When Mr. Woodcourt arrived in London, he went, that very same day,to Mr. Vholes's in Symond's Inn. For he never once, from themoment when I entreated him to be a friend to Richard, neglected orforgot his promise. He had told me that he accepted the charge asa sacred trust, and he was ever true to it in that spirit.

　　He found Mr. Vholes in his office and informed Mr. Vholes of hisagreement with Richard that he should call there to learn hisaddress.

　　"Just so, sir," said Mr. Vholes. "Mr. C.'s address is not ahundred miles from here, sir, Mr. C.'s address is not a hundredmiles from here. Would you take a seat, sir?"Mr. Woodcourt thanked Mr. Vholes, but he had no business with himbeyond what he had mentioned.

　　"Just so, sir. I believe, sir," said Mr. Vholes, still quietlyinsisting on the seat by not giving the address, "that you haveinfluence with Mr. C. Indeed I am aware that you have.""I was not aware of it myself," returned Mr. Woodcourt; "but Isuppose you know best.""Sir," rejoined Mr. Vholes, self-contained as usual, voice and all,"it is a part of my professional duty to know best. It is a partof my professional duty to study and to understand a gentleman whoconfides his interests to me. In my professional duty I shall notbe wanting, sir, if I know it. I may, with the best intentions, bewanting in it without knowing it; but not if I know it, sir."Mr. Woodcourt again mentioned the address.

　　"Give me leave, sir," said Mr. Vholes. "Bear with me for a moment.

　　Sir, Mr. C. is playing for a considerable stake, and cannot playwithout--need I say what?""Money, I presume?""Sir," said Mr. Vholes, "to be honest with you (honesty being mygolden rule, whether I gain by it or lose, and I find that Igenerally lose), money is the word. Now, sir, upon the chances ofMr. C.'s game I express to you no opinion, NO opinion. It might behighly impolitic in Mr. C., after playing so long and so high, toleave off; it might be the reverse; I say nothing. No, sir," saidMr. Vholes, bringing his hand flat down upon his desk in a positivemanner, "nothing.""You seem to forget," returned Mr, Woodcourt, "that I ask you tosay nothing and have no interest in anything you say.""Pardon me, sir!" retorted Mr. Vholes. "You do yourself aninjustice. No, sir! Pardon me! You shall not--shall not in myoffice, if I know it--do yourself an injustice. You are interestedin anything, and in everything, that relates to your friend. Iknow human nature much better, sir, than to admit for an instantthat a gentleman of your appearance is not interested in whateverconcerns his friend.""Well," replied Mr. Woodcourt, "that may be. I am particularlyinterested in his address.""The number, sir," said Mr. Vholes parenthetically, "I believe Ihave already mentioned. If Mr. C. is to continue to play for thisconsiderable stake, sir, he must have funds. Understand me! Thereare funds in hand at present. I ask for nothing; there are fundsin hand. But for the onward play, more funds must be provided,unless Mr. C. is to throw away what he has already ventured, whichis wholly and solely a point for his consideration. This, sir, Itake the opportunity of stating openly to you as the friend of Mr.

　　C. Without funds I shall always be happy to appear and act for Mr.

　　C. to the extent of all such costs as are safe to be allowed out ofthe estate, not beyond that. I could not go beyond that, sir,without wronging some one. I must either wrong my three dear girlsor my venerable father, who is entirely dependent on me, in theVale of Taunton; or some one. Whereas, sir, my resolution is (callit weakness or folly if you please) to wrong no one."Mr. Woodcourt rather sternly rejoined that he was glad to hear it.

　　"I wish, sir," said Mr. Vholes, "to leave a good name behind me.

　　Therefore I take every opportunity of openly stating to a friend ofMr. C. how Mr. C. is situated. As to myself, sir, the labourer isworthy of his hire. If I undertake to put my shoulder to thewheel, I do it, and I earn what I get. I am here for that purpose.

　　My name is painted on the door outside, with that object.""And Mr. Carstone's address, Mr. Vholes?""Sir," returned Mr. Vholes, "as I believe I have already mentioned,it is next door. On the second story you will find Mr. C.'sapartments. Mr. C. desires to be near his professional adviser,and I am far from objecting, for I court inquiry."Upon this Mr. Woodcourt wished Mr. Vholes good day and went insearch of Richard, the change in whose appearance he began tounderstand now but too well.

　　He found him in a dull room, fadedly furnished, much as I had foundhim in his barrack-room but a little while before, except that hewas not writing but was sitting with a book before him, from whichhis eyes and thoughts were far astray. As the door chanced to bestanding open, Mr. Woodcourt was in his presence for some momentswithout being perceived, and he told me that he never could forgetthe haggardness of his face and the dejection of his manner beforehe was aroused from his dream.

　　"Woodcourt, my dear fellow," cried Richard, starting up withextended hands, "you come upon my vision like a ghost.""A friendly one," he replied, "and only waiting, as they say ghostsdo, to be addressed. How does the mortal world go?" They wereseated now, near together.

　　"Badly enough, and slowly enough," said Richard, "speaking at leastfor my part of it.""What part is that?""The Chancery part.""I never heard," returned Mr. Woodcourt, shaking his head, "of itsgoing well yet.""Nor I," said Richard moodily. "Who ever did?" He brightenedagain in a moment and said with his natural openness, "Woodcourt, Ishould be sorry to be misunderstood by you, even if I gained by itin your estimation. You must know that I have done no good thislong time. I have not intended to do much harm, but I seem to havebeen capable of nothing else. It may be that I should have donebetter by keeping out of the net into which my destiny has workedme, but I think not, though I dare say you will soon hear, if youhave not already heard, a very different opinion. To make short ofa long story, I am afraid I have wanted an object; but I have anobject now--or it has me--and it is too late to discuss it. Takeme as I am, and make the best of me.""A bargain," said Mr. Woodcourt. "Do as much by me in return.""Oh! You," returned Richard, "you can pursue your art for its ownsake, and can put your hand upon the plough and never turn, and canstrike a purpose out of anything. You and I are very differentcreatures."He spoke regretfully and lapsed for a moment into his wearycondition.

　　"Well, well!" he cried, shaking it off. "Everything has an end.

　　We shall see! So you will take me as I am, and make the best ofme?""Aye! Indeed I will." They shook hands upon it laughingly, but indeep earnestness. I can answer for one of them with my heart ofhearts.

　　"You come as a godsend," said Richard, "for I have seen nobody hereyet but Vholes. Woodcourt, there is one subject I should like tomention, for once and for all, in the beginning of our treaty. Youcan hardly make the best of me if I don't. You know, I dare say,that I have an attachment to my cousin Ada?"Mr. Woodcourt replied that I had hinted as much to him. "Nowpray," returned Richard, "don't think me a heap of selfishness.

　　Don't suppose that I am splitting my head and half breaking myheart over this miserable Chancery suit for my own rights andinterests alone. Ada's are bound up with mine; they can't beseparated; Vholes works for both of us. Do think of that!"He was so very solicitous on this head that Mr. Woodcourt gave himthe strongest assurances that he did him no injustice.

　　"You see," said Richard, with something pathetic in his manner oflingering on the point, though it was off-hand and unstudied, "toan upright fellow like you, bringing a friendly face like yourshere, I cannot bear the thought of appearing selfish and mean. Iwant to see Ada righted, Woodcourt, as well as myself; I want to domy utmost to right her, as well as myself; I venture what I canscrape together to extricate her, as well as myself. Do, I beseechyou, think of that!"Afterwards, when Mr. Woodcourt came to reflect on what had passed,he was so very much impressed by the strength of Richard's anxietyon this point that in telling me generally of his first visit toSymond's Inn he particularly dwelt upon it. It revived a fear Ihad had before that my dear girl's little property would beabsorbed by Mr. Vholes and that Richard's justification to himselfwould be sincerely this. It was just as I began to take care ofCaddy that the interview took place, and I now return to the timewhen Caddy had recovered and the shade was still between me and mydarling.

　　I proposed to Ada that morning that we should go and see Richard.

　　It a little surprised me to find that she hesitated and was not soradiantly willing as I had expected.

　　"My dear," said I, "you have not had any difference with Richardsince I have been so much away?""No, Esther.""Not heard of him, perhaps?" said I.

　　"Yes, I have heard of him," said Ada.

　　Such tears in her eyes, and such love in her face. I could notmake my darling out. Should I go to Richard's by myself? I said.

　　No, Ada thought I had better not go by myself. Would she go withme? Yes, Ada thought she had better go with me. Should we go now?

　　Yes, let us go now. Well, I could not understand my darling, withthe tears in her eyes and the love in her face!

　　We were soon equipped and went out. It was a sombre day, and dropsof chill rain fell at intervals. It was one of those colourlessdays when everything looks heavy and harsh. The houses frowned atus, the dust rose at us, the smoke swooped at us, nothing made anycompromise about itself or wore a softened aspect. I fancied mybeautiful girl quite out of place in the rugged streets, and Ithought there were more funerals passing along the dismal pavementsthan I had ever seen before.

　　We had first to find out Symond's Inn. We were going to inquire ina shop when Ada said she thought it was near Chancery Lane. "Weare not likely to be far out, my love, if we go in that direction,"said I. So to Chancery Lane we went, and there, sure enough, wesaw it written up. Symond's Inn.

　　We had next to find out the number. "Or Mr. Vholes's office willdo," I recollected, "for Mr. Vholes's office is next door." Uponwhich Ada said, perhaps that was Mr. Vholes's office in the cornerthere. And it really was.

　　Then came the question, which of the two next doors? I was goingfor the one, and my darling was going for the other; and my darlingwas right again. So up we went to the second story, when we cameto Richard's name in great white letters on a hearse-like panel.

　　I should have knocked, but Ada said perhaps we had better turn thehandle and go in. Thus we came to Richard, poring over a tablecovered with dusty bundles of papers which seemed to me like dustymirrors reflecting his own mind. Wherever I looked I saw theominous words that ran in it repeated. Jarndyce and Jarndyce.

　　He received us very affectionately, and we sat down. "If you hadcome a little earlier," he said, "you would have found Woodcourthere. There never was such a good fellow as Woodcourt is. Hefinds time to look in between-whiles, when anybody else with halfhis work to do would be thinking about not being able to come. Andhe is so cheery, so fresh, so sensible, so earnest, so--everythingthat I am not, that the place brightens whenever he comes, anddarkens whenever he goes again.""God bless him," I thought, "for his truth to me!""He is not so sanguine, Ada," continued Richard, casting hisdejected look over the bundles of papers, "as Vholes and I areusually, but he is only an outsider and is not in the mysteries.

　　We have gone into them, and he has not. He can't be expe............