I suppose he knew by my face what I was about to say, but he caught the hand I had laid upon his arm and touched my own lips with it to prevent me from going on.

“No, Dame Durden!  Two subjects I forbid—­must forbid.  The first is John Jarndyce.  The second, you know what.  Call it madness, and I tell you I can’t help it now, and can’t be sane.  But it is no such thing; it is the one object I have to pursue.  It is a pity I ever was prevailed upon to turn out of my road for any other.  It would be wisdom to abandon it now, after all the time, anxiety, and pains I have bestowed upon it!  Oh, yes, true wisdom.  It would be very agreeable, too, to some people; but I never will.”

He was in that mood in which I thought it best not to increase his determination (if anything could increase it) by opposing him.  I took out Ada’s letter and put it in his hand.

“Am I to read it now?” he asked.

As I told him yes, he laid it on the table, and resting his head upon his hand, began.  He had not read far when he rested his head upon his two hands—­to hide his face from me.  In a little while he rose as if the light were bad and went to the window.  He finished reading it there, with his back towards me, and after he had finished and had folded it up, stood there for some minutes with the letter in his hand.  When he came back to his chair, I saw tears in his eyes.

“Of course, Esther, you know what she says here?” He spoke in a softened voice and kissed the letter as he asked me.

“Yes, Richard.”

“Offers me,” he went on, tapping his foot upon the floor, “the little inheritance she is certain of so soon—­just as little and as much as I have wasted—­and begs and prays me to take it, set myself right with it, and remain in the service.”

“I know your welfare to be the dearest wish of her heart,” said I.  “And, oh, my dear Richard, Ada’s is a noble heart.”

“I am sure it is.  I—­I wish I was dead!”

He went back to the window, and laying his arm across it, leaned his head down on his arm.  It greatly affected me to see him so, but I hoped he might become more yielding, and I remained silent.  My experience was very limited; I was not at all prepared for his rousing himself out of this emotion to a new sense of injury.

“And this is the heart that the same John Jarndyce, who is not otherwise to be mentioned between us, stepped in to estrange from me,” said he indignantly.  “And the dear girl makes me this generous offer from under the same John Jarndyce’s roof, and with the same John Jarndyce’s gracious consent and connivance, I dare say, as a new means of buying me off.”

“Richard!” I cried out, rising hastily.  “I will not hear you say such shameful words!” I was very angry with him indeed, for the first time in my life, but it only lasted a moment.  When I saw his worn young face looking at me as if he were sorry, I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “If you please, my dear Richard, do not speak in such a tone to me.  Consider!”