Bleak House by Charles Dickens (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) đź“–
- Author: Charles Dickens
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Early in the afternoon the subdued sound of his heavy military trot
is heard on the turf in the avenue as he rides on with imaginary
clank and jingle of accoutrements under the old elm-trees.
Esther’s Narrative
Soon after I had that convertion with my guardian, he put a sealed
paper in my hand one morning and said, “This is for next month, my
dear.” I found in it two hundred pounds.
I now began very quietly to make such preparations as I thought
were necessary. Regulating my purchases by my guardian’s taste,
which I knew very well of course, I arranged my wardrobe to please
him and hoped I should be highly successful. I did it all so
quietly because I was not quite free from my old apprehension that
Ada would be rather sorry and because my guardian was so quiet
himself. I had no doubt that under all the circumstances we should
be married in the most private and simple manner. Perhaps I should
only have to say to Ada, “Would you like to come and see me married
to-morrow, my pet?” Perhaps our wedding might even be as
unpretending as her own, and I might not find it necessary to say
anything about it until it was over. I thought that if I were to
choose, I would like this best.
The only exception I made was Mrs. Woodcourt. I told her that I
was going to be married to my guardian and that we had been engaged
some time. She highly approved. She could never do enough for me
and was remarkably softened now in comparison with what she had
been when we first knew her. There was no trouble she would not
have taken to have been of use to me, but I need hardly say that I
only allowed her to take as little as gratified her kindness
without tasking it.
Of course this was not a time to neglect my guardian, and of course
it was not a time for neglecting my darling. So I had plenty of
occupation, which I was glad of; and as to Charley, she was
absolutely not to be seen for needlework. To surround herself with
great heaps of it—baskets full and tables full—and do a little,
and spend a great deal of time in staring with her round eyes at
what there was to do, and persuade herself that she was going to do
it, were Charley’s great dignities and delights.
Meanwhile, I must say, I could not agree with my guardian on the
subject of the will, and I had some sanguine hopes of Jarndyce and
Jarndyce. Which of us was right will soon appear, but I certainly
did encourage expectations. In Richard, the discovery gave
occasion for a burst of business and agitation that buoyed him up
for a little time, but he had lost the elasticity even of hope now
and seemed to me to retain only its feverish anxieties. From
something my guardian said one day when we were talking about this,
I understood that my marriage would not take place until after the
term-time we had been told to look forward to; and I thought the
more, for that, how rejoiced I should be if I could be married when
Richard and Ada were a little more prosperous.
The term was very near indeed when my guardian was called out of
town and went down into Yorkshire on Mr. Woodcourt’s business. He
had told me beforehand that his presence there would be necessary.
I had just come in one night from my dear girl’s and was sitting in
the midst of all my new clothes, looking at them all around me and
thinking, when a letter from my guardian was brought to me. It
asked me to join him in the country and mentioned by what stagecoach my place was taken and at what time in the morning I should
have to leave town. It added in a postscript that I would not be
many hours from Ada.
I expected few things less than a journey at that time, but I was
ready for it in half an hour and set off as appointed early next
morning. I travelled all day, wondering all day what I could be
wanted for at such a distance; now I thought it might be for this
purpose, and now I thought it might be for that purpose, but I was
never, never, never near the truth.
It was night when I came to my journey’s end and found my guardian
waiting for me. This was a great relief, for towards evening I had
begun to fear (the more so as his letter was a very short one) that
he might be ill. However, there he was, as well as it was possible
to be; and when I saw his genial face again at its brightest and
best, I said to myself, he has been doing some other great
kindness. Not that it required much penetration to say that,
because I knew that his being there at all was an act of kindness.
Supper was ready at the hotel, and when we were alone at table he
said, “Full of curiosity, no doubt, little woman, to know why I
have brought you here?”
“Well, guardian,” said I, “without thinking myself a Fatima or you
a Blue Beard, I am a little curious about it.”
“Then to ensure your night’s rest, my love,” he returned gaily, “I
won’t wait until to-morrow to tell you. I have very much wished to
express to Woodcourt, somehow, my sense of his humanity to poor
unfortunate Jo, his inestimable services to my young cousins, and
his value to us all. When it was decided that he should settle
here, it came into my head that I might ask his acceptance of some
unpretending and suitable little place to lay his own head in. I
therefore caused such a place to be looked out for, and such a
place was found on very easy terms, and I have been touching it up
for him and making it habitable. However, when I walked over it
the day before yesterday and it was reported ready, I found that I
was not housekeeper enough to know whether things were all as they
ought to be. So I sent off for the best little housekeeper that
could possibly be got to come and give me her advice and opinion.
And here she is,” said my guardian, “laughing and crying both
together!”
Because he was so dear, so good, so admirable. I tried to tell him
what I thought of him, but I could not articulate a word.
“Tut, tut!” said my guardian. “You make too much of it, little
woman. Why, how you sob, Dame Durden, how you sob!”
“It is with exquisite pleasure, guardian—with a heart full of
thanks.”
“Well, well,” said he. “I am delighted that you approve. I
thought you would. I meant it as a pleasant surprise for the
little mistress of Bleak House.”
I kissed him and dried my eyes. “I know now!” said I. “I have
seen this in your face a long while.”
“No; have you really, my dear?” said he. “What a Dame Durden it is
to read a face!”
He was so quaintly cheerful that I could not long be otherwise, and
was almost ashamed of having been otherwise at all. When I went to
bed, I cried. I am bound to confess that I cried; but I hope it
was with pleasure, though I am not quite sure it was with pleasure.
I repeated every word of the letter twice over.
A most beautiful summer morning succeeded, and after breakfast we
went out arm in arm to see the house of which I was to give my
mighty housekeeping opinion. We entered a flower-garden by a gate
in a side wall, of which he had the key, and the first thing I saw
was that the beds and flowers were all laid out according to the
manner of my beds and flowers at home.
“You see, my dear,” observed my guardian, standing still with a
delighted face to watch my looks, “knowing there could be no better
plan, I borrowed yours.”
We went on by a pretty little orchard, where the cherries were
nestling among the green leaves and the shadows of the apple-trees
were sporting on the grass, to the house itself—a cottage, quite a
rustic cottage of doll’s rooms; but such a lovely place, so
tranquil and so beautiful, with such a rich and smiling country
spread around it; with water sparkling away into the distance, here
all overhung with summer-growth, there turning a humming mill; at
its nearest point glancing through a meadow by the cheerful town,
where cricket-players were assembling in bright groups and a flag
was flying from a white tent that rippled in the sweet west wind.
And still, as we went through the pretty rooms, out at the little
rustic verandah doors, and underneath the tiny wooden colonnades
garlanded with woodbine, jasmine, and honey-suckle, I saw in the
papering on the walls, in the colours of the furniture, in the
arrangement of all the pretty objects, MY little tastes and
fancies, MY little methods and inventions which they used to laugh
at while they praised them, my odd ways everywhere.
I could not say enough in admiration of what was all so beautiful,
but one secret doubt arose in my mind when I saw this, I thought,
oh, would he be the happier for it! Would it not have been better
for his peace that I should not have been so brought before him?
Because although I was not what he thought me, still he loved me
very dearly, and it might remind him mournfully of what be believed
he had lost. I did not wish him to forget me—perhaps he might not
have done so, without these aids to his memory—but my way was
easier than his, and I could have reconciled myself even to that so
that he had been the happier for it.
“And now, little woman,” said my guardian, whom I had never seen so
proud and joyful as in showing me these things and watching my
appreciation of them, “now, last of all, for the name of this
house.”
“What is it called, dear guardian?”
“My child,” said he, “come and see,”
He took me to the porch, which he had hitherto avoided, and said,
pausing before we went out, “My dear child, don’t you guess the
name?”
“No!” said I.
We went out of the porch and he showed me written over it, Bleak
House.
He led me to a seat among the leaves close by, and sitting down
beside me and taking my hand in his, spoke to me thus, “My darling
girl, in what there has been between us, I have, I hope, been
really solicitous for your happiness. When I wrote you the letter
to which you brought the answer,” smiling as he referred to it, “I
had my own too much in view; but I had yours too. Whether, under
different circumstances, I might ever have renewed the old dream I
sometimes dreamed when you were very young, of making you my wife
one day, I need not ask myself. I did renew it, and I wrote my
letter, and you brought your answer. You are following what I say,
my child?”
I was cold, and I trembled violently, but not a word he uttered was
lost. As I sat looking fixedly at him and the sun’s rays
descended, softly shining through the leaves
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