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be nothing more。”
The client； with his dejection insensibly relieved； and his vague
hopes rekindled； takes pen and ink and writes the draft： not
without perplexed consideration and calculation of the date it may
bear； implying scant effects in the agent’s hands。 All the while；
Vholes； buttoned up in body and mind； looks at him attentively。 All
the while； Vholes’s official cat watches the mouse’s hole。
Lastly； the client； shaking hands； beseeches Mr Vholes； for
Heaven’s sake and Earth’s sake； to do his utmost； to “pull him
through” the Court of Chancery。 Mr Vholes； who never gives
hopes； lays his palm upon the client’s shoulder； and answers with
a smile； “Always here； sir。 Personally； or by letter； you will always
find me here； sir； with my shoulder to the wheel。” Thus they part；
and Vholes； left alone； employs himself in carrying sundry little
matters out of his Diary into his draft bill book； for the ultimate
behoof of his three daughters。 So might an industrious fox； or
bear； make up his account of chickens or stray travellers with an
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eye to his cubs； not to disparage by that word the three raw…
visaged； lank； and buttoned…up maidens； who dwell with the
parent Vholes in an earthy cottage situated in a damp garden at
Kennington。
Richard； emerging from the heavy shade of Symond’s Inn into
the sunshine of Chancery Lane—for there happens to be sunshine
there today—walks thoughtfully on； and turns into Lincoln’s Inn；
and passes under the shadow of the Lincoln’s Inn trees。 On many
such loungers have the speckled shadows of those trees often
fallen； on the like bent head； the bitten nail； the lowering eye； the
lingering step； the purposeless and dreamy air； the good
consuming and consumed； the life turned sour。 This lounger is not
shabby yet； but that may come。 Chancery； which knows no
wisdom but in Precedent； is very rich in such Precedents； and why
should one be different from ten thousand？
Yet the time is so short since his depreciation began； that as he
saunters away； reluctant to leave the spot for some long months
together； though he hates it； Richard himself may feel his own
case as if it were a startling one。 While his heart is heavy with
corroding care； suspense； distrust； and doubt； it may have room
for some sorrowful wonder when he recalls how different his first
visit there； how different he； how different all the colours of his
mind。 But injustice breeds injustice； the fighting with shadows
and being defeated by them； necessitates the setting up of
substances to combat； from the impalpable suit which no man
alive can understand； the time for that being long gone by； it has
become a gloomy relief to turn to the palpable figure of the friend
who would have saved him from this ruin； and make him his
enemy。 Richard has told Vholes the truth。 Is he in a hardened or a
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softened mood； he still lays his injuries equally at that door； he was
thwarted； in that quarter； of a set purpose； and that purpose could
only originate in the one subject that is resolving his existence into
itself： besides； it is a justification to him in his own eyes to have an
embodied antagonist and oppressor。
Is Richard a monster in all this—or would Chancery be found
rich in such Precedents too； if they could be got for citation from
the Recording Angel？
Two pairs of eyes not unused to such people look after him； as；
biting his nails and brooding； he crosses the square； and is
swallowed up by the shadow of the southern gateway。 Mr Guppy
and Mr Weevle are the possessors of those eyes； and they have
been leaning in conversation against the low stone parapet under
the trees。 He passed close by them； seeing nothing but the ground。
“William；” says Mr Weevle； adjusting his whiskers； “there’s
combustion going on there！ It’s not a case of Spontaneous； but it’s
smouldering combustion it is。”
“Ah！” says Mr Guppy； “he wouldn’t keep out of Jarndyce； and I
suppose he’s over head and ears in debt。 I never knew much of
him。 He was as high as the Monument when he was on trial at our
place。 A good riddance to me； whether as clerk or client！ Well；
Tony； that as I was mentioning is what they’re up to。”
Mr Guppy； refolding his arms； resettles himself against the
parapet； as resuming a conversation of interest。
“They are still up to it； sir；” says Mr Guppy； “still taking stock；
still examining papers； still going over the heaps and heaps of
rubbish。 At this rate they’ll be at it these seven years。”
“And Small is helping？”
“Small left us at a week’s notice。 Told Kenge； his grandfather’s
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business was too much for the old gentleman； and he could better
himself by undertaking it。 There had been a coolness between
myself and Small on account of his being so close。 But he said you
and I began it； and as he had me there—for we did—I put our
acquaintance on the old footing。 That’s how I come to know what
they’re up to。”
“You haven’t looked in at all？”
“Tony；” says Mr Guppy； a little disconcerted； “to be unreserved
with you； I don’t greatly relish the house； except in your company；
and therefore I have not； and therefore I proposed this little
appointment for our fetching away your things。 There goes the
hour by the clock！ Tony！” Mr Guppy becomes mysteriously and
tenderly eloquent； “it is necessary that I should impress upon your
mind once more； that circumstances over which I have no control；
have made a melancholy alteration in my most cherished plans；
and in that unrequited image which I formerly mentioned to you
as a friend。 That image is shattered； and that idol is laid low。 My
only wish now； in connection with the objects which I had an idea
of carrying out in the court； with your aid as a friend； is to let ’em
alone and bury ’em in oblivion。 Do you think it possible； do you
think it at all likely （I put it to you； Tony； as a friend）； from your
knowledge of that capricious and deep old character who fell a
prey to the—Spontaneous element； do you； Tony； think it at all
likely that； on second thoughts； he put those letters away
anywhere after you saw him alive； and that they were not
destroyed that night？”
Mr Weevle reflects for some time。 Shakes his head。 Decidedly
thinks not。
“Tony；” says Mr Guppy； as t