Here is Miss Summerson, sir. How do you do? Glad to see you. Mr. Jarndyce is not here? Really, it is as well that he is NOT here to-day, for his—shall I say, in my good friend’s absence, his indomitable singularity of opinion?—might have been strengthened, perhaps; not reasonably, but might have been strengthened. I beg your pardon? What has been done What has been done to-day? Quite so. Yes. Why, not much has been done; not much. We have been checked—brought up suddenly, I would say—upon the—shall I term it threshold?


Is this will considered a genuine document, sir? Will you tell us that?


Most certainly, if I could,


We have not gone into that,


You are to reflect, Mr. Woodcourt,


And patience has sat upon it a long time,


Very well indeed, sir. Very well! You are further to reflect, Mr. Woodcourt, that on the numerous difficulties, contingencies, masterly fictions, and forms of procedure in this great cause, there has been expended study, ability, eloquence, knowledge, intellect, Mr. Woodcourt, high intellect. For many years, the—a—I would say the flower of the bar, and the—a—I would presume to add, the matured autumnal fruits of the woolsack—have been lavished upon Jarndyce and Jarndyce. If the public have the benefit, and if the country have the adornment, of this great grasp, it must be paid for in money or money’s worth, sir.


Mr. Kenge. Excuse me, our time presses. Do I understand that the whole estate is found to have been absorbed in costs?


Hem! I believe so. Mr. Vholes, what do YOU say?


I believe so,


And that thus the suit lapses and melts away?


Probably. Mr. Vholes?


Probably,


My dearest life, this will break Richard’s heart!


In case you should be wanting Mr. C., sir, you’ll find him in court. I left him there resting himself a little. Good day, sir; good day, Miss Summerson.


My dear love, leave to me, for a little while, the charge you gave me. Go home with this intelligence and come to Ada’s by and by!


Little woman, to have done with the suit on any terms is a greater blessing than I had looked for. But my poor young cousins!


Dame Durden, kiss me, my dear!


Yes, surely, dearest Richard!


Where is Woodcourt? Who is that, Dame Durden?


Yes,


Oh, sir, you are a good man, you are a good man!


My dear Rick, the clouds have cleared away, and it is bright now. We can see now. We were all bewildered, Rick, more or less. What matters! And how are you, my dear boy?


I am very weak, sir, but I hope I shall be stronger. I have to begin the world.


Aye, truly; well said!


I will not begin it in the old way now. I have learned a lesson now, sir. It was a hard one, but you shall be assured, indeed, that I have learned it.


Well, well, well, well, well, dear boy!


I was thinking, sir, that there is nothing on earth I should so much like to see as their house—Dame Durden’s and Woodcourt’s house. If I could be removed there when I begin to recover my strength, I feel as if I should get well there sooner than anywhere.


Why, so have I been thinking too, Rick, and our little woman likewise; she and I have been talking of it this very day. I dare say her husband won’t object. What do you think?


I say nothing of Ada, but I think of her, and have thought of her very much. Look at her! See her here, sir, bending over this pillow when she has so much need to rest upon it herself, my dear love, my poor girl! When I get down to Bleak House. I shall have much to tell you, sir, and you will have much to show me. You will go, won’t you?


Undoubtedly, dear Rick.


Thank you; like you, like you. But it’s all like you. They have been telling me how you planned it and how you remembered all Esther’s familiar tastes and ways. It will be like coming to the old Bleak House again.


And you will come there too, I hope, Rick. I am a solitary man now, you know, and it will be a charity to come to me. A charity to come to me, my love!


It was a troubled dream?


Nothing more, Rick; nothing more.


And you, being a good man, can pass it as such, and forgive and pity the dreamer, and be lenient and encouraging when he wakes?


Indeed I can. What am I but another dreamer, Rick?


I will begin the world! When shall I go from this place to that pleasant country where the old times are, where I shall have strength to tell what Ada has been to me, where I shall be able to recall my many faults and blindnesses, where I shall prepare myself to be a guide to my unborn child? When shall I go?


Dear Rick, when you are strong enough,


Ada, my darling! I have done you many wrongs, my own. I have fallen like a poor stray shadow on your way, I have married you to poverty and trouble, I have scattered your means to the winds. You will forgive me all this, my Ada, before I begin the world?


But I never own to it before the old girl. Discipline must be maintained.


Both houses are your home, my dear, but the older Bleak House claims priority. When you and my boy are strong enough to do it, come and take possession of your home.


her dearest cousin, John.


no, it must be guardian now.


Yes, dear guardian!


he has two mamas, and I am one.


My precious little woman, what are you doing here?


The moon is shining so brightly, Allan, and the night is so delicious, that I have been sitting here thinking.


What have you been thinking about, my dear?


How curious you are! I am almost ashamed to tell you, but I will. I have been thinking about my old looks—such as they were.


And what have you been thinking about THEM, my busy bee?


I have been thinking that I thought it was impossible that you COULD have loved me any better, even if I had retained them.


‘Such as they were’?


Such as they were, of course.


My dear Dame Durden, do you ever look in the glass?


You know I do; you see me do it.


And don’t you know that you are prettier than you ever were?