“Not quite so far, I hope?” said Mr. Jarndyce.

“By my life and honour, yes!” cried the visitor.  “I wouldn’t be guilty of the audacious insolence of keeping a lady of the house waiting all this time for any earthly consideration.  I would infinitely rather destroy myself—­infinitely rather!”

Talking thus, they went upstairs, and presently we heard him in his bedroom thundering “Ha, ha, ha!” and again “Ha, ha, ha!” until the flattest echo in the neighbourhood seemed to catch the contagion and to laugh as enjoyingly as he did or as we did when we heard him laugh.

We all conceived a prepossession in his favour, for there was a sterling quality in this laugh, and in his vigorous, healthy voice, and in the roundness and fullness with which he uttered every word he spoke, and in the very fury of his superlatives, which seemed to go off like blank cannons and hurt nothing.  But we were hardly prepared to have it so confirmed by his appearance when Mr. Jarndyce presented him.  He was not only a very handsome old gentleman—­upright and stalwart as he had been described to us—­ with a massive grey head, a fine composure of face when silent, a figure that might have become corpulent but for his being so continually in earnest that he gave it no rest, and a chin that might have subsided into a double chin but for the vehement emphasis in which it was constantly required to assist; but he was such a true gentleman in his manner, so chivalrously polite, his face was lighted by a smile of so much sweetness and tenderness, and it seemed so plain that he had nothing to hide, but showed himself exactly as he was—­incapable, as Richard said, of anything on a limited scale, and firing away with those blank great guns because he carried no small arms whatever—­that really I could not help looking at him with equal pleasure as he sat at dinner, whether he smilingly conversed with Ada and me, or was led by Mr. Jarndyce into some great volley of superlatives, or threw up his head like a bloodhound and gave out that tremendous “Ha, ha, ha!”

“You have brought your bird with you, I suppose?” said Mr. Jarndyce.

“By heaven, he is the most astonishing bird in Europe!” replied the other.  “He is the most wonderful creature!  I wouldn’t take ten thousand guineas for that bird.  I have left an annuity for his sole support in case he should outlive me.  He is, in sense and attachment, a phenomenon.  And his father before him was one of the most astonishing birds that ever lived!”

The subject of this laudation was a very little canary, who was so tame that he was brought down by Mr. Boythorn’s man, on his forefinger, and after taking a gentle flight round the room, alighted on his master’s head.  To hear Mr. Boythorn presently expressing the most implacable and passionate sentiments, with this fragile mite of a creature quietly perched on his forehead, was to have a good illustration of his character, I thought.