'You want money?'
'No, indeed, I have plenty in hand.'
'There never was such a Dame Durden,' said my guardian, 'for making money last.'
He had laid down his pen and leaned back in his chair looking at me. I have often spoken of his bright face, but I thought I had never seen it look so bright and good. There was a high happiness upon it which made me think, 'He has been doing some great kindness this morning.'
'There never was,' said my guardian, musing as he smiled upon me,
'such a Dame Durden for making money last.'
He had never yet altered his old manner. I loved it and him so much that when I now went up to him and took my usual chair, which was always put at his side-for sometimes I read to him, and sometimes I talked to him, and sometimes I silently worked by him-I hardly liked to disturb it by laying my hand on his breast. But I found I did not disturb it at all.
'Dear guardian,' said I, 'I want to speak to you. Have I been remiss in anything?'
'Remiss in anything, my dear!'
'Have I not been what I have meant to be since-I brought the answer to your letter, guardian?'
'You have been everything I could desire, my love.'
'I am very glad indeed to hear that,' I returned. 'You know, you said to me, was this the mistress of Bleak House. And I said, yes.'
'Yes,' said my guardian, nodding his head. He had put his arm about me as if there were something to protect me from and looked in my face, smiling.
'Since then,' said I, 'we have never spoken on the subject except once.'
'And then I said Bleak House was thinning fast; and so it was, my dear.'
'And I said,' I timidly reminded him, 'but its mistress remained.'
He still held me in the same protecting manner and with the same bright goodness in his face.
'Dear guardian,' said I, 'I know how you have felt all that has happened, and how considerate you have been. As so much time has passed, and as you spoke only this morning of my being so well again, perhaps you expect me to renew the subject. Perhaps I ought to do so. I will be the mistress of Bleak House when you please.'
'See,' he returned gaily, 'what a sympathy there must be between us! I have had nothing else, poor Rick excepted-it's a large exception-in my mind. When you came in, I was full of it. When shall we give Bleak House its mistress, little woman?'
'When you please.'
'Next month?'
'Next month, dear guardian.'
'The day on which I take the happiest and best step of my life-the day on which I shall be a man more exulting and more enviable than any other man in the world-the day on which I give Bleak House its little mistress- shall be next month then,' said my guardian.
I put my arms round his neck and kissed him just as I had done on the day when I brought my answer.
A servant came to the door to announce Mr. Bucket, which was quite unnecessary, for Mr. Bucket was already looking in over the servant's shoulder. 'Mr. Jarndyce and Miss Summerson,' said he, rather out of breath, 'with all apologies for intruding, WILL you allow me to order up a person that's on the stairs and that objects to being left there in case of becoming the subject of observations in his absence? Thank you. Be so good as chair that there member in this direction, will you?' said Mr. Bucket, beckoning over the banisters.
This singular request produced an old man in a black skull-cap, unable to walk, who was carried up by a couple of bearers and deposited in the room near the door. Mr. Bucket immediately got rid of the bearers, mysteriously shut the door, and bolted it.
'Now you see, Mr. Jarndyce,' he then began, putting down his hat and opening his subject with a flourish of his well-remembered finger, 'you know me, and Miss Summerson knows me. This gentleman likewise knows me, and his name is Smallweed. The discounting line is his line principally, and he's what you may call a dealer in bills. That's about what YOU are, you know, ain't you?' said Mr.
Bucket, stopping a little to address the gentleman in question, who was exceedingly suspicious of him.
He seemed about to dispute this designation of himself when he was seized with a violent fit of coughing.
'Now, moral, you know!' said Mr. Bucket, improving the accident.
'Don't you contradict when there ain't no occasion, and you won't be took in that way. Now, Mr. Jarndyce, I address myself to you.
I've been negotiating with this gentleman on behalf of Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet, and one way and another I've been in and out and about his premises a deal. His premises are the premises formerly occupied by Krook, marine store dealer-a relation of this gentleman's that you saw in his lifetime if I don't mistake?'
My guardian replied, 'Yes.'
'Well! You are to understand,' said Mr. Bucket, 'that this gentleman he come into Krook's property, and a good deal of magpie property there was. Vast lots of waste-paper among the rest. Lord bless you, of no use to nobody!'
The cunning of Mr. Bucket's eye and the masterly manner in which he contrived, without a look or a word against which his watchful auditor could protest, to let us know that he stated the case according to previous agreement and could say much more of Mr.
Smallweed if he thought it advisable, deprived us of any merit in quite understanding him. His difficulty was increased by Mr.
Smallweed's being deaf as well as suspicious and watching his face with the closest attention.
'Among them odd heaps of old papers, this gentleman, when he comes into the property, naturally begins to rummage, don't you see?' said Mr. Bucket.
'To which? Say that again,' cried Mr. Smallweed in a shrill, sharp voice.
'To rummage,' repeated Mr. Bucket. 'Being a prudent man and accustomed to take care of your own affairs, you begin to rummage among the papers as you have come into; don't you?'
'Of course I do,' cried Mr. Smallweed.
'Of course you do,' said Mr. Bucket conversationally, 'and much to blame you would be if you didn't. And so you chance to find, you know,' Mr. Bucket went on, stooping over him with an air of cheerful raillery which Mr. Smallweed by no means reciprocated,
'and so you chance to find, you know, a paper with the signature of Jarndyce to it. Don't you?'
Mr. Smallweed glanced with a troubled eye at us and grudgingly nodded assent.
'And coming to look at that paper at your full leisure and convenience-all in good time, for you're not curious to read it, and why should you be?-what do you find it to be but a will, you see. That's the drollery of it,' said Mr. Bucket with the same lively air of recalling a joke for the enjoyment of Mr. Smallweed, who still had the same crest-fallen appearance of not enjoying it at all; 'what do you find it to be but a will?'
'I don't know that it's good as a will or as anything else,' snarled Mr. Smallweed.
Mr. Bucket eyed the old man for a moment-he had slipped and shrunk down in his chair into a mere bundle-as if he were much disposed to pounce upon him; nevertheless, he continued to bend over him with the same agreeable air, keeping the corner of one of his eyes upon us.
'Notwithstanding which,' said Mr. Bucket, 'you get a little doubtful and uncomfortable in your mind about it, having a very tender mind of your own.'
'Eh? What do you say I have got of my own?' asked Mr. Smallweed with his hand to his ear.
'A very tender mind.'
'Ho! Well, go on,' said Mr. Smallweed.
'And as you've heard a good deal mentioned regarding a celebrated Chancery will case of the same name, and as you know what a card Krook was for buying all manner of old pieces of furniter, and books, and papers, and what not, and never liking to part with 'em, and always a-going to teach himself to read, you begin to think-and you never was more correct in your born days-'Ecod, if I don't look about me, I may get into trouble regarding this
