It happened that when I came home from Deal I found a note from Caddy Jellyby (as we always continued to call her), informing me that her health, which had been for some time very delicate, was worse and that she would be more glad than she could tell me if I would go to see her.

When I came home from Deal I found a note from Caddy, informing me that her health, which had been for some time very delicate, was worse and that she would be very glad if I would go to see her.


It was a note of a few lines, written from the couch on which she lay and enclosed to me in another from her husband, in which he seconded her entreaty with much solicitude.

It was a short note, written from her bed.


Caddy was now the mother, and I the godmother, of such a poor little baby--such a tiny old-faced mite, with a countenance that seemed to be scarcely anything but cap-border, and a little lean, long-fingered hand, always clenched under its chin.

Caddy was now the mother, and I the godmother, of such a poor little baby - such a tiny old-faced mite, with a little lean, long-fingered hand always clenched under its chin.


It would lie in this attitude all day, with its bright specks of eyes open, wondering (as I used to imagine) how it came to be so small and weak.

It would lie in this attitude all day, with its bright specks of eyes open, wondering (I used to imagine) how it came to be so small and weak.


Whenever it was moved it cried, but at all other times it was so patient that the sole desire of its life appeared to be to lie quiet and think.

Whenever it was moved it cried, but at all other times it lay quiet.


It had curious little dark veins in its face and curious little dark marks under its eyes like faint remembrances of poor Caddy's inky days, and altogether, to those who were not used to it, it was quite a piteous little sight.

It had curious little dark marks under its eyes, and was quite a piteous sight.


But it was enough for Caddy that SHE was used to it. The projects with which she beguiled her illness, for little Esther's education, and little Esther's marriage, and even for her own old age as the grandmother of little Esther's little Esthers, was so prettily expressive of devotion to this pride of her life that I should be tempted to recall some of them but for the timely remembrance that I am getting on irregularly as it is.

But Caddy was devoted to it, and full of projects for little Esther's education, and little Esther's marriage, and even for her own old age as the grandmother of little Esther's little Esthers.


Caddy had a superstition about me which had been strengthening in her mind ever since that night long ago when she had lain asleep with her head in my lap. She almost--I think I must say quite--believed that I did her good whenever I was near her.

Caddy had a superstition about me: she almost believed that I did her good whenever I was near her.


Now although this was such a fancy of the affectionate girl's that I am almost ashamed to mention it, still it might have all the force of a fact when she was really ill.

Now although this was a fancy, still it might have the force of a fact when she was ill.


Therefore I set off to Caddy, with my guardian's consent, post-haste; and she and Prince made so much of me that there never was anything like it.

Therefore I set off to Caddy, with my guardian's consent; and she and Prince made so much of me that there never was anything like it.


Next day I went again to sit with her, and next day I went again.

Next day and the day after, I went again to sit with her.


It was a very easy journey, for I had only to rise a little earlier in the morning, and keep my accounts, and attend to housekeeping matters before leaving home.

It was a very easy journey, for I had only to rise a little earlier in the morning, and attend to housekeeping matters before leaving home.


But when I had made these three visits, my guardian said to me, on my return at night, "Now, little woman, little woman, this will never do.

But when I had made these three visits, my guardian said, on my return at night, "Now, little woman, this will never do.


Constant dropping will wear away a stone, and constant coaching will wear out a Dame Durden.

Constant travel will wear out a Dame Durden.


We will go to London for a while and take possession of our old lodgings."

We will go to London for a while, to our old lodgings."


"Not for me, dear guardian," said I, "for I never feel tired," which was strictly true.

"Not for me. I never feel tired, dear guardian," said I, which was strictly true.


I was only too happy to be in such request.

I was only too happy to be in such demand.


"For me then," returned my guardian, "or for Ada, or for both of us.

"For me then," returned my guardian, "or for Ada.


It is somebody's birthday to-morrow, I think."

It is somebody's birthday tomorrow, I think."


"Truly I think it is," said I, kissing my darling, who would be twenty-one to-morrow.

"Truly I think it is," said I, kissing my darling, who would be twenty-one tomorrow.


"Well," observed my guardian, half pleasantly, half seriously, "that's a great occasion and will give my fair cousin some necessary business to transact in assertion of her independence, and will make London a more convenient place for all of us.

"Well," observed my guardian, "that's a great occasion and will give my fair cousin some necessary business to transact, and will make London more convenient for all of us.


That being settled, there is another thing--how have you left Caddy?"


I fear it will be some time before she regains her health and strength."

I fear it will be some weeks before she regains her health and strength."


He began to walk about the room with his hands in his pockets, showing that he had been thinking as much.

He began to walk about the room with his hands in his pockets.


I felt obliged to confess that I knew nothing to the contrary but that Prince and I had agreed only that evening that we would like his opinion to be confirmed by some one.

I confessed that Prince and I had agreed only that day that we would like his opinion to be confirmed by some one.


"Well, you know," returned my guardian quickly, "there's Woodcourt."


I had not meant that, and was rather taken by surprise. For a moment all that I had had in my mind in connexion with Mr. Woodcourt seemed to come back and confuse me.

I was rather taken by surprise; and, for a moment, confused.


"You don't object to him, little woman?"


"And you don't think the patient would object to him?"


So far from that, I had no doubt of her being prepared to have a great reliance on him and to like him very much. I said that he was no stranger to her personally, for she had seen him often in his kind attendance on Miss Flite.

I had no doubt that she would like him very much, for she had seen him often in his kind attendance on Miss Flite.


"He has been here to-day, my dear, and I will see him about it to-morrow."

"He has been here today, my dear, and I will see him about it tomorrow."


I felt in this short conversation--though I did not know how, for she was quiet, and we interchanged no look--that my dear girl well remembered how merrily she had clasped me round the waist when no other hands than Caddy's had brought me the little parting token.

I felt in this short conversation - though she was quiet - that my dear girl remembered how merrily she had clasped me round the waist when Caddy had brought me the little parting token of the flowers.


This caused me to feel that I ought to tell her, and Caddy too, that I was going to be the mistress of Bleak House and that if I avoided that disclosure any longer I might become less worthy in my own eyes of its master's love.

This made me feel that I ought to tell her, and Caddy too, that I was going to be the mistress of Bleak House, and that if I avoided that disclosure any longer I might become less worthy in my own eyes of its master's love.


Therefore, when we went upstairs and had waited listening until the clock struck twelve in order that only I might be the first to wish my darling all good wishes on her birthday and to take her to my heart, I set before her, just as I had set before myself, the goodness and honour of her cousin John and the happy life that was in store for me.

Therefore, when we went upstairs and had waited until the clock struck twelve so that I might be the first to wish my darling a happy birthday, I set before her the goodness and honour of her cousin John and the happy life that was in store for me.


If ever my darling were fonder of me at one time than another in all our intercourse, she was surely fondest of me that night.

If ever my darling were fond of me, she was surely fondest of me that night.


And I was so rejoiced to know it and so comforted by the sense of having done right in casting this last idle reservation away that I was ten times happier than I had been before.

And I was so rejoiced to know it and so comforted that I was ten times happier than I had been before.


I had scarcely thought it a reservation a few hours ago, but now that it was gone I felt as if I understood its nature better.


We found our old lodging vacant, and in half an hour were quietly established there, as if we had never gone away.

In half an hour we were quietly established in our old lodging, as if we had never gone away.


Mr. Woodcourt dined with us to celebrate my darling's birthday, and we were as pleasant as we could be with the great blank among us that Richard's absence naturally made on such an occasion.

Mr. Woodcourt dined with us to celebrate my darling's birthday, and we were as pleasant as we could be without Richard there.


After that day I was for some weeks--eight or nine as I remember--very much with Caddy, and thus it fell out that I saw less of Ada at this time than any other since we had first come together, except the time of my own illness.

After that day I was for some eight weeks very much with Caddy, and so I saw less of Ada than at any other time since we had first come together, except the time of my own illness.


She often came to Caddy's, but our function there was to amuse and cheer her, and we did not talk in our usual confidential manner.

Ada often came to Caddy's, but our function there was to amuse and cheer her, and we did not talk in our usual confidential manner.


Whenever I went home at night we were together, but Caddy's rest was broken by pain, and I often remained to nurse her.


With her husband and her poor little mite of a baby to love and their home to strive for, what a good creature Caddy was!


So self-denying, so uncomplaining, so anxious to get well on their account, so afraid of giving trouble, and so thoughtful of the unassisted labours of her husband and the comforts of old Mr. Turveydrop; I had never known the best of her until now.

So self-denying, so uncomplaining, so anxious to get well on her family's account, so afraid of giving trouble; I had never known the best of her until now.


And it seemed so curious that her pale face and helpless figure should be lying there day after day where dancing was the business of life, where the kit and the apprentices began early every morning in the ball-room, and where the untidy little boy waltzed by himself in the kitchen all the afternoon.

It seemed curious that her pale face and helpless figure should be lying there day after day where dancing was the business of life, where the apprentices began early every morning in the ball-room, and the untidy little boy waltzed by himself in the kitchen.


At Caddy's request I took the supreme direction of her apartment, trimmed it up, and pushed her, couch and all, into a lighter and more airy and more cheerful corner than she had yet occupied; then, every day, when we were in our neatest array, I used to lay my small small namesake in her arms and sit down to chat or work or read to her.

At Caddy's request I re-arranged her apartment, and pushed her, couch and all, into a lighter and more airy corner; then, every day, I used to lay my small namesake in her arms and sit down to chat or sew or read to her.


It was at one of the first of these quiet times that I told Caddy about Bleak House.

At one of these quiet times I told Caddy about Bleak House.


First of all we had Prince, who in his hurried intervals of teaching used to come softly in and sit softly down, with a face of loving anxiety for Caddy and the very little child.

First of all we had Prince, who in his hurried intervals of teaching used to come softly in and sit down with a face of loving anxiety.


Whatever Caddy's condition really was, she never failed to declare to Prince that she was all but well--which I, heaven forgive me, never failed to confirm.

However Caddy felt, she always declared to Prince that she was almost well.


This would put Prince in such good spirits that he would sometimes take the kit from his pocket and play a chord or two to astonish the baby, which I never knew it to do in the least degree, for my tiny namesake never noticed it at all.

This would put Prince in such good spirits that he would sometimes take the kit from his pocket and play a chord or two to astonish the baby, who never noticed it at all.


She would come occasionally, with her usual distraught manner, and sit calmly looking miles beyond her grandchild as if her attention were absorbed by a young Borrioboolan on its native shores.

She would come occasionally, with her usual distracted manner, and sit calmly looking miles beyond her grandchild as if her attention were absorbed by a young Borrioboolan on its native shores.


As bright-eyed as ever, as serene, and as untidy, she would say, "Well, Caddy, child, and how do you do to-day?"

As bright-eyed and serene as ever, she would say, "Well, Caddy, child, and how do you do today?"


And then would sit amiably smiling and taking no notice of the reply or would sweetly glide off into a calculation of the number of letters she had lately received and answered or of the coffee-bearing power of Borrioboola-Gha.

And then would sit amiably smiling and taking no notice of the reply.


This she would always do with a serene contempt for our limited sphere of action, not to be disguised.


Then there was old Mr. Turveydrop, who was from morning to night and from night to morning the subject of innumerable precautions.

Then there was old Mr. Turveydrop, who was from morning to night the subject of innumerable precautions.


If the baby cried, it was nearly stifled lest the noise should make him uncomfortable.


If the fire wanted stirring in the night, it was surreptitiously done lest his rest should be broken.


If Caddy required any little comfort that the house contained, she first carefully discussed whether he was likely to require it too.


In return for this consideration he would come into the room once a day, all but blessing it--showing a condescension, and a patronage, and a grace of manner in dispensing the light of his high-shouldered presence from which I might have supposed him (if I had not known better) to have been the benefactor of Caddy's life.

In return for this consideration he would come into the room once a day, showing her condescension and graceful patronage.


"My Caroline," he would say, making the nearest approach that he could to bending over her. "Tell me that you are better to-day."

"My Caroline," he would say, "Tell me that you are better today."


"Oh, much better, thank you, Mr. Turveydrop," Caddy would reply.


She is not quite prostrated by fatigue?"


Here he would crease up his eyelids and kiss his fingers to me, though I am happy to say he had ceased to be particular in his attentions since I had been so altered.

Here he would kiss his fingers to me, though I am happy to say he had ceased to be particular in his attentions since I had been so altered.


"We must take care of our dear Caroline, Miss Summerson.


We must spare nothing that will restore her.


My dear Caroline"--he would turn to his daughter-in-law with infinite generosity and protection--"want for nothing, my love.

My dear Caroline" - he would turn to his daughter-in-law with infinite generosity - "want for nothing, my love.


Frame a wish and gratify it, my daughter.


Everything this house contains, everything my room contains, is at your service, my dear.

Everything this house contains is at your service, my dear.


Do not," he would sometimes add in a burst of deportment, "even allow my simple requirements to be considered if they should at any time interfere with your own, my Caroline."


Your necessities are greater than mine."


He had established such a long prescriptive right to this deportment (his son's inheritance from his mother) that I several times knew both Caddy and her husband to be melted to tears by these affectionate self-sacrifices.

Several times both Caddy and her husband were melted to tears by these affectionate self-sacrifices.


"Nay, my dears," he would remonstrate; and when I saw Caddy's thin arm about his fat neck as he said it, I would be melted too, though not by the same process.

"Nay, my dears," he would remonstrate; and when I saw Caddy's thin arm about his fat neck as he said it, I would be melted too, though not for the same reason.


Be dutiful and affectionate towards me, and I ask no other return.


He would take the air there presently and get an appetite for his hotel dinner.

There he would take the air and get an appetite for his hotel dinner.


I hope I do old Mr. Turveydrop no wrong, but I never saw any better traits in him than these I faithfully record, except that he certainly conceived a liking for Peepy and would take the child out walking with great pomp, always on those occasions sending him home before he went to dinner himself, and occasionally with a halfpenny in his pocket.

I hope I do old Mr. Turveydrop no wrong, but I never saw any better traits in him than these, except that he certainly conceived a liking for Peepy and would take the child out walking with great pomp.


But even this disinterestedness was attended with no inconsiderable cost, to my knowledge, for before Peepy was sufficiently decorated to walk hand in hand with the professor of deportment, he had to be newly dressed, at the expense of Caddy and her husband, from top to toe.

Even so, before Peepy was sufficiently decorated to walk hand in hand with the professor of deportment, he had to be newly dressed, at the expense of Caddy and her husband, from top to toe.


Last of our visitors, there was Mr. Jellyby.


Really when he used to come in of an evening, and ask Caddy in his meek voice how she was, and then sit down with his head against the wall, and make no attempt to say anything more, I liked him very much.

When he used to come in of an evening, and ask Caddy in his meek voice how she was, and then sit down quietly with his head against the wall, I liked him very much.


If he found me bustling about doing any little thing, he sometimes half took his coat off, as if with an intention of helping by a great exertion; but he never got any further.

If he found me bustling about doing any little thing, he sometimes half took his coat off, as if with an intention of helping; but he never got any further.


His sole occupation was to sit with his head against the wall, looking hard at the thoughtful baby; and I could not quite divest my mind of a fancy that they understood one another.

His sole occupation was to sit with his head against the wall, looking hard at the thoughtful baby; and I almost fancied that they understood one another.


I have not counted Mr. Woodcourt among our visitors because he was now Caddy's regular attendant.

Mr. Woodcourt was now Caddy's regular attendant.


She soon began to improve under his care, but he was so gentle, so skilful, so unwearying in the pains he took that it is not to be wondered at, I am sure.

He was so gentle, so skilful, and so unwearying that she soon began to improve under his care.


I saw a good deal of Mr. Woodcourt during this time, though not so much as might be supposed, for knowing Caddy to be safe in his hands, I often slipped home at about the hours when he was expected.

I saw a good deal of Mr. Woodcourt during this time, although I often slipped home at the hours when he was expected, knowing Caddy to be safe in his hands.


I was quite reconciled to myself now, but I still felt glad to think that he was sorry for me, and he still WAS sorry for me I believed.

I was quite reconciled to myself now, but I still felt glad to think that he was sorry for me.


He helped Mr. Badger in his professional engagements, which were numerous, and had as yet no settled projects for the future.

He helped Dr. Badger in his professional engagements, and had as yet no settled projects for the future.


It was when Caddy began to recover that I began to notice a change in my dear girl.

It was when Caddy began to recover that I began to notice a change in my dear Ada.


I cannot say how it first presented itself to me, because I observed it in many slight particulars which were nothing in themselves and only became something when they were pieced together.


But I made it out, by putting them together, that Ada was not so frankly cheerful with me as she used to be.

It seemed she was not so frankly cheerful with me as she used to be.


Her tenderness for me was as loving and true as ever; I did not for a moment doubt that; but there was a quiet sorrow about her which she did not confide to me, and in which I traced some hidden regret.

Her tenderness for me was as loving and true as ever; but there was a quiet sorrow about her, in which I traced some hidden regret.


Now, I could not understand this, and I was so anxious for the happiness of my own pet that it caused me some uneasiness and set me thinking often.

Now, I could not understand this, and I was so anxious for the happiness of my own pet that it caused me some uneasiness.


At length, feeling sure that Ada suppressed this something from me lest it should make me unhappy too, it came into my head that she was a little grieved--for me--by what I had told her about Bleak House.

At length, feeling sure that Ada was suppressing something from me lest it should make me unhappy too, I thought she might be grieved - for me - by what I had told her about Bleak House.


How I persuaded myself that this was likely, I don't know.


I had no idea that there was any selfish reference in my doing so.


I was not grieved for myself: I was quite contented and quite happy.

I was not grieved for myself: I was quite contented.


Still, that Ada might be thinking--for me, though I had abandoned all such thoughts--of what once was, but was now all changed, seemed so easy to believe that I believed it.

Still, I believed that Ada might be thinking of what once was, but was now all changed.


What could I do to reassure my darling (I considered then) and show her that I had no such feelings?


I could only be as brisk and busy as possible, and that I had tried to be all along.

I could only be as brisk and busy as possible.


However, as Caddy's illness had certainly interfered, more or less, with my home duties--though I had always been there in the morning to make my guardian's breakfast, and he had a hundred times laughed and said there must be two little women, for his little woman was never missing--I resolved to be doubly diligent and gay.

As Caddy's illness had certainly interfered with my home duties, I resolved to be doubly diligent and gay.


So I went about the house humming all the tunes I knew, and I sat working and working in a desperate manner, and I talked and talked, morning, noon, and night.


And still there was the same shade between me and my darling.


"So, Dame Trot," observed my guardian, shutting up his book one night when we were all three together, "so Woodcourt has restored Caddy Jellyby to the full enjoyment of life again?"

"So, Dame Trot," observed my guardian one night when we were all three together, "so Woodcourt has restored Caddy to the full enjoyment of life again?"


"Yes," I said; "and to be repaid by such gratitude as hers is to be made rich, guardian."


"I wish it was," he returned, "with all my heart."


We would make him as rich as a Jew if we knew how.

We would make him truly rich if we knew how.


I laughed as I worked and replied that I was not sure about that, for it might spoil him, and he might not be so useful, and there might be many who could ill spare him.

I laughed as I sewed and replied that I was not sure about that, for it might spoil him, and he might not be so useful.


As Miss Flite, and Caddy herself, and many others.


But we would agree to make him rich enough to live, I suppose?


Rich enough to work with tolerable peace of mind?


Rich enough to have his own happy home and his own household gods--and household goddess, too, perhaps?"

Rich enough to have his own happy home and his own household gods - and household goddess, too, perhaps?"


I have a great regard for Woodcourt, a high esteem for him; and I have been sounding him delicately about his plans.

"I have a great regard for Woodcourt; and I have been asking him delicately about his plans.


It is difficult to offer aid to an independent man with that just kind of pride which he possesses. And yet I would be glad to do it if I might or if I knew how.

It is difficult to offer aid to such an independent man; and yet I would be glad to do it if I knew how.


He seems half inclined for another voyage.


But that appears like casting such a man away."


"It might open a new world to him," said I.


"So it might, little woman," my guardian assented.


"I doubt if he expects much of the old world.


Do you know I have fancied that he sometimes feels some particular disappointment or misfortune encountered in it.


You never heard of anything of that sort?"


As there was a little pause here, which I thought, for my dear girl's satisfaction, had better be filled up, I hummed an air as I worked which was a favourite with my guardian.

As there was a little pause here, I hummed an air as I worked which was a favourite with my guardian.


"And do you think Mr. Woodcourt will make another voyage?"


I asked him when I had hummed it quietly all through.


"I don't quite know what to think, my dear, but I should say it was likely at present that he will give a long trip to another country."

"I don't quite know, my dear, but I should say it was likely."


"I am sure he will take the best wishes of all our hearts with him wherever he goes," said I; "and though they are not riches, he will never be the poorer for them, guardian, at least."


I was sitting in my usual place, which was now beside my guardian's chair.


That had not been my usual place before the letter, but it was now.


I looked up to Ada, who was sitting opposite, and I saw, as she looked at me, that her eyes were filled with tears and that tears were falling down her face.

I looked up to Ada, who was sitting opposite, and I saw that her eyes were filled with tears.


I felt that I had only to be placid and merry once for all to undeceive my dear and set her loving heart at rest.

I felt that I had only to be placid and merry once for all to set her loving heart at rest.


I really was so, and I had nothing to do but to be myself.


So I made my sweet girl lean upon my shoulder--how little thinking what was heavy on her mind!--and I said she was not quite well, and put my arm about her, and took her upstairs.

So I made my sweet girl lean upon my shoulder - little thinking what was heavy on her mind! - and I said she was not quite well, and put my arm about her, and took her upstairs.


When we were in our own room, and when she might perhaps have told me what I was so unprepared to hear, I gave her no encouragement to confide in me; I never thought she stood in need of it.


"Oh, my dear good Esther," said Ada, "if I could only make up my mind to speak to you and my cousin John when you are together!"


Ada only dropped her head and pressed me closer to her heart.


"You surely don't forget, my beauty," said I, smiling, "what quiet, old-fashioned people we are and how I have settled down to be the discreetest of dames?


You don't forget how happily and peacefully my life is all marked out for me, and by whom?"


I am certain that you don't forget by what a noble character, Ada.


"Why then, my dear," said I, "there can be nothing amiss--and why should you not speak to us?"

"Why then, my dear," said I, "there can be nothing amiss. Why should you not speak to us?"


"Oh, when I think of all these years, and of his fatherly care and kindness, and of the old relations among us, and of you, what shall I do, what shall I do!"


I looked at my child in some wonder, but I thought it better not to answer otherwise than by cheering her, and so I turned off into many little recollections of our life together and prevented her from saying more.

I looked at my child in some wonder, but I thought it better not to answer otherwise than by cheering her with many little recollections of our life together.


When she lay down to sleep, and not before, I returned to my guardian to say good night, and then I came back to Ada and sat near her for a little while.


She was asleep, and I thought as I looked at her that she was a little changed.


I could not decide, even looking at her while she was unconscious, how she was changed, but something in the familiar beauty of her face looked different to me.

Something in the familiar beauty of her face looked different to me.


My guardian's old hopes of her and Richard arose sorrowfully in my mind, and I said to myself, "She has been anxious about him," and I wondered how that love would end.


When I had come home from Caddy's while she was ill, I had often found Ada at work, and she had always put her work away, and I had never known what it was.

When I had come home from Caddy's while she was ill, I had often found Ada at her needlework, and she had always put her work away, and I had never known what it was.


Some of it now lay in a drawer near her, which was not quite closed.

Some of it now lay in a drawer near her, which I did not open.


I did not open the drawer, but I still rather wondered what the work could be, for it was evidently nothing for herself.

But I wondered what the work could be, for it was evidently nothing for herself.


And I noticed as I kissed my dear that she lay with one hand under her pillow so that it was hidden.


How much less amiable I must have been than they thought me, how much less amiable than I thought myself, to be so preoccupied with my own cheerfulness and contentment as to think that it only rested with me to put my dear girl right and set her mind at peace!

How much less amiable I must have been than I thought, to be so preoccupied with my own cheerfulness and contentment as to think that it only rested with me to put my dear girl right and set her mind at peace!


But I lay down, self-deceived, in that belief.


And I awoke in it next day to find that there was still the same shade between me and my darling.


Refreshed by sleep, Mr. Bucket rises betimes in the morning and prepares for a field-day.

Refreshed by sleep, Mr. Bucket rises and prepares for a field-day.


Smartened up by the aid of a clean shirt and a wet hairbrush, with which instrument, on occasions of ceremony, he lubricates such thin locks as remain to him after his life of severe study, Mr. Bucket lays in a breakfast of two mutton chops as a foundation to work upon, together with tea, eggs, toast, and marmalade on a corresponding scale.

He lays in a breakfast of two mutton chops as a foundation to work upon, together with tea, eggs, toast, and marmalade.


Having much enjoyed these strengthening matters and having held subtle conference with his familiar demon, he confidently instructs Mercury "just to mention quietly to Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, that whenever he's ready for me, I'm ready for him."

He instructs the footman "just to mention quietly to Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, that whenever he's ready for me, I'm ready for him."


A gracious message being returned that Sir Leicester will expedite his dressing and join Mr. Bucket in the library within ten minutes, Mr. Bucket repairs to that apartment and stands before the fire with his finger on his chin, looking at the blazing coals.

A gracious message being returned that Sir Leicester will be in the library within ten minutes, Mr. Bucket goes there and stands before the fire with his finger on his chin, looking at the blazing coals.


Thoughtful Mr. Bucket is, as a man may be with weighty work to do, but composed, sure, confident.

Thoughtful Mr. Bucket is, but composed, sure, confident.


From the expression of his face he might be a famous whist-player for a large stake--say a hundred guineas certain--with the game in his hand, but with a high reputation involved in his playing his hand out to the last card in a masterly way.


Not in the least anxious or disturbed is Mr. Bucket when Sir Leicester appears, but he eyes the baronet aside as he comes slowly to his easy-chair with that observant gravity of yesterday in which there might have been yesterday, but for the audacity of the idea, a touch of compassion.

Not in the least anxious or disturbed is he when Sir Leicester appears, but he eyes the baronet as he comes slowly to his easy-chair with that observant gravity of yesterday, in which there might have been a touch of compassion.


"I am sorry to have kept you waiting, officer, but I am rather later than my usual hour this morning.


The agitation and the indignation from which I have recently suffered have been too much for me.


I am subject to--gout"--Sir Leicester was going to say indisposition and would have said it to anybody else, but Mr. Bucket palpably knows all about it--"and recent circumstances have brought it on."

I am subject to - gout - and recent circumstances have brought it on."


As he takes his seat with some difficulty and with an air of pain, Mr. Bucket draws a little nearer, standing with one of his large hands on the library-table.

As Sir Leicester takes his seat with some difficulty and with an air of pain, Mr. Bucket draws a little nearer.


"I am not aware, officer," Sir Leicester observes; raising his eyes to his face, "whether you wish us to be alone, but that is entirely as you please.

"I am not aware, officer," Sir Leicester observes, raising his eyes to his face, "whether you wish us to be alone."


If not, Miss Dedlock would be interested--"


"Why, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," returns Mr. Bucket with his head persuasively on one side and his forefinger pendant at one ear like an earring, "we can't be too private just at present.

"Why, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," returns Mr. Bucket with his head on one side and his forefinger at one ear like an earring, "we can't be too private just at present.


You will presently see that we can't be too private.


A lady, under the circumstances, and especially in Miss Dedlock's elevated station of society, can't but be agreeable to me, but speaking without a view to myself, I will take the liberty of assuring you that I know we can't be too private."


"So much so, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," Mr. Bucket resumes, "that I was on the point of asking your permission to turn the key in the door."


Mr. Bucket skilfully and softly takes that precaution, stooping on his knee for a moment from mere force of habit so to adjust the key in the lock as that no one shall peep in from the outerside.

Mr. Bucket skilfully takes that precaution, adjusting the key in the lock so that no one shall peep in from outside.


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I mentioned yesterday evening that I wanted but a very little to complete this case.

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I mentioned yesterday evening that I wanted very little to complete this case.


I have now completed it and collected proof against the person who did this crime."


"No, Sir Leicester Dedlock; not the soldier."


Sir Leicester looks astounded and inquires, "Is the man in custody?"


Mr. Bucket tells him, after a pause, "It was a woman."


Sir Leicester leans back in his chair, and breathlessly ejaculates, "Good heaven!"


"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," Mr. Bucket begins, standing over him with one hand spread out on the library-table and the forefinger of the other in impressive use, "it's my duty to prepare you for a train of circumstances that may, and I go so far as to say that will, give you a shock.

"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," Mr. Bucket begins, "it's my duty to prepare you for a train of circumstances that may, and I go so far as to say that will, give you a shock.


But Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, you are a gentleman, and I know what a gentleman is and what a gentleman is capable of. A gentleman can bear a shock when it must come, boldly and steadily.

But you are a gentleman, and a gentleman can bear a shock.


A gentleman can make up his mind to stand up against almost any blow.


Why, take yourself, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet.


If there's a blow to be inflicted on you, you naturally think of your family. You ask yourself, how would all them ancestors of yours, away to Julius Caesar--not to go beyond him at present--have borne that blow; you remember scores of them that would have borne it well; and you bear it well on their accounts, and to maintain the family credit.

If there's a blow to be inflicted on you, you bear it well on your ancestors' accounts, and to maintain the family credit.


That's the way you argue, and that's the way you act, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet."


Sir Leicester, leaning back in his chair and grasping the elbows, sits looking at him with a stony face.

Sir Leicester, leaning back in his chair and grasping its arms, sits looking at him with a stony face.


"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock," proceeds Mr. Bucket, "thus preparing you, let me beg of you not to trouble your mind for a moment as to anything having come to MY knowledge.

"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock," proceeds Mr. Bucket, "let me beg you not to trouble your mind as to anything having come to my knowledge.


I know so much about so many characters, high and low, that a piece of information more or less don't signify a straw.

I know so much about so many characters, high and low, that another piece of information don't signify a straw.


I don't suppose there's a move on the board that would surprise ME, and as to this or that move having taken place, why my knowing it is no odds at all, any possible move whatever (provided it's in a wrong direction) being a probable move according to my experience.

I don't suppose there's a move on the board that would surprise me.


Therefore, what I say to you, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, is, don't you go and let yourself be put out of the way because of my knowing anything of your family affairs."

Therefore, don't let yourself be put out of the way because of my knowing anything of your family affairs."


"I thank you for your preparation," returns Sir Leicester after a silence, without moving hand, foot, or feature, "which I hope is not necessary; though I give it credit for being well intended.

"I thank you for your preparation," returns Sir Leicester after a silence.


Also"--Sir Leicester seems to shrink in the shadow of his figure--"also, to take a seat, if you have no objection."


Mr. Bucket brings a chair and diminishes his shadow.


"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, with this short preface I come to the point.


Sir Leicester raises himself in his seat and stares at him fiercely.


Mr. Bucket brings the finger into play as an emollient.

Mr. Bucket brings the fore-finger into play.


"Lady Dedlock, you see she's universally admired. That's what her ladyship is; she's universally admired," says Mr. Bucket.

"Lady Dedlock, you see she's universally admired," says Mr. Bucket.


"I would greatly prefer, officer," Sir Leicester returns stiffly, "my Lady's name being entirely omitted from this discussion."


"So would I, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, but--it's impossible."

"So would I, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, but - it's impossible.


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, it's altogether impossible.


What I have got to say is about her ladyship.


"Officer," retorts Sir Leicester with a fiery eye and a quivering lip, "you know your duty. Do your duty, but be careful not to overstep it.

"Officer," retorts Sir Leicester with a fiery eye and a quivering lip, "do your duty, but be careful not to overstep it.


You bring my Lady's name into this communication upon your responsibility--upon your responsibility.


My Lady's name is not a name for common persons to trifle with!"


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I say what I must say, and no more."


Glancing at the angry eyes which now avoid him and at the angry figure trembling from head to foot, yet striving to be still, Mr. Bucket feels his way with his forefinger and in a low voice proceeds.

Glancing at the angry eyes which now avoid him and at the angry figure trembling from head to foot, Mr. Bucket feels his way with his forefinger and in a low voice proceeds.


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, it becomes my duty to tell you that the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn long entertained mistrusts and suspicions of Lady Dedlock."

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, it becomes my duty to tell you that the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn long had mistrusts and suspicions of Lady Dedlock."


"If he had dared to breathe them to me, sir--which he never did--I would have killed him myself!"

"If he had dared to breathe them to me, sir - which he never did - I would have killed him myself!"


exclaims Sir Leicester, striking his hand upon the table.


But in the very heat and fury of the act he stops, fixed by the knowing eyes of Mr. Bucket, whose forefinger is slowly going and who, with mingled confidence and patience, shakes his head.

But in the very act he stops, fixed by the knowing eyes of Mr. Bucket, whose forefinger is slowly going and who shakes his head.


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn was deep and close, and what he fully had in his mind in the very beginning I can't quite take upon myself to say.

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn was deep, and what he fully had in his mind in the very beginning I can't say.


But I know from his lips that he long ago suspected Lady Dedlock of having discovered, through the sight of some handwriting--in this very house, and when you yourself, Sir Leicester Dedlock, were present--the existence, in great poverty, of a certain person who had been her lover before you courted her and who ought to have been her husband."

But I know from his lips that he long ago suspected Lady Dedlock of having discovered, through the sight of some handwriting, the existence, in great poverty, of a certain person who had been her lover before you courted her and who ought to have been her husband."


Mr. Bucket stops and deliberately repeats, "Ought to have been her husband, not a doubt about it.


I know from his lips that when that person soon afterwards died, he suspected Lady Dedlock of visiting his wretched lodging and his wretched grave, alone and in secret.

I know from his lips that when that person soon afterwards died, Mr. Tulkinghorn suspected Lady Dedlock of visiting his wretched lodging and his wretched grave, alone and in secret.


I know from my own inquiries and through my eyes and ears that Lady Dedlock did make such visit in the dress of her own maid, for the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn employed me to reckon up her ladyship--if you'll excuse my making use of the term we commonly employ--and I reckoned her up, so far, completely.

I know from my own inquiries and through my eyes that Lady Dedlock did make such a visit in the dress of her maid.


I confronted the maid in the chambers in Lincoln's Inn Fields with a witness who had been Lady Dedlock's guide, and there couldn't be the shadow of a doubt that she had worn the young woman's dress, unknown to her.


Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I did endeavour to pave the way a little towards these unpleasant disclosures yesterday by saying that very strange things happened even in high families sometimes.

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I did endeavour yesterday to pave the way towards these unpleasant disclosures by saying that strange things happen even in high families sometimes.


All this, and more, has happened in your own family, and to and through your own Lady.

All this, and more, has happened in your own family.


It's my belief that the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn followed up these inquiries to the hour of his death and that he and Lady Dedlock even had bad blood between them upon the matter that very night.

It's my belief that Mr. Tulkinghorn followed up these inquiries to the hour of his death and that he and Lady Dedlock even had an argument on the matter that very night.


Now, only you put that to Lady Dedlock, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, and ask her ladyship whether, even after he had left here, she didn't go down to his chambers with the intention of saying something further to him, dressed in a loose black mantle with a deep fringe to it."

Now, only you put that to Lady Dedlock, Sir, and ask her ladyship whether she didn't go down to his chambers with the intention of saying something further to him, dressed in a loose black mantle with a deep fringe to it."


Sir Leicester sits like a statue, gazing at the cruel finger that is probing the life-blood of his heart.


"You put that to her ladyship, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, from me, Inspector Bucket of the Detective.


And if her ladyship makes any difficulty about admitting of it, you tell her that it's no use, that Inspector Bucket knows it and knows that she passed the soldier as you called him (though he's not in the army now) and knows that she knows she passed him on the staircase.

"If her ladyship makes any difficulty about admitting of it, you tell her that it's no use, that Inspector Bucket knows it, and knows that she passed the soldier on the staircase.


Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, why do I relate all this?"


Sir Leicester, who has covered his face with his hands, uttering a single groan, requests him to pause for a moment.


By and by he takes his hands away, and so preserves his dignity and outward calmness, though there is no more colour in his face than in his white hair, that Mr. Bucket is a little awed by him.

By and by he takes his hands away in such dignity and outward calmness, though his face is as white as his hair, that Mr. Bucket is a little awed by him.


Something frozen and fixed is upon his manner, over and above its usual shell of haughtiness, and Mr. Bucket soon detects an unusual slowness in his speech, with now and then a curious trouble in beginning, which occasions him to utter inarticulate sounds.

Something frozen and fixed is upon his manner, over and above its usual shell of haughtiness, and Mr. Bucket soon detects an unusual slowness in his speech, with now and then a curious trouble in beginning, which makes him utter inarticulate sounds.


With such sounds he now breaks silence, soon, however, controlling himself to say that he does not comprehend why a gentleman so faithful and zealous as the late Mr. Tulkinghorn should have communicated to him nothing of this painful, this distressing, this unlooked-for, this overwhelming, this incredible intelligence.

With such sounds he now breaks silence, saying that he does not comprehend why a gentleman so faithful as the late Mr. Tulkinghorn should have told him nothing of this painful, this overwhelming, this incredible information.


"Again, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," returns Mr. Bucket, "put it to her ladyship to clear that up.


Put it to her ladyship, if you think it right, from Inspector Bucket of the Detective.


You'll find, or I'm much mistaken, that the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn had the intention of communicating the whole to you as soon as he considered it ripe, and further, that he had given her ladyship so to understand.

You'll find, or I'm much mistaken, that Mr. Tulkinghorn intended to communicate the whole to you as soon as he considered it ripe, and further, that he had told her ladyship so.


Why, he might have been going to reveal it the very morning when I examined the body!

Why, he might have been going to reveal it the very next morning!"


You don't know what I'm going to say and do five minutes from this present time, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet; and supposing I was to be picked off now, you might wonder why I hadn't done it, don't you see?"


Sir Leicester, avoiding, with some trouble those obtrusive sounds, says, "True."


At this juncture a considerable noise of voices is heard in the hall.

At this point a considerable noise of voices is heard in the hall.


Mr. Bucket, after listening, goes to the library-door, softly unlocks and opens it, and listens again.

Mr. Bucket goes to the library-door, softly unlocks and opens it, and listens again.


Then he draws in his head and whispers hurriedly but composedly, "Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, this unfortunate family affair has taken air, as I expected it might, the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn being cut down so sudden.

Then he draws in his head and whispers hurriedly but composedly, "Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, this unfortunate family affair has taken air, as I expected it might.


The chance to hush it is to let in these people now in a wrangle with your footmen.

The chance to hush it is to let in these people who are wrangling with your footmen.


Would you mind sitting quiet--on the family account--while I reckon 'em up?

Would you mind sitting quiet - on the family account - while I reckon 'em up?


And would you just throw in a nod when I seem to ask you for it?"


Sir Leicester indistinctly answers, "Officer. The best you can, the best you can!"

Sir Leicester indistinctly answers, "The best you can!"


and Mr. Bucket, with a nod and a sagacious crook of the forefinger, slips down into the hall, where the voices quickly die away.

and Mr. Bucket slips down into the hall.


He is not long in returning; a few paces ahead of Mercury and a brother deity also powdered and in peach-blossomed smalls, who bear between them a chair in which is an incapable old man.

He soon returns with two footmen, who bear between them a chair in which is an incapable old man.


Directing the pitching of the chair in an affable and easy manner, Mr. Bucket dismisses the Mercuries and locks the door again.

Directing the placing of the chair in an affable manner, Mr. Bucket dismisses the footmen and locks the door again.


Sir Leicester looks on at this invasion of the sacred precincts with an icy stare.

Sir Leicester looks on with an icy stare.


"Now, perhaps you may know me, ladies and gentlemen," says Mr. Bucket in a confidential voice.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen," says Mr. Bucket in a confidential voice.


"I am Inspector Bucket of the Detective, I am; and this," producing the tip of his convenient little staff from his breast-pocket, "is my authority.


Now, you wanted to see Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet.


You do see him, and mind you, it ain't every one as is admitted to that honour.

You do see him, and mind you, it ain't everyone as is admitted to that honour.


Your name, old gentleman, is Smallweed; that's what your name is; I know it well."

Your name, old gentleman, is Smallweed; I know it well."


"Well, and you never heard any harm of it!"


cries Mr. Smallweed in a shrill loud voice.


"You don't happen to know why they killed the pig, do you?"


retorts Mr. Bucket with a steadfast look, but without loss of temper.


"Why, they killed him," says Mr. Bucket, "on account of his having so much cheek.


Don't YOU get into the same position, because it isn't worthy of you.


"You ain't in the habit of conversing with a deaf person, are you?" asks Mr. Bucket.


"Yes," snarls Mr. Smallweed, "my wife's deaf."


"That accounts for your pitching your voice so high.


But as she ain't here; just pitch it an octave or two lower, will you, and I'll not only be obliged to you, but it'll do you more credit," says Mr. Bucket.

"As she ain't here, just pitch your voice an octave or two lower, will you, and it'll do you more credit," says Mr. Bucket.


"This other gentleman is in the preaching line, I think?"


"Name of Chadband," Mr. Smallweed puts in, speaking henceforth in a much lower key.

"Name of Chadband," Mr. Smallweed says, in a much lower key.


"Once had a friend and brother serjeant of the same name," says Mr. Bucket, offering his hand, "and consequently feel a liking for it.


"And Mrs. Snagsby," Mr. Smallweed introduces.

"And Mrs. Snagsby." Mr. Smallweed introduces them.


"Husband a law-stationer and a friend of my own," says Mr. Bucket.


"Do you mean what business have we come upon?"


Mr. Smallweed asks, a little dashed by the suddenness of this turn.


Let us hear what it's all about in presence of Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet.

Let us hear what it's all about in the presence of Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet."


Mr. Smallweed, beckoning Mr. Chadband, takes a moment's counsel with him in a whisper.

Mr. Smallweed, beckoning Mr. Chadband, consults with him in a whisper.


Mr. Chadband, expressing a considerable amount of oil from the pores of his forehead and the palms of his hands, says aloud, "Yes. You first!"

Mr. Chadband, expressing a considerable amount of oil from his forehead, says aloud, "You first!"


"I was the client and friend of Mr. Tulkinghorn," pipes Grandfather Smallweed then; "I did business with him.

"I was the client and friend of Mr. Tulkinghorn," pipes Grandfather Smallweed. "I did business with him.


I was useful to him, and he was useful to me.


Krook, dead and gone, was my brother-in-law.


He was own brother to a brimstone magpie--leastways Mrs. Smallweed.


I examined all his papers and all his effects.


There was a bundle of letters belonging to a dead and gone lodger as was hid away at the back of a shelf in the side of Lady Jane's bed--his cat's bed.

There was a bundle of letters belonging to a dead and gone lodger as was hid away at the back of a shelf in the side of the cat's bed.


He hid all manner of things away, everywheres.


Mr. Tulkinghorn wanted 'em and got 'em, but I looked 'em over first.

Mr. Tulkinghorn got 'em, but I looked 'em over first.


I'm a man of business, and I took a squint at 'em.


They was letters from the lodger's sweetheart, and she signed Honoria.


Dear me, that's not a common name, Honoria, is it?


There's no lady in this house that signs Honoria is there?

There's no lady in this house that signs Honoria, is there?


Here Mr. Smallweed, seized with a fit of coughing in the midst of his triumph, breaks off to ejaculate, "Oh, dear me!

Here Mr. Smallweed is seized with a fit of coughing in the midst of his triumph.


"Now, when you're ready," says Mr. Bucket after awaiting his recovery, "to come to anything that concerns Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, here the gentleman sits, you know."


Not with Captain Hawdon, and his ever affectionate Honoria, and their child into the bargain?


Come, then, I want to know where those letters are.


That concerns me, if it don't concern Sir Leicester Dedlock.


I handed 'em over to my friend and solicitor, Mr. Tulkinghorn, not to anybody else."


"Why, he paid you for them, you know, and handsome too," says Mr. Bucket.


And I tell you what we want--what we all here want, Mr. Bucket.

And I tell you what we want, Mr. Bucket.


We want more painstaking and search-making into this murder.

We want more search-making into this murder.


We know where the interest and the motive was, and you have not done enough.

We know where the motive was, and you have not done enough.


If George the vagabond dragoon had any hand in it, he was only an accomplice, and was set on.


You know what I mean as well as any man."


"Now I tell you what," says Mr. Bucket, instantaneously altering his manner, coming close to him, and communicating an extraordinary fascination to the forefinger, "I am damned if I am a-going to have my case spoilt, or interfered with, or anticipated by so much as half a second of time by any human being in creation.

"Now I tell you what," says Mr. Bucket, instantaneously altering his manner, "I am damned if I am a-going to have my case spoilt, or interfered with, by any human being in creation.


YOU want more painstaking and search-making!


Do you see this hand, and do you think that I don't know the right time to stretch it out and put it on the arm that fired that shot?"


Such is the dread power of the man, and so terribly evident it is that he makes no idle boast, that Mr. Smallweed begins to apologize.

Such is the dread power of the man that Mr. Smallweed begins to apologize.


Mr. Bucket, dismissing his sudden anger, checks him.

Mr. Bucket, dismissing his sudden anger, stops him.


"The advice I give you is, don't you trouble your head about the murder.


You keep half an eye on the newspapers, and I shouldn't wonder if you was to read something about it before long, if you look sharp.

You'll read something about it in the newspapers before long.


I know my business, and that's all I've got to say to you on that subject.


Mr. Smallweed looks, with greedy eyes, at the little bundle Mr. Bucket produces from a mysterious part of his coat, and identifies it as the same.

Mr. Bucket produces a little bundle from a mysterious part of his coat.


"Now, don't open your mouth too wide, because you don't look handsome when you do it."


"No, you don't; you mean fifty," says Mr. Bucket humorously.


It appears, however, that Mr. Smallweed means five hundred.


"That is, I am deputed by Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, to consider (without admitting or promising anything) this bit of business," says Mr. Bucket--Sir Leicester mechanically bows his head--"and you ask me to consider a proposal of five hundred pounds.

"I am deputed by Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, to consider (without promising anything) this bit of business," says Mr. Bucket - Sir Leicester mechanically bows his head - "and you ask me to consider a proposal of five hundred pounds.


Two fifty would be bad enough, but better than that.


Mr. Smallweed is quite clear that he had better not.


"Then," says Mr. Bucket, "let's hear Mr. Chadband."


Many a time I've heard my old fellow-serjeant of that name; and a moderate man he was in all respects, as ever I come across!"


Thus invited, Mr. Chadband steps forth, and after a little sleek smiling and a little oil-grinding with the palms of his hands, delivers himself as follows, "My friends, we are now--Rachael, my wife, and I--in the mansions of the rich and great.

Thus invited, Mr. Chadband steps forth, and after a little sleek smiling and a little oil-grinding with the palms of his hands, delivers himself as follows.
"My friends, we are now - Rachael, my wife, and I - in the mansions of the rich and great.


Why are we now in the mansions of the rich and great, my friends?


Because we are bidden to feast with them, because we are bidden to rejoice with them, because we are bidden to play the lute with them, because we are bidden to dance with them?


Air we in possession of a sinful secret, and do we require corn, and wine, and oil, or what is much the same thing, money, for the keeping thereof?


"You're a man of business, you are," returns Mr. Bucket, very attentive, "and consequently you're going on to mention what the nature of your secret is.

"You're a man of business, you are," returns Mr. Bucket, very attentive, "and you're going on to mention what the nature of your secret is."


"Let us then, my brother, in a spirit of love," says Mr. Chadband with a cunning eye, "proceed unto it.


Mrs. Chadband, more than ready, so advances as to jostle her husband into the background and confronts Mr. Bucket with a hard, frowning smile.

Mrs. Chadband jostles her husband into the background and confronts Mr. Bucket with a hard, frowning smile.


"Since you want to know what we know," says she, "I'll tell you.


I helped to bring up Miss Hawdon, her ladyship's daughter.

"I helped to bring up Miss Hawdon, her ladyship's daughter," she says.


I was in the service of her ladyship's sister, who was very sensitive to the disgrace her ladyship brought upon her, and gave out, even to her ladyship, that the child was dead--she WAS very nearly so--when she was born.

"I was in the service of her ladyship's sister, who was very sensitive to the disgrace her ladyship brought upon her, and gave out, even to her ladyship, that the child was dead when she was born.


With these words, and a laugh, and laying a bitter stress on the word "ladyship," Mrs. Chadband folds her arms and looks implacably at Mr. Bucket.


"I suppose now," returns that officer, "YOU will be expecting a twenty-pound note or a present of about that figure?"

"I suppose now," returns that officer, "you will be expecting twenty pounds or so?"


Mrs. Chadband merely laughs and contemptuously tells him he can "offer" twenty pence.


"My friend the law-stationer's good lady, over there," says Mr. Bucket, luring Mrs. Snagsby forward with the finger.

"My friend the law-stationer's good lady, over there," says Mr. Bucket, luring Mrs. Snagsby forward with his finger.


Mrs. Snagsby is at first prevented, by tears and lamentations, from stating the nature of her game, but by degrees it confusedly comes to light that she is a woman overwhelmed with injuries and wrongs, whom Mr. Snagsby has habitually deceived, abandoned, and sought to keep in darkness, and whose chief comfort, under her afflictions, has been the sympathy of the late Mr. Tulkinghorn, who showed so much commiseration for her on one occasion of his calling in Cook's Court in the absence of her perjured husband that she has of late habitually carried to him all her woes.

Mrs. Snagsby is at first prevented, by tears and lamentations, from stating the nature of her game, but by degrees it confusedly comes to light that she is a woman overwhelmed with injuries and wrongs, whom Mr. Snagsby has deceived, and whose chief comfort has been the sympathy of the late Mr. Tulkinghorn, to whom she has carried all her woes.


Everybody it appears, the present company excepted, has plotted against Mrs. Snagsby's peace.


There is Mr. Guppy, clerk to Kenge and Carboy, who was at first as open as the sun at noon, but who suddenly shut up as close as midnight, under the influence--no doubt--of Mr. Snagsby's suborning and tampering. There is Mr. Weevle, friend of Mr. Guppy, who lived mysteriously up a court, owing to the like coherent causes. There was Krook, deceased; there was Nimrod, deceased; and there was Jo, deceased; and they were "all in it."

Mr. Guppy, Mr. Weevle, Krook, deceased, and Jo, deceased; and they were "all in it."


In what, Mrs. Snagsby does not with particularity express, but she knows that Jo was Mr. Snagsby's son, "as well as if a trumpet had spoken it," and she followed Mr. Snagsby when he went on his last visit to the boy, and if he was not his son why did he go?

In what, Mrs. Snagsby does not say, but she knows that Jo was Mr. Snagsby's son, "as well as if a trumpet had spoken it," and she followed Mr. Snagsby when he went on his last visit to the boy, and if he was not his son why did he go?


The one occupation of her life has been, for some time back, to follow Mr. Snagsby to and fro, and up and down, and to piece suspicious circumstances together--and every circumstance that has happened has been most suspicious; and in this way she has pursued her object of detecting and confounding her false husband, night and day.

The one occupation of her life has been, for some time back, to follow Mr. Snagsby everywhere; and every circumstance has been most suspicious. She has pursued her object of confounding her false husband, night and day.


Thus did it come to pass that she brought the Chadbands and Mr. Tulkinghorn together, and conferred with Mr. Tulkinghorn on the change in Mr. Guppy, and helped to turn up the circumstances in which the present company are interested, casually, by the wayside, being still and ever on the great high road that is to terminate in Mr. Snagsby's full exposure and a matrimonial separation.

Thus she brought the Chadbands and Mr. Tulkinghorn together, in order to lead to Mr. Snagsby's full exposure and a matrimonial separation.


All this, Mrs. Snagsby, as an injured woman, and the friend of Mrs. Chadband, and the follower of Mr. Chadband, and the mourner of the late Mr. Tulkinghorn, is here to certify under the seal of confidence, with every possible confusion and involvement possible and impossible, having no pecuniary motive whatever, no scheme or project but the one mentioned, and bringing here, and taking everywhere, her own dense atmosphere of dust, arising from the ceaseless working of her mill of jealousy.

Mrs. Snagsby has no pecuniary motive whatever, no scheme or project but the one mentioned, in this ceaseless working of her mill of jealousy.


While this exordium is in hand--and it takes some time--Mr. Bucket, who has seen through the transparency of Mrs. Snagsby's vinegar at a glance, confers with his familiar demon and bestows his shrewd attention on the Chadbands and Mr. Smallweed.

While she is speaking - and it takes some time - Mr. Bucket bestows his shrewd attention on the Chadbands and Mr. Smallweed.


Sir Leicester Dedlock remains immovable, with the same icy surface upon him, except that he once or twice looks towards Mr. Bucket, as relying on that officer alone of all mankind.

Sir Leicester Dedlock remains icily immovable, except that he once or twice looks towards Mr. Bucket, as if relying on that officer alone of all mankind.


"Now I understand you, you know, and being deputed by Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, to look into this little matter," again Sir Leicester mechanically bows in confirmation of the statement, "can give it my fair and full attention.

"Now, I, being deputed by Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, to look into this little matter," again Sir Leicester mechanically bows, "can give it my full attention.


Now I won't allude to conspiring to extort money or anything of that sort, because we are men and women of the world here, and our object is to make things pleasant.


But I tell you what I DO wonder at; I am surprised that you should think of making a noise below in the hall.

But I tell you what I do wonder at; that you should make such a noise below in the hall.


"We wanted to get in," pleads Mr. Smallweed.


"Why, of course you wanted to get in," Mr. Bucket asserts with cheerfulness; "but for a old gentleman at your time of life--what I call truly venerable, mind you!--with his wits sharpened, as I have no doubt they are, by the loss of the use of his limbs, which occasions all his animation to mount up into his head, not to consider that if he don't keep such a business as the present as close as possible it can't be worth a mag to him, is so curious!

"Why, of course you wanted to get in," Mr. Bucket asserts with cheerfulness; "but an old gentleman with his wits sharpened, as I have no doubt yours are, ought to consider that he needs to keep such a business secret!


You see your temper got the better of you; that's where you lost ground," says Mr. Bucket in an argumentative and friendly way.

You see your temper got the better of you; that's where you lost ground," says Mr. Bucket in a friendly way.


"I only said I wouldn't go without one of the servants came up to Sir Leicester Dedlock," returns Mr. Smallweed.

"I only said I wouldn't go unless one of the servants came up to Sir Leicester Dedlock," returns Mr. Smallweed.


That's where your temper got the better of you.


Now, you keep it under another time and you'll make money by it. Shall I ring for them to carry you down?"

Now, shall I ring for them to carry you down?"


Always curious, your delightful sex is!"


"I shall have the pleasure of giving you a call to-morrow or next day--not forgetting Mr. Smallweed and his proposal of two fifty."

"I shall have the pleasure of giving you a call tomorrow or next day - not forgetting Mr. Smallweed and his proposal of two fifty."


Mr. Bucket has his hand on the bell-rope.


"SHALL I wish you good day for the present on the part of myself and the gentleman of the house?"

"Shall I wish you good day for the present?"


Nobody having the hardihood to object to his doing so, he does it, and the party retire as they came up.

Nobody objecting, he does it, and the party retire.


Mr. Bucket follows them to the door, and returning, says with an air of serious business, "Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, it's for you to consider whether or not to buy this up.

Mr. Bucket follows them to the door, and returning, says, "Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, it's for you to consider whether or not to buy this up.


I should recommend, on the whole, it's being bought up myself; and I think it may be bought pretty cheap.


You see, that little pickled cowcumber of a Mrs. Snagsby has been used by all sides of the speculation and has done a deal more harm in bringing odds and ends together than if she had meant it.

You see, that little pickled cowcumber of a Mrs. Snagsby has been used by all sides and has done a deal more harm in bringing odds and ends together than if she had meant it.


Mr. Tulkinghorn, deceased, he held all these horses in his hand and could have drove 'em his own way, I haven't a doubt; but he was fetched off the box head-foremost, and now they have got their legs over the traces, and are all dragging and pulling their own ways.

Mr. Tulkinghorn, he held all these horses in his hand and could have drove 'em his own way, I haven't a doubt; but now they are all dragging and pulling their own ways.


The cat's away, and the mice they play; the frost breaks up, and the water runs.


Now, with regard to the party to be apprehended."


Sir Leicester seems to wake, though his eyes have been wide open, and he looks intently at Mr. Bucket as Mr. Bucket refers to his watch.

Sir Leicester seems to wake, and he looks intently at Mr. Bucket as Mr. Bucket refers to his watch.


"The party to be apprehended is now in this house," proceeds Mr. Bucket, putting up his watch with a steady hand and with rising spirits, "and I'm about to take her into custody in your presence.

"The party to be apprehended is now in this house," proceeds Mr. Bucket, "and I'm about to take her into custody in your presence.


Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, don't you say a word nor yet stir.

Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, don't you say a word.


There'll be no noise and no disturbance at all.


I'll come back in the course of the evening, if agreeable to you, and endeavour to meet your wishes respecting this unfortunate family matter and the nobbiest way of keeping it quiet.

I'll come back in the course of the evening, if agreeable to you, and endeavour to meet your wishes respecting this unfortunate family matter and the best way of keeping it quiet.


Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, don't you be nervous on account of the apprehension at present coming off.

Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, don't you be nervous.


You shall see the whole case clear, from first to last."


Mr. Bucket rings, goes to the door, briefly whispers Mercury, shuts the door, and stands behind it with his arms folded.

Mr. Bucket rings for the footman, briefly whispers to him, and stands behind the door with his arms folded.


After a suspense of a minute or two the door slowly opens and a Frenchwoman enters.

After a suspense of a minute or two a Frenchwoman enters.


The moment she is in the room Mr. Bucket claps the door to and puts his back against it.


The suddenness of the noise occasions her to turn, and then for the first time she sees Sir Leicester Dedlock in his chair.

She turns, and sees Sir Leicester Dedlock in his chair.


"I ask you pardon," she mutters hurriedly.


Her step towards the door brings her front to front with Mr. Bucket.


Suddenly a spasm shoots across her face and she turns deadly pale.


"This is my lodger, Sir Leicester Dedlock," says Mr. Bucket, nodding at her.


"This foreign young woman has been my lodger for some weeks back."


"What do Sir Leicester care for that, you think, my angel?"


returns mademoiselle in a jocular strain.


"Why, my angel," returns Mr. Bucket, "we shall see."


Mademoiselle Hortense eyes him with a scowl upon her tight face, which gradually changes into a smile of scorn, "You are very mysterieuse.

Mademoiselle Hortense eyes him with a scowl, which gradually changes into a smile of scorn, "You are very mysterieuse.


"Tolerable sober, my angel," returns Mr. Bucket.


"I come from arriving at this so detestable house with your wife.

"I arrive at this so detestable house with your wife.


Your wife have left me since some minutes.


They tell me downstairs that your wife is here.


What is the intention of this fool's play, say then?"


mademoiselle demands, with her arms composedly crossed, but with something in her dark cheek beating like a clock.


Mr. Bucket merely shakes the finger at her.


cries mademoiselle with a toss of her head and a laugh.


"Leave me to pass downstairs, great pig."


"Now, mademoiselle," says Mr. Bucket in a cool determined way, "you go and sit down upon that sofy."

"Now, mademoiselle," says Mr. Bucket in a cool determined way, "you go and sit down upon that sofa."


"I will not sit down upon nothing," she replies with a shower of nods.


"Now, mademoiselle," repeats Mr. Bucket, making no demonstration except with the finger, "you sit down upon that sofy."


"Because I take you into custody on a charge of murder, and you don't need to be told it.


Now, I want to be polite to one of your sex and a foreigner if I can.


If I can't, I must be rough, and there's rougher ones outside.


So I recommend you, as a friend, afore another half a blessed moment has passed over your head, to go and sit down upon that sofy."

So I recommend you, as a friend, to go and sit down upon that sofa."


Mademoiselle complies, saying in a concentrated voice while that something in her cheek beats fast and hard, "You are a devil."

Mademoiselle complies, saying, while that something in her cheek beats fast and hard, "You are a devil."


"Now, you see," Mr. Bucket proceeds approvingly, "you're comfortable and conducting yourself as I should expect a foreign young woman of your sense to do. So I'll give you a piece of advice, and it's this, don't you talk too much.

"Now, I'll give you a piece of advice," Mr. Bucket proceeds, "and it's this: don't you talk too much.


You're not expected to say anything here, and you can't keep too quiet a tongue in your head.

You're not expected to say anything here.


In short, the less you PARLAY, the better, you know."

The less you parlay the better, you know."


Mr. Bucket is very complacent over this French explanation.


Mademoiselle, with that tigerish expansion of the mouth and her black eyes darting fire upon him, sits upright on the sofa in a rigid state, with her hands clenched--and her feet too, one might suppose--muttering, "Oh, you Bucket, you are a devil!"

Mademoiselle, with a tigerish expansion of the mouth and her black eyes darting fire upon him, sits upright and rigid on the sofa, with her hands clenched.


"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," says Mr. Bucket, and from this time forth the finger never rests, "this young woman, my lodger, was her ladyship's maid at the time I have mentioned to you; and this young woman, besides being extraordinary vehement and passionate against her ladyship after being discharged--"

"Now, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," says Mr. Bucket, and from this time forth the finger never rests, "this young woman, my lodger, was her ladyship's maid; and this young woman, besides being extraordinary vehement against her ladyship after being discharged-"


returns Mr. Bucket in an impressive, almost in an imploring, tone.

returns Mr. Bucket in an impressive, almost imploring, tone.


"I'm surprised at the indiscreetness you commit.


"You'll say something that'll be used against you, you know."


Never you mind what I say till it's given in evidence.


"Discharge, too," cries mademoiselle furiously, "by her ladyship!

"Discharge by her ladyship!" cries mademoiselle furiously.


Why, I r-r-r-ruin my character by remaining with a ladyship so infame!"


"I thought the French were a polite nation, I did, really.


Yet to hear a female going on like that before Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet!"

To go on like that before Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet!"


"He is a poor abused!" cries mademoiselle. "I spit upon his house, upon his name, upon his imbecility," all of which she makes the carpet represent.

"I spit upon his house, upon his name," cries mademoiselle.


"Well, Sir Leicester Dedlock," proceeds Mr. Bucket, "this intemperate foreigner also angrily took it into her head that she had established a claim upon Mr. Tulkinghorn, deceased, by attending on the occasion I told you of at his chambers, though she was liberally paid for her time and trouble."

"Well, Sir Leicester Dedlock," proceeds Mr. Bucket, "this intemperate foreigner also angrily took it into her head that she had established a claim upon Mr. Tulkinghorn, deceased, by attending at his chambers, though she was liberally paid for her time."


"If you WILL PARLAY, you know," says Mr. Bucket parenthetically, "you must take the consequences.

"If you will parlay, you know," says Mr. Bucket, "you must take the consequences.


Now, whether she became my lodger, Sir Leicester Dedlock, with any deliberate intention then of doing this deed and blinding me, I give no opinion on; but she lived in my house in that capacity at the time that she was hovering about the chambers of the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn with a view to a wrangle, and likewise persecuting and half frightening the life out of an unfortunate stationer."

Now, whether she became my lodger, Sir Leicester Dedlock, with any deliberate intention then of doing this deed and blinding me, I give no opinion on; but she lodged in my house at the time that she was hovering about the chambers of Mr. Tulkinghorn, and likewise persecuting an unfortunate stationer."


"The murder was committed, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, and you know under what circumstances.


Now, I beg of you to follow me close with your attention for a minute or two. I was sent for, and the case was entrusted to me.


I examined the place, and the body, and the papers, and everything.


From information I received (from a clerk in the same house) I took George into custody as having been seen hanging about there on the night, and at very nigh the time of the murder, also as having been overheard in high words with the deceased on former occasions--even threatening him, as the witness made out.

I took George into custody as having been seen hanging about there on the night of the murder, also as having been overheard in high words with the deceased on former occasions.


If you ask me, Sir Leicester Dedlock, whether from the first I believed George to be the murderer, I tell you candidly no, but he might be, notwithstanding, and there was enough against him to make it my duty to take him and get him kept under remand.

If you ask me, Sir Leicester Dedlock, whether I believed George to be the murderer, I tell you candidly no, but he might be, notwithstanding, and it was my duty to get him kept under remand.


As Mr. Bucket bends forward in some excitement--for him--and inaugurates what he is going to say with one ghostly beat of his forefinger in the air, Mademoiselle Hortense fixes her black eyes upon him with a dark frown and sets her dry lips closely and firmly together.

As Mr. Bucket bends forward in some excitement - for him - Mademoiselle Hortense fixes her black eyes upon him with a dark frown and sets her dry lips firmly together.


"I went home, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, at night and found this young woman having supper with my wife, Mrs. Bucket.

"I went home at night and found this young woman having supper with my wife, Mrs. Bucket.


She had made a mighty show of being fond of Mrs. Bucket from her first offering herself as our lodger, but that night she made more than ever--in fact, overdid it.

She had made a mighty show of being fond of Mrs. Bucket from her first offering herself as our lodger, but that night overdid it.


Likewise she overdid her respect, and all that, for the lamented memory of the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn.

Likewise she overdid her respect for the lamented memory of the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn.


By the living Lord it flashed upon me, as I sat opposite to her at the table and saw her with a knife in her hand, that she had done it!"

It flashed upon me, as I sat opposite to her at the table and saw her with a knife in her hand, that she had done it!"


Mademoiselle is hardly audible in straining through her teeth and lips the words, "You are a devil."

Mademoiselle is hardly audible in straining through her teeth the words, "You are a devil."


"Now where," pursues Mr. Bucket, "had she been on the night of the murder?


(She really was there, I have since found, both before the deed and after it.)


I knew I had an artful customer to deal with and that proof would be very difficult; and I laid a trap for her--such a trap as I never laid yet, and such a venture as I never made yet.

I knew I had an artful customer to deal with and that proof would be very difficult; and I laid a trap for her.


I worked it out in my mind while I was talking to her at supper.


When I went upstairs to bed, our house being small and this young woman's ears sharp, I stuffed the sheet into Mrs. Bucket's mouth that she shouldn't say a word of surprise and told her all about it.

When I went upstairs to bed, I told Mrs. Bucket all about it.


My dear, don't you give your mind to that again, or I shall link your feet together at the ankles."


Mr. Bucket, breaking off, has made a noiseless descent upon mademoiselle and laid his heavy hand upon her shoulder.


"Don't you think any more," returns Mr. Bucket with admonitory finger, "of throwing yourself out of window.


You needn't get up; I'll sit down by you.


I'm a married man, you know; you're acquainted with my wife.


Vainly endeavouring to moisten those dry lips, with a painful sound she struggles with herself and complies.


Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, this case could never have been the case it is but for Mrs. Bucket, who is a woman in fifty thousand--in a hundred and fifty thousand!

Mrs. Bucket is a woman in fifty thousand!


To throw this young woman off her guard, I have never set foot in our house since, though I've communicated with Mrs. Bucket in the baker's loaves and in the milk as often as required.


My whispered words to Mrs. Bucket when she had the sheet in her mouth were, 'My dear, can you throw her off continually with natural accounts of my suspicions against George, and this, and that, and t'other? Can you do without rest and keep watch upon her night and day?

I asked Mrs. Bucket to throw this young woman off her guard, with accounts of my suspicions against George; and to keep watch upon her night and day.


Can you undertake to say, 'She shall do nothing without my knowledge, she shall be my prisoner without suspecting it, she shall no more escape from me than from death, and her life shall be my life, and her soul my soul, till I have got her, if she did this murder?'


Mrs. Bucket says to me, as well as she could speak on account of the sheet, 'Bucket, I can!'


And Mrs. Bucket has acted up to it glorious!"


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, how did my calculations come out under these circumstances? When I calculated that this impetuous young woman would overdo it in new directions, was I wrong or right? I was right. What does she try to do?

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, what does this lady try to do?


Don't let it give you a turn? To throw the murder on her ladyship."

Don't let it give you a turn - to throw the murder on her ladyship."


Sir Leicester rises from his chair and staggers down again.


"And she got encouragement in it from hearing that I was always here, which was done a-purpose.

"And she got encouragement in it from hearing that I was always here.


Now, open that pocket-book of mine, Sir Leicester Dedlock, if I may take the liberty of throwing it towards you, and look at the letters sent to me, each with the two words 'Lady Dedlock' in it.

Now, in this pocket-book of mine, Sir Leicester Dedlock, are letters sent to me, each with the two words 'Lady Dedlock.'


Open the one directed to yourself, which I stopped this very morning, and read the three words 'Lady Dedlock, Murderess' in it.

This one came this very morning, with the three words 'Lady Dedlock, Murderess' in it.


These letters have been falling about like a shower of lady-birds.


What do you say now to Mrs. Bucket, from her spy-place having seen them all 'written by this young woman?

Mrs. Bucket, from her spy-place, saw them written.


What do you say to Mrs. Bucket having, within this half-hour, secured the corresponding ink and paper, fellow half-sheets and what not?


What do you say to Mrs. Bucket having watched the posting of 'em every one by this young woman, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet?"

She watched the posting of 'em every one by this young woman, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet!"


Mr. Bucket asks, triumphant in his admiration of his lady's genius.

Mr. Bucket is triumphant in his admiration of his lady's genius.


Two things are especially observable as Mr. Bucket proceeds to a conclusion.


First, that he seems imperceptibly to establish a dreadful right of property in mademoiselle.


Secondly, that the very atmosphere she breathes seems to narrow and contract about her as if a close net or a pall were being drawn nearer and yet nearer around her breathless figure.

The very atmosphere mademoiselle breathes seems to narrow and contract about her as if a close net were being pulled around her breathless figure.


"There is no doubt that her ladyship was on the spot at the eventful period," says Mr. Bucket, "and my foreign friend here saw her, I believe, from the upper part of the staircase.

"There is no doubt that her ladyship was on the spot at the eventful time," says Mr. Bucket, "and my foreign friend here saw her.


Her ladyship and George and my foreign friend were all pretty close on one another's heels."


But that don't signify any more, so I'll not go into it.


I found the wadding of the pistol with which the deceased Mr. Tulkinghorn was shot.


It was a bit of the printed description of your house at Chesney Wold.


Not much in that, you'll say, Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet.


But when my foreign friend here is so thoroughly off her guard as to think it a safe time to tear up the rest of that leaf, and when Mrs. Bucket puts the pieces together and finds the wadding wanting, it begins to look like Queer Street."


"These are very long lies," mademoiselle interposes.


Is it that you have almost all finished, or are you speaking always?"


"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," proceeds Mr. Bucket, who delights in a full title and does violence to himself when he dispenses with any fragment of it, "the last point in the case which I am now going to mention shows the necessity of patience in our business, and never doing a thing in a hurry.

"Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet," proceeds Mr. Bucket, "the last point in the case shows the necessity of never doing a thing in a hurry.


I watched this young woman yesterday without her knowledge when she was looking at the funeral, in company with my wife, who planned to take her there; and I had so much to convict her, and I saw such an expression in her face, and my mind so rose against her malice towards her ladyship, and the time was altogether such a time for bringing down what you may call retribution upon her, that if I had been a younger hand with less experience, I should have taken her, certain.

I watched this young woman yesterday without her knowledge when she was looking at the funeral, in company with my wife; and I saw such an expression in her face, that if I had been less experienced, I should have arrested her then, certain.


Equally, last night, when her ladyship, as is so universally admired I am sure, come home looking--why, Lord, a man might almost say like Venus rising from the ocean--it was so unpleasant and inconsistent to think of her being charged with a murder of which she was innocent that I felt quite to want to put an end to the job.


Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, I should have lost the weapon.


My prisoner here proposed to Mrs. Bucket, after the departure of the funeral, that they should go per bus a little ways into the country and take tea at a very decent house of entertainment.

My prisoner here proposed to Mrs. Bucket, after the funeral, that they should go a little ways into the country and take tea at a house of entertainment.


Now, near that house of entertainment there's a piece of water.


At tea, my prisoner got up to fetch her pocket handkercher from the bedroom where the bonnets was; she was rather a long time gone and came back a little out of wind.

At tea, my prisoner got up to fetch her pocket handkercher from the bedroom; she was rather a long time gone and came back a little breathless.


As soon as they came home this was reported to me by Mrs. Bucket, along with her observations and suspicions.

As soon as they came home this was reported to me by Mrs. Bucket, along with her suspicions.


I had the piece of water dragged by moonlight, in presence of a couple of our men, and the pocket pistol was brought up before it had been there half-a-dozen hours.

I had the water dragged by moonlight, and the pocket pistol was brought up.


Now, my dear, put your arm a little further through mine, and hold it steady, and I shan't hurt you!"

Now, my dear, hold that hand steady, and I shan't hurt you!"


In a trice Mr. Bucket snaps a handcuff on her wrist.


"Where," she asks him, darkening her large eyes until their drooping lids almost conceal them--and yet they stare, "where is your false, your treacherous, and cursed wife?"

"Where," she asks, "is your false, your treacherous, cursed wife?"


"She's gone forrard to the Police Office," returns Mr. Bucket.

"She's gone to the Police Office," returns Mr. Bucket.


"I would like to kiss her!" exclaims Mademoiselle Hortense, panting tigress-like.
"You'd bite her, I suspect," says Mr. Bucket.
"I would!" making her eyes very large. "I would love to tear her limb from limb."

"I would like to tear her limb from limb!" exclaims Mademoiselle Hortense, panting tigress-like.


"Bless you, darling," says Mr. Bucket with the greatest composure, "I'm fully prepared to hear that.

"Bless you, darling," says Mr. Bucket with the greatest composure.


Your sex have such a surprising animosity against one another when you do differ.


You don't mind me half so much, do you?"


"But I am in my regular employment, you must consider. Let me put your shawl tidy.


I've been lady's maid to a good many before now.


Mademoiselle Hortense, casting an indignant eye at the glass, shakes herself perfectly neat in one shake and looks, to do her justice, uncommonly genteel.


"Listen then, my angel," says she after several sarcastic nods.


"Don't be so malicious," says Mr. Bucket.


cries mademoiselle, referring to Sir Leicester with ineffable disdain.


"Come, come, why this is worse PARLAYING than the other," says Mr. Bucket.


It is but the death, it is all the same.


With these last words she snaps her teeth together as if her mouth closed with a spring.


It is impossible to describe how Mr. Bucket gets her out, but he accomplishes that feat in a manner so peculiar to himself, enfolding and pervading her like a cloud, and hovering away with her as if he were a homely Jupiter and she the object of his affections.

Mr. Bucket gets her out in a manner peculiar to himself, enfolding her like a cloud, and hovering away with her.


Sir Leicester, left alone, remains in the same attitude, as though he were still listening and his attention were still occupied.

Sir Leicester, left alone, remains seated as though he were still listening.


At length he gazes round the empty room, and finding it deserted, rises unsteadily to his feet, pushes back his chair, and walks a few steps, supporting himself by the table.

At length he gazes round the empty room, rises unsteadily to his feet and walks a few steps, supporting himself by the table.


Then he stops, and with more of those inarticulate sounds, lifts up his eyes and seems to stare at something.


The green, green woods of Chesney Wold, the noble house, the pictures of his forefathers, strangers defacing them, officers of police coarsely handling his most precious heirlooms, thousands of fingers pointing at him, thousands of faces sneering at him.

The green woods of Chesney Wold, the noble house, the pictures of his forefathers; thousands of fingers pointing at him, thousands of faces sneering.


But if such shadows flit before him to his bewilderment, there is one other shadow which he can name with something like distinctness even yet and to which alone he addresses his tearing of his white hair and his extended arms.

But there is one shadow to which alone he addresses his tearing of his white hair and his extended arms.


It is she in association with whom, saving that she has been for years a main fibre of the root of his dignity and pride, he has never had a selfish thought.


It is she whom he has loved, admired, honoured, and set up for the world to respect.


It is she who, at the core of all the constrained formalities and conventionalities of his life, has been a stock of living tenderness and love, susceptible as nothing else is of being struck with the agony he feels.

It is she who, at the core of all the constrained formalities of his life, has been a stock of living tenderness and love.


He sees her, almost to the exclusion of himself, and cannot bear to look upon her cast down from the high place she has graced so well.

He cannot bear to look upon her cast down from the high place she has graced so well.


And even to the point of his sinking on the ground, oblivious of his suffering, he can yet pronounce her name with something like distinctness in the midst of those intrusive sounds, and in a tone of mourning and compassion rather than reproach.

And even as he sinks down to the ground, he can yet pronounce her name with something like distinctness in the midst of those intrusive sounds, and in a tone of mourning and compassion rather than reproach.


The day had brightened very much, and still brightened as we went westward. We went our way through the sunshine and the fresh air, wondering more and more at the extent of the streets, the brilliancy of the shops, the great traffic, and the crowds of people whom the pleasanter weather seemed to have brought out like many-coloured flowers.

The day brightened as we went our way through the sunshine and the fresh air, wondering at the extent of the streets, the traffic, and the crowds of people.


By and by we began to leave the wonderful city and to proceed through suburbs which, of themselves, would have made a pretty large town in my eyes; and at last we got into a real country road again, with windmills, rick-yards, milestones, farmers' waggons, scents of old hay, swinging signs, and horse troughs: trees, fields, and hedge-rows.

By and by we left the city to proceed through suburbs which, of themselves, would have made a pretty large town in my eyes; and at last we got onto a real country road again, with windmills, milestones, farmers' waggons, scents of old hay, and horse troughs: trees, fields, and hedge-rows.


It was delightful to see the green landscape before us and the immense metropolis behind; and when a waggon with a train of beautiful horses, furnished with red trappings and clear-sounding bells, came by us with its music, I believe we could all three have sung to the bells, so cheerful were the influences around.

It was delightful to see the green landscape; and when a waggon with a train of beautiful horses, furnished with red trappings and clear-sounding bells, came by us, I believe we could all three have sung to its music.


"The whole road has been reminding me of my namesake Whittington," said Richard, "and that waggon is the finishing touch.

"The road has been reminding me of my namesake Dick Whittington," said Richard, "and that waggon is the finishing touch.


We had stopped, and the waggon had stopped too.


Its music changed as the horses came to a stand, and subsided to a gentle tinkling, except when a horse tossed his head or shook himself and sprinkled off a little shower of bell-ringing.

The horses came to a stand, with a little shower of bell-ringing.


"Our postilion is looking after the waggoner," said Richard, "and the waggoner is coming back after us.


"Why, here's an extraordinary thing!" added Richard, looking closely at the man.

said Richard. "Why, here's an extraordinary thing!


"He has got your name, Ada, in his hat!"


Tucked within the band were three small notes--one addressed to Ada, one to Richard, one to me.

Tucked within the band were three small notes - one addressed to each of us.


These the waggoner delivered to each of us respectively, reading the name aloud first. In answer to Richard's inquiry from whom they came, he briefly answered, "Master, sir, if you please"; and putting on his hat again (which was like a soft bowl), cracked his whip, re-awakened his music, and went melodiously away.

These the waggoner delivered; and on Richard's asking from whom they came, he briefly answered, "Master, sir, if you please." Putting on his hat again, he cracked his whip, and went melodiously away.


Each was a counterpart of the other and contained these words in a solid, plain hand.

Each contained these words in a solid, plain hand.


"I look forward, my dear, to our meeting easily and without constraint on either side.


I therefore have to propose that we meet as old friends and take the past for granted.


It will be a relief to you possibly, and to me certainly, and so my love to you.

It will be a relief to me, and possibly to you. And so my love to you.


I had perhaps less reason to be surprised than either of my companions, having never yet enjoyed an opportunity of thanking one who had been my benefactor and sole earthly dependence through so many years. I had not considered how I could thank him, my gratitude lying too deep in my heart for that; but I now began to consider how I could meet him without thanking him, and felt it would be very difficult indeed.

I had not considered how I could thank my benefactor, my gratitude lying too deep in my heart for that; but I now began to wonder how I could meet him without thanking him, and felt it would be very difficult indeed.