking at Rick. And, little woman, do you likewise. Mydear girl," putting his hand on hers as it lay on the side of theeasy-chair, "you recollect the talk we had, we four when the littlewoman told me of a little love affair?""It is not likely that either Richard or I can ever forget yourkindness that day, cousin John.""I can never forget it," said Richard.
"And I can never forget it," said Ada.
"So much the easier what I have to say, and so much the easier forus to agree," returned my guardian, his face irradiated by thegentleness and honour of his heart. "Ada, my bird, you should knowthat Rick has now chosen his profession for the last time. Allthat he has of certainty will be expended when he is fullyequipped. He has exhausted his resources and is bound henceforwardto the tree he has planted.""Quite true that I have exhausted my present resources, and I amquite content to know it. But what I have of certainty, sir," saidRichard, "is not all I have.""Rick, Rick!" cried my guardian with a sudden terror in his manner,and in an altered voice, and putting up his hands as if he wouldhave stopped his ears. "For the love of God, don't found a hope orexpectation on the family curse! Whatever you do on this side thegrave, never give one lingering glance towards the horrible phantomthat has haunted us so many years. Better to borrow, better tobeg, better to die!"We were all startled by the fervour of this warning. Richard bithis lip and held his breath, and glanced at me as if he felt, andknew that I felt too, how much he needed it.
"Ada, my dear," said Mr. Jarndyce, recovering his cheerfulness,"these are strong words of advice, but I live in Bleak House andhave seen a sight here. Enough of that. All Richard had to starthim in the race of life is ventured. I recommend to him and you,for his sake and your own, that he should depart from us with theunderstanding that there is no sort of contract between you. Imust go further. 1 will be plain with you both. You were toconfide freely in me, and I will confide freely in you. I ask youwholly to relinquish, for the present, any tie but yourrelationship.""Better to say at once, sir," returned Richard, "that you renounceall confidence in me and that you advise Ada to do the same.""Better to say nothing of the sort, Rick, because I don't mean it.""You think I have begun ill, sir," retorted Richard. "I HAVE, Iknow.""How I hoped you would begin, and how go on, I told you when wespoke of these things last," said Mr. Jarndyce in a cordial andencouraging manner. "You have not made that beginning yet, butthere is a time for all things, and yours is not gone by; rather,it is just now fully come. Make a clear beginning altogether. Youtwo (very young, my dears) are cousins. As yet, you are nothingmore. What more may come must come of being worked out, Rick, andno sooner.""You are very hard with me, sir," said Richard. "Harder than Icould have supposed you would be.""My dear boy," said Mr. Jarndyce, "I am harder with myself when Ido anything that gives you pain. You have your remedy in your ownhands. Ada, it is better for him that he should be free and thatthere should be no youthful engagement between you. Rick, it isbetter for her, much better; you owe it to her. Come! Each of youwill do what is best for the other, if not what is best foryourselves.""Why is it best, sir?" returned Richard hastily. "It was not whenwe opened our hearts to you. You did not say so then.""I have had experience since. I don't blame you, Rick, but I havehad experience since.""You mean of me, sir.""Well! Yes, of both of you," said Mr. Jarndyce kindly. "The timeis not come for your standing pledged to one another. It is notright, and I must not recognize it. Come, come, my young cousins,begin afresh! Bygones shall be bygones, and a new page turned foryou to write your lives in."Richard gave an anxious glance at Ada but said nothing.
"I have avoided saying one word to either of you or to Esther,"said Mr. Jarndyce, "until now, in order that we might be open asthe day, and all on equal terms. I now affectionately advise, Inow most earnestly entreat, you two to part as you came here.
Leave all else to time, truth, and steadfastness. If you dootherwise, you will do wrong, and you will have made me do wrong inever bringing you together."A long silence succeeded.
"Cousin Richard," said Ada then, raising her blue eyes tenderly tohis face, "after what our cousin John has said, I think no choiceis left us. Your mind may he quite at ease about me, for you willleave me here under his care and will be sure that I can havenothing to wish for--quite sure if I guide myself by his advice.
I--I don't doubt, cousin Richard," said Ada, a little confused,"that you are very fond of me, and I--I don't think you will fallin love with anybody else. But I should like you to consider wellabout it too, as I should like you to be in all things very happy.
You may trust in me, cousin Richard. I am not at all changeable;but I am not unreasonable, and should never blame you. Evencousins may be sorry to part; and in truth I am very, very sorry,Richard, though I know it's for your welfare. I shall always thinkof you affectionately, and often talk of you with Esther, and--andperhaps you will sometimes think a little of me, cousin Richard.
So now," said Ada, going up to him and giving him her tremblinghand, "we are only cousins again, Richard--for the time perhaps--and I pray for a blessing on my dear cousin, wherever he goes!"It was strange to me that Richard should not be able to forgive myguardian for entertaining the very same opinion of him which hehimself had expressed of himself in much stronger terms to me. Butit was certainly the case. I observed with great regret that fromthis hour he never was as free and open with Mr. Jarndyce as he hadbeen before. He had every reason given him to be so, but he wasnot; and solely on his side, an estrangement began to arise betweenthem.
In the business of preparation and equipment he soon lost himself,and even his grief at parting from Ada, who remained inHertfordshire while he, Mr. Jarndyce, and I went up to London for aweek. He remembered her by fits and starts, even with bursts oftears, and at such times would confide to me the heaviest self-reproaches. But in a few minutes he would recklessly conjure upsome undefinable means by which they were both to be made rich andhappy for ever, and would become as gay as possible.
It was a busy time, and I trotted about with him all day long,buying a variety of things of which he stood in need. Of thethings he would have bought if he had been left to his own ways Isay nothing. He was perfectly confidential with me, and oftentalked so sensibly and feelingly about his faults and his vigorousresolutions, and dwelt so much upon the encouragement he derivedfrom these conversations that I could never have been tired if Ihad tried.
There used, in that week, to come backward and forward to ourlodging to fence with Richard a person who had formerly been acavalry soldier; he was a fine bluff-looking man, of a frank freebearing, with whom Richard had practised for some months. I heardso much about him, not only from Richard, but from my guardian too,that I was purposely in the room with my work one morning afterbreakfast when he came.
"Good morning, Mr. George," said my guardian, who happened to bealone with me. "Mr. Carstone will be here directly. Meanwhile,Miss Summerson is very happy to see you, I know. Sit down."He sat down, a little disconcerted by my presence, I thought, andwithout looking at me, drew his heavy sunburnt hand across andacross his upper lip.
"You are as punctual as the sun," said Mr. Jarndyce.
"Military time, sir," he replied. "Force of habit. A mere habitin me, sir. I am not at all business-like.""Yet you have a large establishment, too, I am told?" said Mr.
Jarndyce.
"Not much of a one, sir. I keep a shooting gallery, but not muchof a one.""And what kind of a shot and what kind of a swordsman do you makeof Mr. Carstone?" said my guardian.
"Pretty good, sir," he replied, folding his arms upon his broadchest and looking very large. "If Mr. Carstone was to give hisfull mind to it, he would come out very good.""But he don't, I suppose?" said my guardian.
"He did at first, sir, but not afterwards. Not his full mind.
Perhaps he has something else upon it--some young lady, perhaps."His bright dark eyes glanced at me for the first time.
"He has not me upon his mind, I assure you, Mr. George," said I,laughing, "though you seem to suspect me."He reddened a little through his brown and made me a trooper's bow.
"No offence, I hope, miss. I am one of the roughs.""Not at all," said I. "I take it as a compliment."If he had not looked at me before, he looked at me now in three orfour quick successive glances. "I beg your pardon, sir," he saidto my guardian with a manly kind of diffidence, "but you did me thehonour to mention the young lady's name--""Miss Summerson.""Miss Summerson," he repeated, and looked at me again.
"Do you know the name?" I asked.
"No, miss. To my knowledge I never heard it. I thought I had seenyou somewhere.""I think not," I returned, raising my head from my work to look athim; and there was something so genuine in his speech and mannerthat I was glad of the opportunity. "I remember faces very well.""So do I, miss!" he returned, meeting my look with the fullness ofhis dark eyes and broad forehead. "Humph! What set me off, now,upon that!"His once more reddening through his brown and being disconcerted byhis efforts to remember the association brought my guardian to hisrelief.
"Have you many pupils, Mr. George?""They vary in their number, sir. Mostly they're but a small lot tolive by.""And what classes of chance people come to practise at yourgallery?""All sorts, sir. Natives and foreigners. From gentlemen to'prentices. I have had Frenchwomen come, before now, and showthemselves dabs at pistol-shooting. Mad people out of number, ofcourse, but THEY go everywhere where the doors stand open.""People don't come with grudges and schemes of finishing theirpractice with live targets, I hope?" said my guardian, smiling.
"Not much of that, sir, though that HAS happened. Mostly they comefor skill--or idleness. Six of one, and half-a-dozen of the other.
I beg your pardon," said Mr. George, sitting stiffly upright andsquaring an elbow on each knee, "but I believe you're a Chancerysuitor, if I have heard correct?""I am sorry to say I am.""I have had one of YOUR compatriots in my time, sir.""A Chancery suitor?" returned my guardian. "How was that?""Why, the man was so badgered and worried and tortured by beingknocked about from post to pillar, and from pillar to post," saidMr. George, "that he got out of sorts. I don't believe he had anyidea of taking aim at anybody, but he was in that condition ofresentment and violence that he would come and pay for fifty shotsand fire away till he was red hot. One day I said to him whenthere was nobody by and he had been talking to me angrily about hiswrongs, 'If this practice is a safety-valve, comrade, well andgood; but I don't altogether like your being so bent upon it inyour present state of mind; I'd rather you took to something else.'
I was on my guard for a blow, he was that passionate; but hereceived it in very good part and left off directly. We shookhands and struck up a sort of friendship.""What was that man?" asked my guardian in a new tone of interest.
"Why, he began by being a small Shropshire farmer before they madea baited bull of him," said Mr. George.
"Was his name Gridley?""It was, sir."Mr. George directed another succession of quick bright glances atme as my guardian and I exchanged a word or two of surprise at thecoincidence, and I therefore explained to him how we knew the name.
He made me another of his soldierly bows in acknowledgment of whathe called my condescension.
"I don't know," he said as he looked at me, "what it is that setsme off again--but--bosh! What's my head running against!" Hepassed one of his heavy hands over his crisp dark hair as if tosweep the broken thoughts out of his mind and sat a little forward,with one arm akimbo and the other resting on his leg, looking in abrown study at the ground.
"I am sorry to learn that the same state of mind has got thisGridley into new troubles and that he is in hiding," said myguardian.
"So I am told, sir," returned Mr. George, still musing and lookingon the ground. "So I am told.""You don't know where?""No, sir," returned the trooper, lifting up his eyes and coming outof his reverie. "I can't say anything about him. He will be wornout soon, I expect. You may file a strong man's heart away for agood many years, but it will tell all of a sudden at last."Richard's entrance stopped the conversation. Mr. George rose, mademe another of his soldierly bows, wished my guardian a good day,and strode heavily out of the room.
This was the morning of the day appointed for Richard's departure.
We had no more purchases to make now; I had completed all hispacking early in the afternoon; and our time was disengaged untilnight, when he was to go to Liverpool for Holyhead. Jarndyce andJarndyce being again expected to come on that day, Richard proposedto me that we should go down to the court and hear what passed. Asit was his last day, and he was eager to go, and I had never beenthere, I gave my consent and we walked down to Westminster, wherethe court was then sitting. We beguiled the way with arrangementsconcerning the letters that Richard was to write to me and theletters that I was to write to him and with a great many hopefulprojects. My guardian knew where we were going and therefore wasnot with us.
When we came to the court, there was the Lord Chancellor--the samewhom I had seen in his private room in Lincoln's Inn--sitting ingreat state and gravity on the bench, with the mace and seals on ared table below him and an immense flat nosegay, like a littlegarden, which scented the whole court. Below the table, again, wasa long row of solicitors, with bundles of papers on the matting attheir feet; and then there were the gentlemen of the bar in wigsand gowns--some awake and some asleep, and one talking, and nobodypaying much attention to what he said. The Lord Chancellor leanedback in his very easy chair with his elbow on the cushioned arm andhis forehead resting on his hand; some of those who were presentdozed; some read the newspapers; some walked about or whispered ingroups: all seemed perfectly at their ease, by no means in a hurry,very unconcerned, and extremely comfortable.
To see everything going on so smoothly and to think of theroughness of the suitors' lives and deaths; to see all that fulldress and ceremony and to think of the waste, and want, andbeggared misery it represented; to consider that while the sicknessof hope deferred was raging in so many hearts this polite show wentcalmly on f............