Well, to be sure!

No, she had never seen him. Young as she was when her mama died,

she remembered how the tears would come into her eyes when she

spoke of him and of the noble generosity of his character, which she had

said was to be trusted above all earthly things; and Ada trusted it. Her

cousin Jarndyce had written to her a few months ago— a plain, honest ‟

letter,” Ada said—proposing the arrangement we were now to enter on

and telling her that in time it might heal some of the wounds made by ‟

the miserable Chancery suit.” She had replied, gratefully accepting his

proposal. Richard had received a similar letter and had made a similar

response. He had seen Mr. Jarndyce once, but only once, five years ago,

at Winchester school. He had told Ada, when they were leaning on the

screen before the fire where I found them, that he recollected him as a ‟

bluff, rosy fellow.” This was the utmost description Ada could give me.

It set me thinking so that when Ada was asleep, I still remained

before the fire, wondering and wondering about Bleak House, and

wondering and wondering that yesterday morning should seem so long

ago. I don’t know where my thoughts had wandered when they were

recalled by a tap at the door.

I opened it softly and found Miss Jellyby shivering there with a

broken candle in a broken candlestick in one hand and an egg-cup in the

other.

‟Good night!” she said very sulkily.

‟Good night!” said I.

‟May I come in?” she shortly and unexpectedly asked me in the same

sulky way.

Certainly,” said I. Don’t wake Miss Clare.” ‟ ‟

She would not sit down, but stood by the fire dipping her inky middle

finger in the egg-cup, which contained vinegar, and smearing it over the

ink stains on her face, frowning the whole time and looking very gloomy.

‟I wish Africa was dead!” she said on a sudden.No, she had never seen him. Young as she was when her mama died,

she remembered how the tears would come into her eyes when she

spoke of him and of the noble generosity of his character, which she had

said was to be trusted above all earthly things; and Ada trusted it. Her

cousin Jarndyce had written to her a few months ago— a plain, honest ‟

letter,” Ada said—proposing the arrangement we were now to enter on

and telling her that in time it might heal some of the wounds made by ‟

the miserable Chancery suit.” She had replied, gratefully accepting his

proposal. Richard had received a similar letter and had made a similar

response. He had seen Mr. Jarndyce once, but only once, five years ago,

at Winchester school. He had told Ada, when they were leaning on the

screen before the fire where I found them, that he recollected him as a ‟

bluff, rosy fellow.” This was the utmost description Ada could give me.

It set me thinking so that when Ada was asleep, I still remained

before the fire, wondering and wondering about Bleak House, and

wondering and wondering that yesterday morning should seem so long

ago. I don’t know where my thoughts had wandered when they were

recalled by a tap at the door.

I opened it softly and found Miss Jellyby shivering there with a

broken candle in a broken candlestick in one hand and an egg-cup in the

other.

‟Good night!” she said very sulkily.

‟Good night!” said I.

‟May I come in?” she shortly and unexpectedly asked me in the same

sulky way.

Certainly,” said I. Don’t wake Miss Clare.” ‟ ‟

She would not sit down, but stood by the fire dipping her inky middle

finger in the egg-cup, which contained vinegar, and smearing it over the

ink stains on her face, frowning the whole time and looking very gloomy.

‟I wish Africa was dead!” she said on a sudden.