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. Some of it now lay in a drawer near her,
which was not quite closed. I did not open the
drawer, but I still rather wondered what the work
could he, 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!
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.
Enlightened
When Mr. Woodcourt arrived in London, he went, that
very same day, to Mr. Vholes’s in Symond’s
Inn. For he never once, from the moment when
I entreated him to be a friend to Richard, neglected
or forgot his promise. He had told me that he
accepted the charge as a sacred trust, and he was
ever true to it in that spirit.
He found Mr. Vholes in his office and informed Mr.
Vholes of his agreement with Richard that he should
call there to learn his address.
“Just so, sir,” said Mr. Vholes.
“Mr. C.’s address is not a hundred miles
from here, sir, Mr. C.’s address is not a hundred
miles from here. Would you take a seat, sir?”
Mr. Woodcourt thanked Mr. Vholes, but he had no business
with him beyond what he had mentioned.
“Just so, sir. I believe, sir,”
said Mr. Vholes, still quietly insisting on the seat
by not giving the address, “that you have influence
with Mr. C. Indeed I am aware that you have.”
“I was not aware of it myself,” returned
Mr. Woodcourt; “but I suppose you know best.”
“Sir,” rejoined Mr. Vholes, self-contained
as usual, voice and all, “it is a part of my
professional duty to know best. It is a part
of my professional duty to study and to understand
a gentleman who confides his interests to me.
In my professional duty I shall not be wanting, sir,
if I know it. I may, with the best intentions,
be wanting in it without knowing it; but not if I
know it, sir.”
Mr. Woodcourt again mentioned the address.
“Give me leave, sir,” said Mr. Vholes.
“Bear with me for a moment. Sir, Mr. C.
is playing for a considerable stake, and cannot play
without—need I say what?”
“Money, I presume?”
“Sir,” said Mr. Vholes, “to be honest
with you (honesty being my golden rule, whether I
gain by it or lose, and I find that I generally lose),
money is the word. Now, sir, upon the chances
of Mr. C.’s game I express to you no opinion,
no opinion. It might be highly impolitic
in Mr. C., after playing so long and so high, to leave
off; it might be the reverse; I say nothing.
No, sir,” said Mr. Vholes, bringing his hand
flat down upon his desk in a positive manner, “nothing.”
