Chapter 62 - Page 2

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,