Bleak House Charles Dickens (classic books to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Charles Dickens
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âOld girl,â murmurs Mr. Bagnet, âgive him another bit of my mind.â
âGeorge,â says the old girl, âyou are not so much to be blamed, on full consideration, except for ever taking this business without the means.â
âAnd that was like me!â observes the penitent trooper, shaking his head. âLike me, I know.â
âSilence! The old girl,â says Mr. Bagnet, âis correctâ âin her way of giving my opinionsâ âhear me out!â
âThat was when you never ought to have asked for the security, George, and when you never ought to have got it, all things considered. But whatâs done canât be undone. You are always an honourable and straightforward fellow, as far as lays in your power, though a little flighty. On the other hand, you canât admit but what itâs natural in us to be anxious with such a thing hanging over our heads. So forget and forgive all round, George. Come! Forget and forgive all round!â
Mrs. Bagnet, giving him one of her honest hands and giving her husband the other, Mr. George gives each of them one of his and holds them while he speaks.
âI do assure you both, thereâs nothing I wouldnât do to discharge this obligation. But whatever I have been able to scrape together has gone every two months in keeping it up. We have lived plainly enough here, Phil and I. But the gallery donât quite do what was expected of it, and itâs notâ âin short, itâs not the mint. It was wrong in me to take it? Well, so it was. But I was in a manner drawn into that step, and I thought it might steady me, and set me up, and youâll try to overlook my having such expectations, and upon my soul, I am very much obliged to you, and very much ashamed of myself.â With these concluding words, Mr. George gives a shake to each of the hands he holds, and relinquishing them, backs a pace or two in a broad-chested, upright attitude, as if he had made a final confession and were immediately going to be shot with all military honours.
âGeorge, hear me out!â says Mr. Bagnet, glancing at his wife. âOld girl, go on!â
Mr. Bagnet, being in this singular manner heard out, has merely to observe that the letter must be attended to without any delay, that it is advisable that George and he should immediately wait on Mr. Smallweed in person, and that the primary object is to save and hold harmless Mr. Bagnet, who had none of the money. Mr. George, entirely assenting, puts on his hat and prepares to march with Mr. Bagnet to the enemyâs camp.
âDonât you mind a womanâs hasty word, George,â says Mrs. Bagnet, patting him on the shoulder. âI trust my old Lignum to you, and I am sure youâll bring him through it.â
The trooper returns that this is kindly said and that he will bring Lignum through it somehow. Upon which Mrs. Bagnet, with her cloak, basket, and umbrella, goes home, bright-eyed again, to the rest of her family, and the comrades sally forth on the hopeful errand of mollifying Mr. Smallweed.
Whether there are two people in England less likely to come satisfactorily out of any negotiation with Mr. Smallweed than Mr. George and Mr. Matthew Bagnet may be very reasonably questioned. Also, notwithstanding their martial appearance, broad square shoulders, and heavy tread, whether there are within the same limits two more simple and unaccustomed children in all the Smallweedy affairs of life. As they proceed with great gravity through the streets towards the region of Mount Pleasant, Mr. Bagnet, observing his companion to be thoughtful, considers it a friendly part to refer to Mrs. Bagnetâs late sally.
âGeorge, you know the old girlâ âsheâs as sweet and as mild as milk. But touch her on the childrenâ âor myselfâ âand sheâs off like gunpowder.â
âIt does her credit, Mat!â
âGeorge,â says Mr. Bagnet, looking straight before him, âthe old girlâ âcanât do anythingâ âthat donât do her credit. More or less. I never say so. Discipline must be maintained.â
âSheâs worth her weight in gold,â says the trooper.
âIn gold?â says Mr. Bagnet. âIâll tell you what. The old girlâs weightâ âis twelve stone six. Would I take that weightâ âin any metalâ âfor the old girl? No. Why not? Because the old girlâs metal is far more preciousâ âthan the preciousest metal. And sheâs all metal!â
âYou are right, Mat!â
âWhen she took meâ âand accepted of the ringâ âshe âlisted under me and the childrenâ âheart and head, for life. Sheâs that earnest,â says Mr. Bagnet, âand true to her coloursâ âthat, touch us with a fingerâ âand she turns outâ âand stands to her arms. If the old girl fires wideâ âonce in a wayâ âat the call of dutyâ âlook over it, George. For sheâs loyal!â
âWhy, bless her, Mat,â returns the trooper, âI think the higher of her for it!â
âYou are right!â says Mr. Bagnet with the warmest enthusiasm, though without relaxing the rigidity of a single muscle. âThink as high of the old girlâ âas the rock of Gibraltarâ âand still youâll be thinking lowâ âof such merits. But I never own to it before her. Discipline must be maintained.â
These encomiums bring them to Mount Pleasant and to Grandfather Smallweedâs house. The door is opened by the perennial Judy, who, having surveyed them from top to toe with no particular favour, but indeed with a malignant sneer, leaves them standing there while she consults the oracle as to their admission. The oracle may be inferred to give consent from the circumstance of her returning with the words on her honey lips that they can come in if they want to it. Thus privileged, they come in and find Mr. Smallweed with his feet in the drawer of his chair as if it were a paper foot-bath and Mrs. Smallweed obscured with the cushion like a bird that is not to sing.
âMy dear friend,â says Grandfather Smallweed with those two lean affectionate arms of his stretched forth. âHow de do? How de do? Who is our friend, my dear friend?â
âWhy this,â returns George, not able to be very conciliatory at first, âis Matthew Bagnet, who has obliged me in that matter of ours, you know.â
âOh! Mr. Bagnet? Surely!â
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