When I had come home from Caddy’s while she was ill, I had often found Ada at work, and she had always put her work away, and I had never known what it was.  Some of it now lay in a drawer near her, which was not quite closed.  I did not open the drawer, but I still rather wondered what the work could he, for it was evidently nothing for herself.

And I noticed as I kissed my dear that she lay with one hand under her pillow so that it was hidden.

How much less amiable I must have been than they thought me, how much less amiable than I thought myself, to be so preoccupied with my own cheerfulness and contentment as to think that it only rested with me to put my dear girl right and set her mind at peace!

But I lay down, self-deceived, in that belief.  And I awoke in it next day to find that there was still the same shade between me and my darling.

CHAPTER LI

Enlightened

When Mr. Woodcourt arrived in London, he went, that very same day, to Mr. Vholes’s in Symond’s Inn.  For he never once, from the moment when I entreated him to be a friend to Richard, neglected or forgot his promise.  He had told me that he accepted the charge as a sacred trust, and he was ever true to it in that spirit.

He found Mr. Vholes in his office and informed Mr. Vholes of his agreement with Richard that he should call there to learn his address.

“Just so, sir,” said Mr. Vholes.  “Mr. C.’s address is not a hundred miles from here, sir, Mr. C.’s address is not a hundred miles from here.  Would you take a seat, sir?”

Mr. Woodcourt thanked Mr. Vholes, but he had no business with him beyond what he had mentioned.

“Just so, sir.  I believe, sir,” said Mr. Vholes, still quietly insisting on the seat by not giving the address, “that you have influence with Mr. C. Indeed I am aware that you have.”

“I was not aware of it myself,” returned Mr. Woodcourt; “but I suppose you know best.”

“Sir,” rejoined Mr. Vholes, self-contained as usual, voice and all, “it is a part of my professional duty to know best.  It is a part of my professional duty to study and to understand a gentleman who confides his interests to me.  In my professional duty I shall not be wanting, sir, if I know it.  I may, with the best intentions, be wanting in it without knowing it; but not if I know it, sir.”

Mr. Woodcourt again mentioned the address.

“Give me leave, sir,” said Mr. Vholes.  “Bear with me for a moment.  Sir, Mr. C. is playing for a considerable stake, and cannot play without—­need I say what?”

“Money, I presume?”

“Sir,” said Mr. Vholes, “to be honest with you (honesty being my golden rule, whether I gain by it or lose, and I find that I generally lose), money is the word.  Now, sir, upon the chances of Mr. C.’s game I express to you no opinion, no opinion.  It might be highly impolitic in Mr. C., after playing so long and so high, to leave off; it might be the reverse; I say nothing.  No, sir,” said Mr. Vholes, bringing his hand flat down upon his desk in a positive manner, “nothing.”