“Oh, Charley dear, never forget who did all this!”

“No, miss, I never will.  Nor Tom won’t.  Nor yet Emma.  It was all you, miss.”

“I have known nothing of it.  It was Mr. Jarndyce, Charley.”

“Yes, miss, but it was all done for the love of you and that you might be my mistress.  If you please, miss, I am a little present with his love, and it was all done for the love of you.  Me and Tom was to be sure to remember it.”

Charley dried her eyes and entered on her functions, going in her matronly little way about and about the room and folding up everything she could lay her hands upon.  Presently Charley came creeping back to my side and said, “Oh, don’t cry, if you please, miss.”

And I said again, “I can’t help it, Charley.”

And Charley said again, “No, miss, nor I can’t help it.”  And so, after all, I did cry for joy indeed, and so did she.

CHAPTER XXIV

An Appeal Case

As soon as Richard and I had held the conversation of which I have given an account, Richard communicated the state of his mind to Mr. Jarndyce.  I doubt if my guardian were altogether taken by surprise when he received the representation, though it caused him much uneasiness and disappointment.  He and Richard were often closeted together, late at night and early in the morning, and passed whole days in London, and had innumerable appointments with Mr. Kenge, and laboured through a quantity of disagreeable business.  While they were thus employed, my guardian, though he underwent considerable inconvenience from the state of the wind and rubbed his head so constantly that not a single hair upon it ever rested in its right place, was as genial with Ada and me as at any other time, but maintained a steady reserve on these matters.  And as our utmost endeavours could only elicit from Richard himself sweeping assurances that everything was going on capitally and that it really was all right at last, our anxiety was not much relieved by him.

We learnt, however, as the time went on, that a new application was made to the Lord Chancellor on Richard’s behalf as an infant and a ward, and I don’t know what, and that there was a quantity of talking, and that the Lord Chancellor described him in open court as a vexatious and capricious infant, and that the matter was adjourned and readjourned, and referred, and reported on, and petitioned about until Richard began to doubt (as he told us) whether, if he entered the army at all, it would not be as a veteran of seventy or eighty years of age.  At last an appointment was made for him to see the Lord Chancellor again in his private room, and there the Lord Chancellor very seriously reproved him for trifling with time and not knowing his mind—­“a pretty good joke, I think,” said Richard, “from that quarter!”—­and at last it was settled that his application should be granted.  His name was entered at the Horse Guards as an applicant for an ensign’s commission; the purchase-money was deposited at an agent’s; and Richard, in his usual characteristic way, plunged into a violent course of military study and got up at five o’clock every morning to practise the broadsword exercise.