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we went westward。 We went our way through the
T
sunshine and the fresh air； wondering more and more at
the extent of the streets； the brilliancy of the shops； the great
traffic； and the crowds of people whom the pleasanter weather
seemed to have brought out like many…coloured flowers。 By…and…
by we began to leave the wonderful city； and to proceed through
suburbs which； of themselves； would have made a pretty large
town； in my eyes； and at last we got into a real country road again；
with windmills； rickyards； milestones； farmers’ waggons； scents of
old hay； swinging signs and horse troughs： trees； fields； and
hedgerows。 It was delightful to see the green landscape before us；
and the immense metropolis behind； and when a waggon； with a
train of beautiful horses； furnished with red trappings and clear…
sounding bells； came by us with its music； I believe we could all
three have sung to the bells； so cheerful were the influences
around。
“The whole road has been reminding me of my namesake
Whittington；” said Richard； “and that waggon is the finishing
touch。 Halloa！ what’s the matter？”
We had stopped； and the waggon had stopped too。 Its music
changed as the horses came to a stand； and subsided to a gentle
tinkling； except when a horse tossed his head or shook himself；
and sprinkled off a little shower of bell…ringing。
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“Our postilion is looking after the waggoner；” said Richard；
“and the waggoner is coming back after us。 Good day； friend！” The
waggoner was at our coach…door。 “Why； here’s an extraordinary
thing！” added Richard； looking closely at the man。 “He’s got your
name； Ada； in his hat！” He had all our names in his hat。 Tucked
within the band； were three small notes； one； addressed to Ada；
one； to Richard； one； to me。 These the waggoner delivered to each
of us respectively； reading the name aloud first。 In answer to
Richard’s inquiry from whom they came； he briefly answered；
“Master； sir； if you please；” and； putting on his hat again （which
was like a soft bowl）； cracked his whip； reawakened his music； and
went melodiously away。
“Is that Mr Jarndyce’s waggon？” said Richard； calling to our
postboy。
“Yes； sir；” he replied。 “Going to London。”
We opened the notes。 Each was a counterpart of the other； and
contained these words； in a solid； plain hand。
I look forward； my dear； to our meeting easily； and without
constraint on either side。 I therefore have to propose that we meet
as old friends； and take the past for granted。 It will be a relief to
you possibly； and to me certainly； and so my love to you。
John Jarndyce。
I had perhaps less reason to be surprised than either of my
companions； having never yet enjoyed an opportunity of thanking
one who had been my benefactor and sole earthly dependence
through so many years。 I had not considered how I could thank
him； my gratitude lying too deep in my heart for that； but I now
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began to consider how I could meet him without thanking him；
and felt it would be very difficult indeed。
The notes revived； in Richard and Ada； a general impression
that they both had； without quite knowing how they came by it；
that their cousin Jarndyce could never bear acknowledgments for
any kindness he performed； and that； sooner than receive any； he
would resort to the most singular expedients and evasions； or
would even run away。 Ada dimly remembered to have heard her
mother tell； when she was a very little child； that he had once done
her an act of uncommon generosity； and that on her going to his
house to thank him； he happened to see her through a window
coming to the door； and immediately escaped by the back gate；
and was not heard of for three months。 This discourse led to a
great deal more on the same theme； and indeed it lasted us all day；
and we talked of scarcely anything else。 If we did； by any chance；
diverge into another subject； we soon returned to this； and
wondered what the house would be like； and when we should get
there； and whether we should see Mr Jarndyce as soon as we
arrived； or after a delay； and what he would say to us； and what we
should say to him； All of which we wondered about； over and over
again。
The roads were very heavy for the horses； but the pathway was
generally good； so we alighted and walked up all the hills； and
liked it so well that we prolonged our walk on the level ground
when we got to the top。 At Barnet there were other horses waiting
for us； but as they had only just been fed； we had to wait for them
too； and got a long fresh walk over a common and old battle field；
before the carriage came up。 These delays so protracted the
journey； that the short day was spent； and the long night had
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closed in； before we came to St。 Albans； near to which town Bleak
House was； we knew。
By that time we were so anxious and nervous； that even
Richard confessed； as we rattled over the stones of the old street；
to feeling an irrational desire to drive back again。 As to Ada and
me； whom he had wrapped up with great care； the night being
sharp and frosty； we trembled from head to foot。 When we turned
out of the town； round a corner； and Richard told us that the post…
boy； who had for a long time sympathised with our heightened
expectation； was looking back and nodding； we both stood up in
the carriage （Richard holding Ada； lest she should be jolted down）；
and gazed round upon the open country and the starlight night；
for our destination。 There was a light sparkling on the top of a hill
before us； and the driver； pointing to it with his whip and crying
“That’s Bleak House！” put his horses into a canter； and took us
forward at such a rate； uphill though it was； that the wheels sent
the road…drift flying about our heads like spray from a water…mill。
Presently we lost the light； presently saw it； presently lost it；
presently saw it； and turned into an avenue of trees； and cantered
up towards where it was beaming brightly。 It was in a window of
what seemed to be an old…fashioned house； with three peaks in the
roof in front； and a circular sweep leading to the porch。 A bell was
rung as we drew up； and amidst the sound of its deep voice in the
still air； and the distant barking of some dogs；