vainly tried to lose myself

with my eyes closed, among the scenes of the

day. At length, by slow degrees, they became indistinct and mingled. I

began to lose the identity of the sleeper resting on me. Now it was Ada,

now one of my old Reading friends from whom I could not believe I had

so recently parted. Now it was the little mad woman worn out with

curtsying and smiling, now some one in authority at Bleak House.

Lastly, it was no one, and I was no one.

The purblind day was feebly struggling with the fog when I opened

my eyes to encounter those of a dirty-faced little spectre fixed upon me.

Peepy had scaled his crib, and crept down in his bed-gown and cap, and

was so cold that his teeth were chattering as if he had cut them all.

CHAPTER V. A Morning Adventure

Although the morning was raw, and although the fog still seemed heavy

—I say seemed, for the windows were so encrusted with dirt that they

would have made midsummer sunshine dim—I was sufficiently

forewarned of the discomfort within doors at that early hour and

sufficiently curious about London to think it a good idea on the part of

Miss Jellyby when she proposed that we should go out for a walk.

Ma won’t be down for ever so long,” she said, and then it’s a chance ‟ ‟

if breakfast’s ready for an hour afterwards, they dawdle so. As to Pa, he

gets what he can and goes to the office. He never has what you would call

a regular breakfast. Priscilla leaves him out the loaf and some milk,

when there is any, overnight. Sometimes there isn’t any milk, and

sometimes the cat drinks it. But I’m afraid you must be tired, Miss

Summerson, and perhaps you would rather go to bed.”

I am not at all tired, my dear,” said I, and would much prefer to go ‟ ‟

out.”

If you’re sure you would,” returned Miss Jellyby, I’ll get my things ‟ ‟

on.with my eyes closed, among the scenes of the

day. At length, by slow degrees, they became indistinct and mingled. I

began to lose the identity of the sleeper resting on me. Now it was Ada,

now one of my old Reading friends from whom I could not believe I had

so recently parted. Now it was the little mad woman worn out with

curtsying and smiling, now some one in authority at Bleak House.

Lastly, it was no one, and I was no one.

The purblind day was feebly struggling with the fog when I opened

my eyes to encounter those of a dirty-faced little spectre fixed upon me.

Peepy had scaled his crib, and crept down in his bed-gown and cap, and

was so cold that his teeth were chattering as if he had cut them all.

CHAPTER V. A Morning Adventure

Although the morning was raw, and although the fog still seemed heavy

—I say seemed, for the windows were so encrusted with dirt that they

would have made midsummer sunshine dim—I was sufficiently

forewarned of the discomfort within doors at that early hour and

sufficiently curious about London to think it a good idea on the part of

Miss Jellyby when she proposed that we should go out for a walk.

Ma won’t be down for ever so long,” she said, and then it’s a chance ‟ ‟

if breakfast’s ready for an hour afterwards, they dawdle so. As to Pa, he

gets what he can and goes to the office. He never has what you would call

a regular breakfast. Priscilla leaves him out the loaf and some milk,

when there is any, overnight. Sometimes there isn’t any milk, and

sometimes the cat drinks it. But I’m afraid you must be tired, Miss

Summerson, and perhaps you would rather go to bed.”

I am not at all tired, my dear,” said I, and would much prefer to go ‟ ‟

out.”

If you’re sure you would,” returned Miss Jellyby, I’ll get my things ‟ ‟

on.