Chapter XXXVIII. A Struggle

by Charles Dickens

　　When our time came for returning to Bleak House again, we werepunctual to the day and were received with an overpowering welcome.I was perfectly restored to health and strength, and finding myhousekeeping keys laid ready for me in my room, rang myself in asif I had been a new year, with a merry little peal. "Once more,duty, duty, Esther," said I; "and if you are not overjoyed to doit, more than cheerfully and contentedly, through anything andeverything, you ought to be. That's all I have to say to you, mydear!"The first few mornings were mornings of so much bustle andbusiness, devoted to such settlements of accounts, such repeatedjourneys to and fro between the growlery and all other parts of thehouse, so many rearrangements of drawers and presses, and such ageneral new beginning altogether, that I had not a moment'sleisure. But when these arrangements were completed and everythingwas in order, I paid a visit of a few hours to London, whichsomething in the letter I had destroyed at Chesney Wold had inducedme to decide upon in my own mind.I made Caddy Jellyby--her maiden name was so natural to me that Ialways called her by it--the pretext for this visit and wrote her anote previously asking the favour of her company on a littlebusiness expedition. Leaving home very early in the morning, I gotto London by stage-coach in such good time that I got to NewmanStreet with the day before me.Caddy, who had not seen me since her wedding-day, was so glad andso affectionate that I was half inclined to fear I should make herhusband jealous. But he was, in his way, just as bad--I mean asgood; and in short it was the old story, and nobody would leave meany possibility of doing anything meritorious.The elder Mr. Turveydrop was in bed, I found, and Caddy was millinghis chocolate, which a melancholy little boy who was an apprentice--it seemed such a curious thing to be apprenticed to the trade ofdancing--was waiting to carry upstairs. Her father-in-law wasextremely kind and considerate, Caddy told me, and they lived mosthappily together. (When she spoke of their living together, shemeant that the old gentleman had all the good things and all thegood lodging, while she and her husband had what they could get,and were poked into two corner rooms over the Mews.)"And how is your mama, Caddy?" said I."Why, I hear of her, Esther," replied Caddy, "through Pa, but I seevery little of her. We are good friends, I am glad to say, but Mathinks there is something absurd in my having married a dancing-master, and she is rather afraid of its extending to her."It struck me that if Mrs. Jellyby had discharged her own naturalduties and obligations before she swept the horizon with atelescope in search of others, she would have taken the bestprecautions against becoming absurd, but I need scarcely observethat I kept this to myself."And your papa, Caddy?""He comes here every evening," returned Caddy, "and is so fond ofsitting in the corner there that it's a treat to see him."Looking at the corner, I plainly perceived the mark of Mr.Jellyby's head against the wall. It was consolatory to know thathe had found such a resting-place for it."And you, Caddy," said I, "you are always busy, I'll be bound?""Well, my dear," returned Caddy, "I am indeed, for to tell you agrand secret, I am qualifying myself to give lessons. Prince'shealth is not strong, and I want to be able to assist him. Whatwith schools, and classes here, and private pupils, and theapprentices, he really has too much to do, poor fellow!"The notion of the apprentices was still so odd to me that I askedCaddy if there were many of them."Four," said Caddy. "One in-door, and three out. They are verygood children; only when they get together they will play--children-like--instead of attending to their work. So the littleboy you saw just now waltzes by himself in the empty kitchen, andwe distribute the others over the house as well as we can.""That is only for their steps, of course?" said I."Only for their steps," said Caddy. "In that way they practise, somany hours at a time, whatever steps they happen to be upon. Theydance in the academy, and at this time of year we do figures atfive every morning.""Why, what a laborious life!" I exclaimed."I assure you, my dear," returned Caddy, smiling, "when the out-door apprentices ring us up in the morning (the bell rings into ourroom, not to disturb old Mr. Turveydrop), and when I put up thewindow and see them standing on the door-step with their littlepumps under their arms, I am actually reminded of the Sweeps."All this presented the art to me in a singular light, to be sure.Caddy enjoyed the effect of her communication and cheerfullyrecounted the particulars of her own studies."You see, my dear, to save expense I ought to know something of thepiano, and I ought to know something of the kit too, andconsequently I have to practise those two instruments as well asthe details of our profession. If Ma had been like anybody else, Imight have had some little musical knowledge to begin upon.However, I hadn't any; and that part of the work is, at first, alittle discouraging, I must allow. But I have a very good ear, andI am used to drudgery--I have to thank Ma for that, at all events--and where there's a will there's a way, you know, Esther, the worldover." Saying these words, Caddy laughingly sat down at a littlejingling square piano and really rattled off a quadrille with greatspirit. Then she good-humouredly and blushingly got up again, andwhile she still laughed herself, said, "Don't laugh at me, please;that's a dear girl!"I would sooner have cried, but I did neither. I encouraged her andpraised her with all my heart. For I conscientiously believed,dancing-master's wife though she was, and dancing-mistress thoughin her limited ambition she aspired to be, she had struck out anatural, wholesome, loving course of industry and perseverance thatwas quite as good as a mission."My dear," said Caddy, delighted, "you can't think how you cheerme. I shall owe you, you don't know how much. What changes,Esther, even in my small world! You recollect that first night,when I was so unpolite and inky? Who would have thought, then, ofmy ever teaching people to dance, of all other possibilities andimpossibilities!"Her husband, who had left us while we had this chat, now comingback, preparatory to exercising the apprentices in the ball-room,Caddy informed me she was quite at my disposal. But it was not mytime yet, I was glad to tell her, for I should have been vexed totake her away then. Therefore we three adjourned to theapprentices together, and I made one in the dance.The apprentices were the queerest little people. Besides themelancholy boy, who, I hoped, had not been made so by waltzingalone in the empty kitchen, there were two other boys and one dirtylittle limp girl in a gauzy dress. Such a precocious little girl,with such a dowdy bonnet on (that, too, of a gauzy texture), whobrought her sandalled shoes in an old threadbare velvet reticule.Such mean little boys, when they were not dancing, with string, andmarbles, and cramp-bones in their pockets, and the most untidy legsand feet--and heels particularly.I asked Caddy what had made their parents choose this professionfor them. Caddy said she didn't know; perhaps they were designedfor teachers, perhaps for the stage. They were all people inhumble circumstances, and the melancholy boy's mother kept aginger-beer shop.We danced for an hour with great gravity, the melancholy childdoing wonders with his lower extremities, in which there appearedto be some sense of enjoyment though it never rose above his waist.Caddy, while she was observant of her husband and was evidentlyfounded upon him, had acquired a grace and self-possession of herown, which, united to her pretty face and figure, was uncommonlyagreeable. She already relieved him of much of the instruction ofthese young people, and he seldom interfered except to walk hispart in the figure if he had anything to do in it. He alwaysplayed the tune. The affectation of the gauzy child, and hercondescension to the boys, was a sight. And thus we danced an hourby the clock.When the practice was concluded, Caddy's husband made himself readyto go out of town to a school, and Caddy ran away to get ready togo out with me. I sat in the ball-room in the interval,contemplating the apprentices. The two out-door boys went upon thestaircase to put on their half-boots and pull the in-door boy'shair, as I judged from the nature of his objections. Returningwith their jackets buttoned and their pumps stuck in them, theythen produced packets of cold bread and meat and bivouacked under apainted lyre on the wall. The little gauzy child, having whiskedher sandals into the reticule and put on a trodden-down pair ofshoes, shook her head into the dowdy bonnet at one shake, andanswering my inquiry whether she liked dancing by replying, "Notwith boys," tied it across her chin, and went home contemptuous."Old Mr. Turveydrop is so sorry," said Caddy, "that he has notfinished dressing yet and cannot have the pleasure of seeing youbefore you go. You are such a favourite of his, Esther."I expressed myself much obliged to him, but did not think itnecessary to add that I readily dispensed with this attention."It takes him a long time to dress," said Caddy, "because he isvery much looked up to in such things, you know, and has areputation to support. You can't think how kind he is to Pa. Hetalks to Pa of an evening about the Prince Regent, and I never sawPa so interested."There was something in the picture of Mr. Turveydrop bestowing hisdeportment on Mr. Jellyby that quite took my fancy. I asked Caddyif he brought her papa out much."No," said Caddy, "I don't know that he does that, but he talks toPa, and Pa greatly admires him, and listens, and likes it. Ofcourse I am aware that Pa has hardly any claims to deportment, butthey get on together delightfully. You can't think what goodcompanions they make. I never saw Pa take snuff before in my life,but he takes one pinch out of Mr. Turveydrop's box regularly andkeeps putting it to his nose and taking it away again all theevening."That old Mr. Turveydrop should ever, in the chances and changes oflife, have come to the rescue of Mr. Jellyby from Borrioboola-Ghaappeared to me to be one of the pleasantest of oddities."As to Peepy," said Caddy with a little hesitation, "whom I wasmost afraid of--next to having any family of my own, Esther--as aninconvenience to Mr. Turveydrop, the kindness of the old gentlemanto that child is beyond everything. He asks to see him, my dear!He lets him take the newspaper up to him in bed; he gives him thecrusts of his toast to eat; he sends him on little errands aboutthe house; he tells him to come to me for sixpences. In short,"said Caddy cheerily, "and not to prose, I am a very fortunate girland ought to be very grateful. Where are we going, Esther?""To the Old Street Road," said I, "where I have a few words to sayto the solicitor's clerk who was sent to meet me at the coach-office on the very day when I came to London and first saw you, mydear. Now I think of it, the gentleman who brought us to yourhouse.""Then, indeed, I seem to be naturally the person to go with you,"returned Caddy.To the Old Street Road we went and there inquired at Mrs. Guppy'sresidence for Mrs. Guppy. Mrs. Guppy, occupying the parlours andhaving indeed been visibly in danger of cracking herself like a nutin the front-parlour door by peeping out before she was asked for,immediately presented herself and requested us to walk in. She wasan old lady in a large cap, with rather a red nose and rather anunsteady eye, but smiling all over. Her close little sitting-roomwas prepared for a visit, and there was a portrait of her son in itwhich, I had almost written here, was more like than life: itinsisted upon him with such obstinacy, and was so determined not tolet him off.Not only was the portrait there, but we found the original theretoo. He was dressed in a great many colours and was discovered ata table reading law-papers with his forefinger to his forehead."Miss Summerson," said Mr. Guppy, rising, "this is indeed an oasis.Mother, will you be so good as to put a chair for the other ladyand get out of the gangway."Mrs. Guppy, whose incessant smiling gave her quite a waggishappearance, did as her son requested and then sat down in a corner,holding her pocket handkerchief to her chest, like a fomentation,with both hands.I presented Caddy, and Mr. Guppy said that any friend of mine wasmore than welcome. I then proceeded to the object of my visit."I took the liberty of sending you a note, sir," said I.Mr. Guppy acknowledged the receipt by taking it out of his breast-pocket, putting it to his lips, and returning it to his pocket witha bow. Mr. Guppy's mother was so diverted that she rolled her headas she smiled and made a silent appeal to Caddy with her elbow."Could I speak to you alone for a moment?" said I.Anything like the jocoseness of Mr. Guppy's mother just now, Ithink I never saw. She made no sound of laughter, but she rolledher head, and shook it, and put her handkerchief to her mouth, andappealed to Caddy with her elbow, and her hand, and her shoulder,and was so unspeakably entertained altogether that it was with somedifficulty she could marshal Caddy through the little folding-doorinto her bedroom adjoining."Miss Summerson," said Mr. Guppy, "you will excuse the waywardnessof a parent ever mindful of a son's appiness. My mother, thoughhighly exasperating to the feelings, is actuated by maternaldictates."I could hardly have believed that anybody could in a moment haveturned so red or changed so much as Mr. Guppy did when I now put upmy veil."I asked the favour of seeing you for a few moments here," said I,"in preference to calling at Mr. Kenge's because, remembering whatyou said on an occasion when you spoke to me in confidence, Ifeared I might otherwise cause you some embarrassment, Mr. Guppy."I caused him embarrassment enough as it was, I am sure. I neversaw such faltering, such confusion, such amazement andapprehension."Miss Summerson," stammered Mr. Guppy, "I--I--beg your pardon, butin our profession--we--we--find it necessary to be explicit. Youhave referred to an occasion, miss, when I--when I did myself thehonour of making a declaration which--"Something seemed to rise in his throat that he could not possiblyswallow. He put his hand there, coughed, made faces, tried againto swallow it, coughed again, made faces again, looked all roundthe room, and fluttered his papers."A kind of giddy sensation has come upon me, miss," he explained,"which rather knocks me over. I--er--a little subject to this sortof thing--er--by George!"I gave him a little time to recover. He consumed it in putting hishand to his forehead and taking it away again, and in backing hischair into the corner behind him."My intention was to remark, miss," said Mr. Guppy, "dear me--something bronchial, I think--hem!--to remark that you was so goodon that occasion as to repel and repudiate that declaration. You--you wouldn't perhaps object to admit that? Though no witnesses arepresent, it might be a satisfaction to--to your mind--if you was toput in that admission.""There can be no doubt," said I, "that I declined your proposalwithout any reservation or qualification whatever, Mr. Guppy.""Thank you, miss," he returned, measuring the table with histroubled hands. "So far that's satisfactory, and it does youcredit. Er--this is certainly bronchialer--you wouldn't perhaps be offended if I was to mention--not thatit's necessary, for your own good sense or any person's sense mustshow 'em that--if I was to mention that such declaration on my partwas final, and there terminated?""I quite understand that," said I."Perhaps--er--it may not be worth the form, but it might be asatisfaction to your mind--perhaps you wouldn't object to admitthat, miss?" said Mr. Guppy."I admit it most fully and freely," said I."Thank you," returned Mr. Guppy. "Very honourable, I am sure. Iregret that my arrangements in life, combined with circumstancesover which I have no control, will put it out of my power ever tofall back upon that offer or to renew it in any shape or formwhatever, but it will ever be a retrospect entwined--er--withfriendship's bowers." Mr. Guppy's bronchitis came to his reliefand stopped his measurement of the table."I may now perhaps mention what I wished to say to you?" I began."I shall be honoured, I am sure," said Mr. Guppy. "I am sopersuaded that your own good sense and right feeling, miss, will--will keep you as square as possible--that I can have nothing butpleasure, I am sure, in hearing any observations you may wish tooffer.""You were so good as to imply, on that occasion--""Excuse me, miss," said Mr. Guppy, "but we had better not travelout of the record into implication. I cannot admit that I impliedanything.""You said on that occasion," I recommenced, "that you mightpossibly have the means of advancing my interests and promoting myfortunes by making discoveries of which I should be the subject. Ipresume that you founded that belief upon your general knowledge ofmy being an orphan girl, indebted for everything to the benevolenceof Mr. Jarndyce. Now, the beginning and the end of what I havecome to beg of you is, Mr. Guppy, that you will have the kindnessto relinquish all idea of so serving me. I have thought of thissometimes, and I have thought of it most lately--since I have beenill. At length I have decided, in case you should at any timerecall that purpose and act upon it in any way, to come to you andassure you that you are altogether mistaken. You could make nodiscovery in reference to me that would do me the least service orgive me the least pleasure. I am acquainted with my personalhistory, and I have it in my power to assure you that you never canadvance my welfare by such means. You may, perhaps, have abandonedthis project a long time. If so, excuse my giving you unnecessarytrouble. If not, I entreat you, on the assurance I have given you,henceforth to lay it aside. I beg you to do this, for my peace.""I am bound to confess," said Mr. Guppy, "that you expressyourself, miss, with that good sense and right feeling for which Igave you credit. Nothing can be more satisfactory than such rightfeeling, and if I mistook any intentions on your part just now, Iam prepared to tender a full apology. I should wish to beunderstood, miss, as hereby offering that apology--limiting it, asyour own good sense and right feeling will point out the necessityof, to the present proceedings."I must say for Mr. Guppy that the snuffling manner he had had uponhim improved very much. He seemed truly glad to be able to dosomething I asked, and he looked ashamed."If you will allow me to finish what I have to say at once so thatI may have no occasion to resume," I went on, seeing him about tospeak, "you will do me a kindness, sir. I come to you as privatelyas possible because you announced this impression of yours to me ina confidence which I have really wished to respect--and which Ialways have respected, as you remember. I have mentioned myillness. There really is no reason why I should hesitate to saythat I know very well that any little delicacy I might have had inmaking a request to you is quite removed. Therefore I make theentreaty I have now preferred, and I hope you will have sufficientconsideration for me to accede to it."I must do Mr. Guppy the further justice of saying that he hadlooked more and more ashamed and that he looked most ashamed andvery earnest when he now replied with a burning face, "Upon my wordand honour, upon my life, upon my soul, Miss Summerson, as I am aliving man, I'll act according to your wish! I'll never go anotherstep in opposition to it. I'll take my oath to it if it will beany satisfaction to you. In what I promise at this present timetouching the matters now in question," continued Mr. Guppy rapidly,as if he were repeating a familiar form of words, "I speak thetruth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so--""I am quite satisfied," said I, rising at this point, "and I thankyou very much. Caddy, my dear, I am ready!"Mr. Guppy's mother returned with Caddy (now making me the recipientof her silent laughter and her nudges), and we took our leave. Mr.Guppy saw us to the door with the air of one who was eitherimperfectly awake or walking in his sleep; and we left him there,staring.But in a minute he came after us down the street without any hat,and with his long hair all blown about, and stopped us, sayingfervently, "Miss Summerson, upon my honour and soul, you may dependupon me!""I do," said I, "quite confidently.""I beg your pardon, miss," said Mr. Guppy, going with one leg andstaying with the other, "but this lady being present--your ownwitness--it might be a satisfaction to your mind (which I shouldwish to set at rest) if you was to repeat those admissions.""Well, Caddy," said I, turning to her, "perhaps you will not besurprised when I tell you, my dear, that there never has been anyengagement--""No proposal or promise of marriage whatsoever," suggested Mr.Guppy."No proposal or promise of marriage whatsoever," said I, "betweenthis gentleman--""William Guppy, of Penton Place, Pentonville, in the county ofMiddlesex," he murmured."Between this gentleman, Mr. William Guppy, of Penton Place,Pentonville, in the county of Middlesex, and myself.""Thank you, miss," said Mr. Guppy. "Very full--er--excuse me--lady's name, Christian and surname both?"I gave them."Married woman, I believe?" said Mr. Guppy. "Married woman. Thankyou. Formerly Caroline Jellyby, spinster, then of Thavies Inn,within the city of London, but extra-parochial; now of NewmanStreet, Oxford Street. Much obliged."He ran home and came running back again."Touching that matter, you know, I really and truly am very sorrythat my arrangements in life, combined with circumstances overwhich I have no control, should prevent a renewal of what waswholly terminated some time back," said Mr. Guppy to me forlornlyand despondently, "but it couldn't be. Now could it, you know! Ionly put it to you."I replied it certainly could not. The subject did not admit of adoubt. He thanked me and ran to his mother's again--and backagain."It's very honourable of you, miss, I am sure," said Mr. Guppy."If an altar could be erected in the bowers of friendship--but,upon my soul, you may rely upon me in every respect save and exceptthe tender passion only!"The struggle in Mr. Guppy's breast and the numerous oscillations itoccasioned him between his mother's door and us were sufficientlyconspicuous in the windy street (particularly as his hair wantedcutting) to make us hurry away. I did so with a lightened heart;but when we last looked back, Mr. Guppy was still oscillating inthe same troubled state of mind.