“Is she married, my dear?”
I told him all about it and how her first entreaties
had referred to his forgiveness.
“She has no need of it,” said he.
“Heaven bless her and her husband!”
But just as my first impulse had been to pity her,
so was his. “Poor girl, poor girl!
Poor Rick! Poor Ada!”
Neither of us spoke after that, until he said with
a sigh, “Well, well, my dear! Bleak House
is thinning fast.”
“But its mistress remains, guardian.”
Though I was timid about saying it, I ventured because
of the sorrowful tone in which he had spoken.
“She will do all she can to make it happy,”
said I.
“She will succeed, my love!”
The letter had made no difference between us except
that the seat by his side had come to be mine; it
made none now. He turned his old bright fatherly
look upon me, laid his hand on my hand in his old
way, and said again, “She will succeed, my dear.
Nevertheless, Bleak House is thinning fast, O little
woman!”
I was sorry presently that this was all we said about
that. I was rather disappointed. I feared
I might not quite have been all I had meant to be
since the letter and the answer.
Obstinacy
But one other day had intervened when, early in the
morning as we were going to breakfast, Mr. Woodcourt
came in haste with the astounding news that a terrible
murder had been committed for which Mr. George had
been apprehended and was in custody. When he
told us that a large reward was offered by Sir Leicester
Dedlock for the murderer’s apprehension, I did
not in my first consternation understand why; but
a few more words explained to me that the murdered
person was Sir Leicester’s lawyer, and immediately
my mother’s dread of him rushed into my remembrance.
This unforeseen and violent removal of one whom she
had long watched and distrusted and who had long watched
and distrusted her, one for whom she could have had
few intervals of kindness, always dreading in him
a dangerous and secret enemy, appeared so awful that
my first thoughts were of her. How appalling
to hear of such a death and be able to feel no pity!
How dreadful to remember, perhaps, that she had sometimes
even wished the old man away who was so swiftly hurried
out of life!
Such crowding reflections, increasing the distress
and fear I always felt when the name was mentioned,
made me so agitated that I could scarcely hold my
place at the table. I was quite unable to follow
the conversation until I had had a little time to recover.
But when I came to myself and saw how shocked my guardian
was and found that they were earnestly speaking of
the suspected man and recalling every favourable impression
we had formed of him out of the good we had known
of him, my interest and my fears were so strongly
aroused in his behalf that I was quite set up again.
