Thus, vacation succeeded term, and term succeeded vacation.  We sometimes heard of Jarndyce and Jarndyce as being in the paper or out of the paper, or as being to be mentioned, or as being to be spoken to; and it came on, and it went off.  Richard, who was now in a professor’s house in London, was able to be with us less frequently than before; my guardian still maintained the same reserve; and so time passed until the commission was obtained and Richard received directions with it to join a regiment in Ireland.

He arrived post-haste with the intelligence one evening, and had a long conference with my guardian.  Upwards of an hour elapsed before my guardian put his head into the room where Ada and I were sitting and said, “Come in, my dears!” We went in and found Richard, whom we had last seen in high spirits, leaning on the chimney-piece looking mortified and angry.

“Rick and I, Ada,” said Mr. Jarndyce, “are not quite of one mind.  Come, come, Rick, put a brighter face upon it!”

“You are very hard with me, sir,” said Richard.  “The harder because you have been so considerate to me in all other respects and have done me kindnesses that I can never acknowledge.  I never could have been set right without you, sir.”

“Well, well!” said Mr. Jarndyce.  “I want to set you more right yet.  I want to set you more right with yourself.”

“I hope you will excuse my saying, sir,” returned Richard in a fiery way, but yet respectfully, “that I think I am the best judge about myself.”

“I hope you will excuse my saying, my dear Rick,” observed Mr. Jarndyce with the sweetest cheerfulness and good humour, “that it’s quite natural in you to think so, but I don’t think so.  I must do my duty, Rick, or you could never care for me in cool blood; and I hope you will always care for me, cool and hot.”

Ada had turned so pale that he made her sit down in his reading-chair and sat beside her.

“It’s nothing, my dear,” he said, “it’s nothing.  Rick and I have only had a friendly difference, which we must state to you, for you are the theme.  Now you are afraid of what’s coming.”

“I am not indeed, cousin John,” replied Ada with a smile, “if it is to come from you.”

“Thank you, my dear.  Do you give me a minute’s calm attention, without looking at Rick.  And, little woman, do you likewise.  My dear girl,” putting his hand on hers as it lay on the side of the easy-chair, “you recollect the talk we had, we four when the little woman told me of a little love affair?”

“It is not likely that either Richard or I can ever forget your kindness that day, cousin John.”

“I can never forget it,” said Richard.

“And I can never forget it,” said Ada.

“So much the easier what I have to say, and so much the easier for us to agree,” returned my guardian, his face irradiated by the gentleness and honour of his heart.  “Ada, my bird, you should know that Rick has now chosen his profession for the last time.  All that he has of certainty will be expended when he is fully equipped.  He has exhausted his resources and is bound henceforward to the tree he has planted.”