Miss Summerson

“ Boythorn, clapping him on the shoulder with an air of protection that had something serious in it, though he laughed. “He will stand by the low boy, always. Jarndyce, you may rely upon him! But speaking of this trespass— with apologies to Miss Clare and Miss Summerson for the length at which I have pursued so dry a subject—is there nothing for me from your men Kenge and Carboy?” ”

“ Your ladyship, I come to put you on your guard. There may be no occasion for it. Very well. Then I have only done my best to keep my promise to Miss Summerson. I strongly suspect (from what Small has dropped, and from what we have corkscrewed out of him) that those letters I was to have brought to your ladyship were not destroyed when I supposed they were. That if there was anything to be blown upon, it is blown upon. That the visitors I have alluded to have been here this morning to make money of it. ”

“ Say I am innocent and I get a lawyer. He would be as likely to believe me guilty as not; perhaps more. What would he do, whether or not? Act as if I was— shut my mouth up, tell me not to commit myself, keep circumstances back, chop the evidence small, quibble, and get me off perhaps! But, Miss Summerson, do I care for getting off in that way; or would I rather be hanged in my own way—if you’ll excuse my mentioning anything so disagreeable to a lady?”
He had warmed into his subject now, and was under no further necessity to wait a bit.
“I would rather be hanged in my own way. And I mean to be! ”

“ On our way I felt half inclined to tell her of Miss Summerson’s little act of deceit. Then, how very easy it would have been. Later it was to become more difficult, but that I could not foresee.
No sooner had we reached the club than I heard the names, Miss M. Hunter and F. H. Jeffcock, being shouted down the conical sound-muffle which the secretary is pleased to call a megaphone. We were to play on court number ten and I found that both my partner and our opponents were waiting for me there. ”

“ He had under his arm a hat of great size and weight, shelving downward from the crown to the brim, and in his hand a pair of white gloves with which he flapped it as he stood poised on one leg in a high-shouldered, round-elbowed state of elegance not to be surpassed. He had a cane, he had an eye-glass, he had a snuff-box, he had rings, he had wristbands, he had everything but any touch of nature; he was not like youth, he was not like age, he was not like anything in the world but a model of deportment.
“Father! A visitor. Miss Jellyby’s friend, Miss Summerson.” ”

“ There is a bed in the wholesome loft-room by the stable; we had better keep him there till morning, when he can be wrapped up and removed. We’ll do that.”
“Oh!” said Mr. Skimpole, with his hands upon the keys of the piano as we moved away. “Are you going back to our young friend?”
“Yes,” said my guardian.
“How I envy you your constitution, Jarndyce!” returned Mr. Skimpole with playful admiration. “You don’t mind these things; neither does Miss Summerson. You are ready at all times to go anywhere, and do anything. Such is will! I have no will at all—and no won’t—simply can’t.” ”

“ Bagnet, you’ll take care of my mother, I know?”
A very hard poke from the old girl’s umbrella.
“If you’ll bring her acquainted with Mr. Jarndyce and Miss Summerson, she will find them of her way of thinking, and they will give her the best advice and assistance.”
“And, George,” says the old lady, “we must send with all haste for your brother. He is a sensible sound man as they tell me—out in the world beyond Chesney Wold, my dear, though I don’t know much of it myself—and will be of great service.”
“Mother,” returns the trooper, “is it too soon to ask a favour?” ”

“ The door had been opened to admit another soldier-looking man of less prepossessing appearance at first sight and a weather-tanned, bright-eyed wholesome woman with a basket, who, from her entrance, had been exceedingly attentive to all Mr. George had said. Mr. George had received them with a familiar nod and a friendly look, but without any more particular greeting in the midst of his address. He now shook them cordially by the hand and said, “Miss Summerson and gentlemen, this is an old comrade of mine, Matthew Bagnet. And this is his wife, Mrs. Bagnet.” ”

“ And so we came, along a passage, into a comfortable sort of room where a young lady and a young gentleman were standing near a great, loud-roaring fire. A screen was interposed between them and it, and they were leaning on the screen, talking.
They both looked up when I came in, and I saw in the young lady, with the fire shining upon her, such a beautiful girl! With such rich golden hair, such soft blue eyes, and such a bright, innocent, trusting face!
“Miss Ada,” said Mr. Kenge, “this is Miss Summerson.” ”

“ You do not know what all around you see in Esther Summerson, how many hearts she touches and awakens, what sacred admiration and what love she wins.”
“O, Mr. Woodcourt,” cried I, “it is a great thing to win love, it is a great thing to win love! ”

“ Margaret looked at him wide-eyed. “Surely that is hardly necessary,” she said.
“It shall be as you wish, if Miss Hanson and the others agree. I will ask Miss Hanson myself. How do you feel about it, Mr. Dane?”
Kenneth looked stonily ahead and refused to answer.
Allport shrugged his shoulders, saying, “Well, if you feel safe, and the doctor here agrees as well, Miss Hunter shall have her way. I don’t imagine you are likely to have any more trouble, at least no trouble that any man of mine could prevent. And now where is Miss Summerson?”
“She has gone,” said The Tundish. ”

“ You can tell them to sprinkle a little vinegar about the place where he sleeps and to keep it moderately cool and him moderately warm. But it is mere impertinence in me to offer any recommendation. Miss Summerson has such a knowledge of detail and such a capacity for the administration of detail that she knows all about it.”
We went back into the hall and explained to Jo what we proposed to do, which Charley explained to him again and which he received with the languid unconcern I had already noticed, wearily looking on at what was done as if it were for somebody else. ”

“ Kenge.
A pause.
“Young Mr. Richard Carstone is present?” said the Lord Chancellor, glancing towards him.
Richard bowed and stepped forward.
“Hum!” said the Lord Chancellor, turning over more leaves.
“Mr. Jarndyce of Bleak House, my lord,” Mr. Kenge observed in a low voice, “if I may venture to remind your lordship, provides a suitable companion for—”
“For Mr. Richard Carstone?” I thought (but I am not quite sure) I heard his lordship say in an equally low voice and with a smile.
“For Miss Ada Clare. This is the young lady. Miss Summerson.” ”

“ He looked very much astonished at it and at Ada’s kissing him, but soon fell fast asleep in my arms, sobbing at longer and longer intervals, until he was quiet. I was so occupied with Peepy that I lost the letter in detail, though I derived such a general impression from it of the momentous importance of Africa, and the utter insignificance of all other places and things, that I felt quite ashamed to have thought so little about it.
“Six o’clock!” said Mrs. Jellyby. “And our dinner hour is nominally (for we dine at all hours) five! Caddy, show Miss Clare and Miss Summerson their rooms. ”

“ I had never been shown my mama's grave. I had never been told where it was. Yet I had never been taught to pray for any relation but my godmother. I had more than once approached this subject of my thoughts with Mrs. Rachael, our only servant, who took my light away when I was in bed (another very good woman, but austere to me) , and she had only said, “Esther, good night!” and gone away and left me.
Although there were seven girls at the neighbouring school where I was a day boarder, and although they called me little Esther Summerson, I knew none of them at home. ”

“ Esther Summerson is a lady, but she is so much besides that her ladyhood does not detach itself from her sainthood and her angelhood, so as to be conspicuous—if, indeed, conspicuousness may be properly predicated of the quality of a lady. It is a conventional saying that sainthood and angelhood include the quality of a lady, but that saying is not true; a lady has a great number of negatives all her own, and also some things positive that are not at all included in goodness. However this may be—and it is not important—Dickens, the genial Dickens, makes savage sport of women. ”

“ Many years before, when a young woman, she had run away from home with him. A little child was born to them whom she named Esther. When she and Hawdon had separated, her sister, to hide from the world the knowledge of the elopement, had told her the baby Esther was dead, had taken the child to another part of the country, given her the name of Summerson, and, calling herself her godmother instead of her aunt, brought her up in ignorance of the truth. ”

“ Ah! But might be? Yes.” After each of these interrogatories, she has inclined her head. “Very good! Now, this Miss Barbary was extremely close—seems to have been extraordinarily close for a female, females being generally (in common life at least) rather given to conversation—and my witness never had an idea whether she possessed a single relative. On one occasion, and only one, she seems to have been confidential to my witness on a single point, and she then told her that the little girl’s real name was not Esther Summerson, but Esther Hawdon.”
“My God!”
Mr. Guppy stares. ”

“ And readers have been taught to praise the work of him who makes none perfect; one does not meet perfect people in trains or at dinner, and this seemed good cause that the novelist should be praised for his moderation; it seemed to imitate the usual measure and moderation of nature.
But Charles Dickens closed with a divine purpose divinely different. He consented to the counsels of perfection. And thus he made Joe Gargery, not a man one might easily find in a forge; and Esther Summerson, not a girl one may easily meet at a dance ”

“ The wind must be coming from the east!"
It happened, finally, that all the other Jarndyce heirs had died except two, a young girl named Ada Clare and a young man named Richard Carstone. These two, who were cousins, were left orphans. The master of Bleak House, therefore, in the goodness of his heart, offered them a home with him, and this they thankfully accepted. Mr. Jarndyce now wished to find a companion for Ada Clare; and this is how Esther Summerson comes into this story. ”

“ He gave us, in his glass of negus, “Better health to our young friend!” and supposed and gaily pursued the case of his being reserved like Whittington to become Lord Mayor of London. In that event, no doubt, he would establish the Jarndyce Institution and the Summerson Almshouses, and a little annual Corporation Pilgrimage to St. Albans. He had no doubt, he said, that our young friend was an excellent boy in his way, but his way was not the Harold Skimpole way; what Harold Skimpole was, Harold Skimpole had found himself, to his considerable surprise, when he first made his own acquaintance ”

“ Reluctantly Summersby joined them. "My name is Calvin Full, sir, and this is Mrs. Full."
Summersby took his hand; it was dry and had a preciseness about its grip that irritated him. "John Summersby."
"I'm a milk inspector. My wife and I were on our honeymoon," said Full. "I work through the southern portions of Vermont; that's in the New York milk shed, you know."
"I didn't know. I'm a forest ranger," said Summersby. Retired, he thought bitterly, pensioned off to die with a rotten heart. They couldn't even let a man die on the job, in the woods. ”

“ Turned out of house, helpless as a baby. You have yourself—master of your wits and your hands. Look at these hands! And all my wits can advise me is, this life isn't worth the keeping."
"Oh, no; not to-day! They don't say that to-day!" exclaimed Summerman, speaking as if he knew. And he ventured further, boldly: "They advise you, go home to your wife and your child; live for them and yourself, and God's honor."
"Wife—child!" repeated Rush; and he blushed when he added; "you read fortunes. Your pardon."
"I saw it in your face," said the organist, quietly. ”

“ Neither was it love that besieged his peace; for, except Miss Lily Prior, old Tom the brewer's daughter, who sat in the same pew at church, Sommerset had never been known to look on one of womankind with attention. Perhaps the carefulness of his education might have done it. Life could not be entirely folded up like a napkin, and put into its proper drawer; and everything annoyed Sommerset Cloudesly. The coming off of his waistcoat button was the destruction of Messina. The world was going to ruin if his horse lost a shoe. ”

“ He must talk; and no one hindered him, for the most of the working force of the village was busy trying to draw water from the frozen pumps of the neighborhood.
"I might have known such a face would raise the devil," muttered he.
"Then, they are both done for!" was Summerman's quick answer. "If you are burnt to death, it's clear you can't be drowned. So, it seems you're a new man altogether. Sir, your wife calls you! But, before you go, pray, take the Good Will doctrine in. A present from me, if you please."
Having said these words, the organist wiped his eyes, and laughed. ”

“ Well, Gentlemen, since the Bridegroom’s absent, I must supply his Place: Come, when I have waited on you to your Pleasure, I will return [To Summerfield.] to you, Sir, we must discourse more of my Bonvile yet.
[Exeunt all but Summerfield.]
Manet Summerfield solus.
Sum. What a trembling Trade’s this, when Conscience, that shou’d be our only Guide, flies and leaves us to our accusing Guilt. A Thief! the very Name and Thought chills my Blood, and makes me tremble like an Ague-fit. A Dog, nay every Bough that moves, puts us in fear of present Apprehension. ”