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Updated: September 27, 2025
Besides, I remembered it had its quarter-days. Here my thoughts made a transition to money matters, and, after the manner of Richard Carstone in "Bleak House," I fell to reckoning up the sums I had saved of late. It is a calculation I make almost every week nowadays. I have lost nothing by any of the Jerry-Building Societies, nothing by any of the great Bank Failures.
"Well!" said Richard Carstone. "THAT'S over! And where do we go next, Miss Summerson?" "Don't you know?" I said. "Not in the least," said he. "And don't YOU know, my love?" I asked Ada. "No!" said she. "Don't you?" "Not at all!" said I.
The young gentleman was her distant cousin, she told me, and his name Richard Carstone. He was a handsome youth with an ingenuous face and a most engaging laugh; and after she had called him up to where we sat, he stood by us, in the light of the fire, talking gaily, like a light-hearted boy. He was very young, not more than nineteen then, if quite so much, but nearly two years older than she was.
"Wasn't such a hound as the rest of his kind, if report says true," answered Carstone. "He was well known here as George Dornton Gentleman George a man capable of better things. But he was before your time, Mr. Bly YOU don't know him." Herbert didn't deem it a felicitous moment to correct his employer, and Mr. Carstone continued: "I have now told you what I thought it was my duty to tell you.
Miss Clare is a figure-head, Miss Summerson in some ways a failure; but Miss Caddy Jellyby is by far the greatest, the most human, and the most really dignified of all the heroines of Dickens. With one or two exceptions, all the effects in this story are of this somewhat quieter kind, though none of them are so subtly successful as Rick Carstone and Caddy.
Richard bowed and stepped forward. "Mr. Jarndyce of Bleak House, my lord," Mr. Kenge observed, "if I may venture to remind your lordship, provides a suitable companion for " "For Mr. Richard Carstone!" I thought I heard his lordship say in a low voice. "For Miss Ada Clare. This is the young lady, Miss Esther Summerson." "Miss Summerson is not related to any party in the cause, I think."
"Are you sure?" asked Herbert involuntarily, as he recalled his mysterious visitor. "I believe the Vigilance Committee has considered it a public duty to deport her and her confederates beyond the State," returned Carstone dryly. Another idea flashed upon Herbert. "And the gambler who advanced the money to save Tappington?" he said breathlessly.
Halting between his frankness and his delicacy, the final thought that in his budding relations with the daughter it might seem a cruel bid for her confidence, or a revenge for their distrust of him, inclined him to silence. But an unforeseen occurrence took the matter from his hands. At noon he was told that Mr. Carstone wished to see him in his private room!
Everything else that there is in this story entered into it through the unconscious or accidental energy of his genius, which broke in at every gap. But it was the tragedy of Richard Carstone that he meant, not the comedy of Harold Skimpole. He could not help being amusing; but he meant to be depressing. Another case might be taken as testing the greater seriousness of this tale.
Carstone says would you come upstairs to Mr. Skimpole's room. He has been took, miss!" "Took?" said I. "Took, miss. Sudden," said the maid.
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