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house； where a number of men were flocking about the door。
Among them； and prominent in some dispute； was the father of
the little child。 At a short distance； we passed the young man and
the dog； in congenial company。 The sister was standing laughing
and talking with some other young women； at the corner of the
row of cottages； but she seemed ashamed； and turned away as we
went by。
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We left our escort within sight of the brickmaker’s dwelling；
and proceeded by ourselves。 When we came to the door； we found
the woman who had brought such consolation with her； standing
there； looking anxiously out。
“It’s you； young ladies； is it？” she said in a whisper。 “I’m a
watching for my master。 My heart’s in my mouth。 If he was to
catch me away from home； he’d pretty near murder me。”
“Do you mean your husband？” said I。
“Yes； miss； my master。 Jenny’s asleep； quite worn out。 She’s
scarcely had the child off her lap； poor thing； these seven days and
nights； except when I’ve been able to take it for a minute or two。”
As she gave way for us； she went softly in； and put what we had
brought； near the miserable bed on which the mother slept。 No
effort had been made to clean the room—it seemed in its nature
almost hopeless of being clean： but the small waxen form； from
which so much solemnity diffused itself； had been composed
afresh； and washed； and neatly dressed in some fragments of
white linen； and on my handkerchief； which still covered the poor
baby； a little bunch of sweet herbs had been laid by the same
rough scarred hands； so lightly； so tenderly！
“May heaven reward you！” we said to her。 “You are a good
woman。”
“Me； young ladies？” she returned with surprise。 “Hush！ Jenny；
Jenny！”
The mother had moaned in her sleep； and moved。 The sound of
the familiar voice seemed to calm her again。 She was quiet once
more。
How little I thought； when I raised my handkerchief to look
upon the tiny sleeper underneath； and seemed to see a halo shine
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around the child through Ada’s drooping hair as her pity bent her
head—how little I thought in whose unquiet bosom that
handkerchief would come to lie； after covering the motionless and
peaceful breast！ I only thought that perhaps the Angel of the child
might not be all unconscious of the woman who replaced it with so
compassionate a hand； not all unconscious of her presently； when
we had taken leave； and left her at the door by turns looking； and
listening in terror for herself； and saying in her old soothing
manner； “Jenny； Jenny！”
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Chapter 9
Signs And Tokens。
don’t how it is； I seem to be always writing about myself。 I
mean all the time to write about other people； and I try to
I
think about myself as little as possible； and I am sure； when I
find myself coming into the story again； I am really vexed and say；
“Dear； dear； you tiresome little creature； I wish you wouldn’t！” but
it is all of no use。 I hope any one who may read what I write； will
understand that if these pages contain a great deal about me； I can
only suppose it must be because I have really something to do with
them； and can’t be kept out。
My darling and I read together； and worked； and practised； and
found so much employment for our time； that the winter days flew
by us like bright…winged birds。 Generally in the afternoons； and
always in the evenings； Richard gave us his company。 Although he
was one of the most restless creatures in the world； he certainly
was very fond of our society。
He was very； very； very fond of Ada。 I mean it； and I had better
say it at once。 I had never seen any young people falling in love
before； but I found them out quite soon。 I could not say so； of
course； or show that I knew anything about it。 On the contrary； I
was so demure； and used to seem so unconscious； that sometimes I
considered within myself while I was sitting at work； whether I
was not growing quite deceitful。
But there was no help for it。 All I had to do was to be quiet； and
I was as quiet as a mouse。 They were as quiet as mice； too； so far
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as any words were concerned； but the innocent manner in which
they relied more and more upon me； as they took more and more
to one another； was so charming； that I had great difficulty in not
showing how it interested me。
“Our dear little old woman is such a capital old woman；”
Richard would say； coming up to meet me in the garden early；
with his pleasant laugh and perhaps the least tinge of a blush；
“that I can’t get on without her。 Before I begin my harum…scarum
day—grinding away at those books and instruments； and then
galloping up hill and down dale； all the country round； like a
highwayman—it does me so much good to come and have a steady
walk with our comfortable friend； that here I am again。”
“You know； Dame Durden； dear；” Ada would say at night； with
her head upon my shoulder； and the firelight shining in her
thoughtful eyes； “I don’t wont to talk when we come upstairs here。
Only to sit a little while； thinking； with your dear face for
company； and to hear the wind； and remember the poor sailors at
sea—”
Ah！ Perhaps Richard was going to be a sailor。 We had talked it
over very often； now； and there was some talk of gratifying the
inclination of his childhood for the sea。 Mr Jarndyce had written
to a relation of the family； a great Sir Leicester Dedlock； for his
interest in Richard’s favour； generally； and Sir Leicester had
replied in a gracious manner； “that he would be happy to advance
the prospects of the young gentleman if it should ever prove to be
within his power； which was not at all probable—and that my
Lady sent her compliments to the young gentleman （to whom she
perfectly remembered that she was allied by remote
consanguinity）； and trusted that he would ever do his duty in any
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honourable profession to which he might devote himself。”
“So I apprehend it’s pretty clear；” said Richard to me； “that I
sh