lishman up Could you give us British Grenadiers, my fine fellow ?" Nothing could be more acceptable to the little circle than this call upon young Woolwich, who immediately fetches his fife and performs the stirring melody during which performance Mr. Bucket, much enlivened, beats time, and never fails to come in sharp with the burden, "Brit Ish Gra-a-anadeers!" In short, he shows so much musical taste, that Mr. Bagnet actually takes his pipe from his lips to express his conviction that he is a singer. Mr. Bucket receives the harmonious impeachment so modestly: confessing how that he did once chaunt a little, for the expression of the feelings of his own bosom, and with no presumptuous idea of entertaining his friends: that he is asked to sing. Not to be behindhand in the sociality of the evening, he complies, and gives them "Believe me if all those endearing young charms." This ballad, he informs Mrs. Bagnet he considers to have been his most powerful ally in moving the heart of Mrs. Bucket when a maiden, and inlucing her to approach the altar-Mr. Bucket's own words are, to come up to the scratch. This sparkling stranger is such a new und agreeable feature in the evening, that Mr. George, who testified no great emotions of pleasure on his entrance, begins, in spite of himself, to be rather proud of him. He is so friendly, is a Lan of so many resources, and so easy to get on with, that it is something to have made him known there. Mr. Bagnet becomes, after another pipe, so sensible of the value of his acquaintance, that he solicits the honor of his company on the old girl's next birthday. If anything can more closely cement and consolidate the esteem which Mr. Bucket has formed for the family, it is the discovery of the nature of the occasion. He drinks to Mrs. Bagnet with a warmth approaching to rapture, engages himself for that day twelvemonth more than thankfully, makes a memorandum of the day in a large black pocket-book with a girdle to it, and breathes a hope that Mrs. Bucket and Mrs. Bagnet may before then become, in a manner, sisters. As he says himself, what is public life without private ties ? He is in his humble way a public man, but it is not in that sphere that he finds happiness. No, it must be sought within the confines of domestic bliss. It is natural, under these circumstances, that he, in his turn, should remember the friend to whom he is indebted for so promising an acquaintance. And he does. He keeps very close to him. Whatever the subject of the conversation, he keeps a tender eye upon him. He waits to walk home with him. boots; and observes even them attentively, as Mr. George sits smoking cross-legged in the chimney corner. He is interested in his very At length, Mr. George rises to depart. At the same moment Mr. Bucket, with the secret sympathy of friendship, also rises. He dotes upon the children to the last, and remembers the commission he has undertaken for an absent friend. "Respecting that second-hand wiolinceller, governor-could you recommend me such a thing?" returns Mr. "You're "Scores," says Mr. Bagnet. "I am obliged to you, Bucket, squeezing his hand, a friend in need. A good tone, mind you! My friend is a regular dab at it. Ecod, he saws away at Mo-zart and Handel, and the rest of the big-wigs, like a thorough workman. And you needn't," says Mr. Bucket, in a considerate and private voice, "you needn't commit yourself to too low a figure, governor. I don't want to pay too large a price for my friend; but I want you to have your proper percentage, and be remunerated for your loss of time. That is but fair. Every man must live, and ought to it." Mr. Bagnet shakes his head at the old girl, to the effect that they have found a jewel of price. "Suppose I was to give you a look in, say at half arter ten to-morrow morning. Perhaps you could name the figures of a few wiolincellers of a good tone?" says Mr. Bucket. and Mrs. | you may make will be liable to be used Nothing easier. Mr. Bagnet both engage to have the requisite information ready, and even hint to each other at the practicability of baving a small stock collected there for approval. Thank you,' says Mr. Bucket, "thank you. Good night, ma'am. Good night, governor. Good night, darlings. I am much obliged to you for one of the pleasantest evenings I ever spent in my life." 99 They, on the contrary, are much obliged to him for the pleasure he has given them in his company; and so they part with many expressions of good-will on both sides. "Now, George, old boy," says Mr. Bucket, taking his arm at the shop door, 66 come along!" As they go down the little street, and the Bagnets pause for a minute looking after them, Mrs. Bagnet remarks to the worthy Lignum that Mr. Bucket "almost clings to George like, and seems to be really fond of him." The neighbouring streets being narrow and ill paved, it is a little inconvenient to walk there two abreast and arm in arm. Mr. George therefore soon proposes to walk singly. But Mr. Bucket, who cannot make up his mind to relinquish his friendly hold, replies, "Wait half a minute, George. I should wish to speak to you first." Immediately afterwards, he twists him into a public-house and into a parlor, where he confronts him, and claps his own back against the door. "Now, George,' says Mr. Bucket, keeping his forefinger in an impressive state of action, "bear in mind what I've said to you. I ask you nothing. You've been in low spirits this afternoon. say, you don't happen to have heard of a murder." "No. murder?" 66 Where has there been a Now, George," says Mr. Bucket, "don't you go and commit yourself. I'm a going to tell you what I want you for. There has been a murder in Lincoln's Inn Fields-gentleman of the name of Tulkinghorn. He was shot last night. I want you for that." The trooper sinks upon a seat behind him, and great drops start out upon his forehead, and a deadly pallor overspreads his face. "Bucket! It's not possible that Mr. Tulkinghorn has been killed, and that you suspect me?" "George, returns Mr. Bucket, keeping his forefinger going, "it is certainly possible, because it's the case. This deed was done last night at ten o'clock. Now, you know where you were last night at ten o'clock, and you'll be able to prove it no doubt." "Last night! Last night?" repeats the trooper, thoughtfully. Then it flashes upon him. "Why, great Heaven, I was there, last night!" "So I have understood, George," returns Mr. Bucket, with great deli "Now, George," says Mr. Bucket. "Duty is duty, and friendship is friendship. I never want the two to clash, if I can help it. I have en-beration. deavoured to make things pleasant tonight, and I put it to you whether I have done it or not. You must consider yourself in custody, George." 66 Custody? What for?" returns the trooper, thunderstruck. "Now, George," says Mr. Bucket, urging a sensible view of the case upon him with his fat forefinger, "duty, as you know very well, is one thing, and conversation is another. It's my duty to inform you that any observations "So I have understood Likewise you've been very often there You've been seen hanging about the place, and you've been heard more than once in a wrangle with him, and it's possible-I don't say it's certainly so, mind you, but it's possible-that he may have been heard to call you a threatening, murdering, dangerous fellow." The trooper gasps as if he would admit it all, if he could speak. "Now, George," continues Mr. an Bucket, putting his hat upon the table, | Are they comfortable? If not, say so, with an air of business rather in the for I wish to make things as pleasant upholstery way than otherwise, "My as is consistent with my duty, and I've wish is, as it has been all the evening, got another pair in my pocket." This to make things pleasant. I tell you remark he offers like a most respectable plainly there's a reward out, of a hun- tradesman, anxious to execute dred guineas, offered by Sir Leicester order neatly, and to the perfect satis Dedlock, Baronet. You and me have faction of his customer. "They'll de always been pleasant together; but I as they are? Very well! Now, you have got a duty to discharge; and if see George ;" he takes a cloak from a that hundred gnineas is to be made, it corner, and begins adjusting it about may as well be made by me as by the trooper's neck; "I was mindful of another man. On all of which ac- your feelings when I come out, and counts, I should hope it was clear to brought this on purpose. There! you that I must have you, and that I'm damned if I don't have you. Am I to call in any assistance, or is the trick done?" Mr. George has recovered himself, and stands like a soldier. up "Come, he says; "I am ready." "George," continues Mr. Bucket, "wait a bit!" With his upholsterer manner, as if the trooper were a window to be fitted up, he takes from his pocket a pair of handcuffs. "This is a serious charge, George, and such is my duty." The trooper flushes angrily, and hesitates a moment; but holds out his two hands, clasped together, and says, "There! Put them on!" Mr. Bucket adjusts them in a moment. "How do you find them? Who's the wiser ?" "Only I," returns the trooper; "but, as I know it, do me one more good turn, and pull my hat over my eyes.' 66 'Really, though! Do you mean it ? Ain't it a pity? It looks so." "I can't look chance men in the face with these things on," Mr. George hurriedly replies. "Do, for God's sake, pull my hat forward." So strongly entreated, Mr. Bucket complies, puts his own hat on, and conducts his prize into the streets; the trooper marching on as steadily as usual, though with his head less erect; and Mr. Bucket steering him with his elbow over the crossings and up the turnings. CHAPTER L. ESTHER'S NARRATIVE. It happened that when I came home | ther, and I the godmother, of such a from Deal, I found a note from Caddy poor little baby-such a tiny old-faced Jellyby (as we always continued to call mite, with a countenance that seemed her), informing me that her health, to be scarcely anything but cap-border, which had been for some time very and a little lean, long-fingered hand, delicate, was worse, and that she would always clenched under its chin. It be more glad than she could tell me if would lie in this attitude all day, with I would go to see her. It was a note its bright specks of eyes open, wonderof a few lines, written from the couch ing (as I used to imagine) how it came Whenever it on which she lay, and inclosed to me to be so small and weak. in another from her husband, in which was moved, it cried; but at all other he seconded her entreaty with much times it was so patient, that the sole solicitude. Caddy was now the mo- desire of its life appeared to be, to lio quiet, and think. It had curious little dark veins in its face, and curious little dark marks under its eyes, like faint remembrances of poor Caddy's inky days; and altogether, to those who were not used to it, it was quite a piteous little sight. But it was enough for Caddy that she was used to it. The projects with which she beguiled her illness, for little Esther's education, and little Esther's marriage, and even for her own old age, as the grandmother of little Esther's little Esthers, were so prettily expressive of devotion to this pride of her life, that I should be tempted to recall some of them, but for the timely remembrance that I am getting on irregularly as it is. To return to the letter. Caddy had a superstition about me, which had been strengthening in her mind ever since that night long ago, when she had lain asleep with her head in my lap. She almost-I think I must say quite -believed that I did her good when ever I was near her. Now, although this was such a faucy of the affectionate girl's that I am almost ashamed to mention it, still it might have all the force of a fact when she was really ill. Therefore I set off to Caddy, with my guardian's consent, post-haste; and she and Prince made so much of me, that there never was anything like it. Next day I went again to sit with her, and next day I went again. It was a very easy journey; for I had only to rise a little earlier in the morning, and keep my accounts, and attend to house-keeping matters before leaving home. But when I had made these three visits, my guardian said to me, on my return at night: "Now, little woman, little woman, this will never do. Constant dropping will wear away a stone, and constant coaching will wear out a Dame Durden. We will go to London for a while, and take possession of our old lodgings." "Not for me, dear guardian," said I, "for I never feel tired;" which was strictly true. I was only too happy to dian; "or for Ada, or for both of us. It is somebody's birthday to-morrow, I think." "Truly I think it is," said I, kissing my darling, who would be twenty-one to-morrow. "Well," observed my guardian, half pleasantly, half seriously, "that's a great occasion, and will give my fair cousin some necessary business to transact in assertion of her independence, and will make London a more convenient place for all of us. So to London we will go. That being settled, there is another thing-how have you left Caddy?" "Very unwell, guardian. I fear it will be some time before she regains her health and strength." "What do you call some time, now?" asked my guardian, thoughtfully. "Some weeks, I am afraid." "Ah!" He began to walk about the room with his hands in his pockets, showing that he had been thinking as much. "Now what do you say about her doctor? Is he a good doctor, my love?" I felt obliged to confess that I knew nothing to the contrary; but that Prince and I had agreed only that evening, that we would like his opinion to be confirmed by some one. "Well, you know," returned my guardian quickly, "there's Woodcourt." I had not meant that, and was rather taken by surprise. For a moment, all that I had had in my mind in connexion with Mr. Woodcourt seemed to come back and confuse me. "You don't object to him, little woman ?" "Object to him, guardian? Oh no!" "And you don't think the patient would object to him?" So far from that, I had no doubt of her being prepared to have a great reliance on him, and to like him very much. I said that he was no stranger to her personally, for she had seen him often in his kind attendance on Miss be in such request. "For me then," returned my guar-Flite. With her husband and her poor little mite of a baby to love, and their home to strive for, what a good creature Caddy was! So self-denying, so uncomplaining, so anxious to get well on their account, so afraid of giving trouble, and so thoughtful of the unassisted labours of her husband and the comforts of old Mr. Turvey drop; I had never known the best of her until now. And it seemed so curious that her pale face and helpless figure should be lying there day after day, where dancing was the business of life; where the kit and the apprentices began early every morning in the ball-room, and where the untidy little boy waltzed by himself in the kitchen all the afternoon. "Very good," said my guardian. | and cheer her, and we did not talk "He has been here to-day, my dear, in our usual confidential manner. Whenand I will see him about it to-morrow." ever I went home at night, we were I felt, in this short conversation- together; but Caddy's rest was broken though I did not know how, for she by pain, and I often remained to nurse was quiet, and we interchanged no her. look-that my dear girl well remembered how merrily she had clasped me round the waist, when no other hands than Caddy's had brought me the little parting token. This caused me to feel that I ought to tell her, and Caddy too, that I was going to be the mistress of Bleak House; and that if I avoided that disclosure any longer, I might become less worthy in my own eyes of its master's love. Therefore, when we went up-stairs, and had waited listening until the clock struck twelve, in order that only I might be the first to wish my darling all good wishes on her birthday, and to take her to my heart, I set before her, just as I had set before myself, the goodness and honor of her cousin John, and the happy life that was in store for me. If ever my darling were fonder of me at one time than at another in all our intercourse, she was surely fondest of me that night. And I was so rejoiced to know it, and so comforted by the sense of having done right, in casting this last idle reservation away, that I was ten times happier than I had been before. I had scarcely thought it a reservation a few hours ago; but now that it was gone, I felt as if I understood its nature better. At Caddy's request, I took the supreme direction of her apartment, trimmed it up, and pushed her, couch and all, into a lighter and more airy and more cheerful corner than she had yet occupied; then, every day, when we were in our neatest array, I used to lay my small small namesake in her arms, and sit down to chat or work, or read to her. It was at one of the first of these quiet times that I told Caddy about Bleak House. We had other visitors besides Ada. First of all, we had Prince, who in his Next day we went to London. We hurried intervals of teaching used to found our old lodging vacant, and in come softly in and sit softly down, with half an hour were quietly established a face of loving anxiety for Caddy and there, as if we had never gone away. the very little child. Whatever Caddy's Mr. Woodcourt dined with us, to cele- condition really was, she never failed brate my darling's birthday; and we to declare to Prince that she was all were as pleasant as we could be with but well-which I, Heaven forgive me, the great blank among us that Richard's never failed to confirm. This would absence naturally made on such an put Prin ce in such good spirits, that he occasion. After that day I was for would sometimes take the kit from his some weeks-eight or nine as I remem-pocket and play a chord or two to ber-very much with Caddy; and thus it fell out that I saw less of Ada at this time than any other since we had first come together, except the time of my own illness. She often came to Caddy's; but our function there was to amuse astonish the baby-which I never knew it to do in the least degree, for my tiny namesake never noticed it at all. Then there was Mrs. Jellyby. She would come occasionally with her usual distraught manner, and sit calmly look. Ꭰ Ꭰ |