“Oh, yes, it has, my dear,” he said laughingly.  “It has made the south wind easterly, I don’t know how often.  Rick mistrusts and suspects me—­goes to lawyers, and is taught to mistrust and suspect me.  Hears I have conflicting interests, claims clashing against his and what not.  Whereas, heaven knows that if I could get out of the mountains of wiglomeration on which my unfortunate name has been so long bestowed (which I can’t) or could level them by the extinction of my own original right (which I can’t either, and no human power ever can, anyhow, I believe, to such a pass have we got), I would do it this hour.  I would rather restore to poor Rick his proper nature than be endowed with all the money that dead suitors, broken, heart and soul, upon the wheel of Chancery, have left unclaimed with the Accountant-General—­and that’s money enough, my dear, to be cast into a pyramid, in memory of Chancery’s transcendent wickedness.”

“Is it possible, guardian,” I asked, amazed, “that Richard can be suspicious of you?”

“Ah, my love, my love,” he said, “it is in the subtle poison of such abuses to breed such diseases.  His blood is infected, and objects lose their natural aspects in his sight.  It is not his fault.”

“But it is a terrible misfortune, guardian.”

“It is a terrible misfortune, little woman, to be ever drawn within the influences of Jarndyce and Jarndyce.  I know none greater.  By little and little he has been induced to trust in that rotten reed, and it communicates some portion of its rottenness to everything around him.  But again I say with all my soul, we must be patient with poor Rick and not blame him.  What a troop of fine fresh hearts like his have I seen in my time turned by the same means!”

I could not help expressing something of my wonder and regret that his benevolent, disinterested intentions had prospered so little.

“We must not say so, Dame Durden,” he cheerfully replied; “Ada is the happier, I hope, and that is much.  I did think that I and both these young creatures might be friends instead of distrustful foes and that we might so far counter-act the suit and prove too strong for it.  But it was too much to expect.  Jarndyce and Jarndyce was the curtain of Rick’s cradle.”

“But, guardian, may we not hope that a little experience will teach him what a false and wretched thing it is?”

“We will hope so, my Esther,” said Mr. Jarndyce, “and that it may not teach him so too late.  In any case we must not be hard on him.  There are not many grown and matured men living while we speak, good men too, who if they were thrown into this same court as suitors would not be vitally changed and depreciated within three years—­within two—­within one.  How can we stand amazed at poor Rick?  A young man so unfortunate,” here he fell into a lower tone, as if he were thinking aloud, “cannot at first believe (who could?) that Chancery is what it is.  He looks to it, flushed and fitfully, to do something with his interests and bring them to some settlement.  It procrastinates, disappoints, tries, tortures him; wears out his sanguine hopes and patience, thread by thread; but he still looks to it, and hankers after it, and finds his whole world treacherous and hollow.  Well, well, well!  Enough of this, my dear!”