Bleak House - страница 17

A young gentleman who had inked himself by accident, addressed me from the pavement, and said, 'I am from Kenge and Carboy's, miss, of Lincoln's Inn.'

'If you please, sir,' said I.

He was very obliging; and as he handed me into a fly, after superintending the removal of my boxes, I asked him whether there was a great fire anywhere? For the streets were so full of dense brown smoke that scarcely anything was to be seen.

'O dear no, miss,' he said. 'This is a London particular.'

I had never heard of such a thing.

'A fog, miss,' said the young gentleman.

'O indeed!' said I.

We drove slowly through the dirtiest and darkest streets that ever were seen in the world (I thought), and in such a distracting state of confusion that I wondered how the people kept their senses, until we passed into sudden quietude under an old gateway, and drove on through a silent square until we came to an odd nook in a corner, where there was an entrance up a steep, broad flight of stairs, like an entrance to a church. And there really was a churchyard, outside under some cloisters, for I saw the gravestones from the staircase window.

This was Kenge and Carboy's. The young gentleman showed me through an outer office into Mr. Kenge's room – there was no one in it – and politely put an arm-chair for me by the fire. He then called my attention to a little looking-glass, hanging from a nail on one side of the chimney-piece.

'In case you should wish to look at yourself, miss, after the journey, as you're going before the Chancellor. Not that it's requisite, I am sure,' said the young gentleman civilly.

'Going before the Chancellor?' I said, startled for a moment.

'Only a matter of form, miss,' returned the young gentleman. 'Mr. Kenge is in Court now. He left his compliments, and would you partake of some refreshment;' there were biscuits and a decanter of wine on a small table; 'and look over the paper;' which the young gentleman gave me as he spoke. He then stirred the fire, and left me.

Everything was so strange – the stranger from its being night in the day-time, the candles burning with a white flame, and looking raw and cold – that I read the words in the newspaper without knowing what they meant, and found myself reading the same words repeatedly. As it was of no use going on in that way, I put the paper down, took a peep at my bonnet in the glass to see if it was neat, and looked at the room which was not half lighted, and at the shabby dusty tables, and at the piles of writings, and at a bookcase full of the most inexpressive-looking books that ever had anything to say for themselves. Then I went on, thinking, thinking, thinking; and the fire went on, burning, burning, burning; and the candles went on flickering and guttering, and there were no snuffers – until the young gentleman by-and-by brought a very dirty pair; for two hours.

At last Mr. Kenge came. He was not altered; but he was surprised to see how altered I was; and appeared quite pleased. 'As you are going to be the companion of the young lady who is now in the Chancellor's private room, Miss Summerson,' he said, 'we thought it well that you should be in attendance also. You will not be discomposed by the Lord Chancellor, I dare say?'

'No, sir,' I said, 'I don't think I shall.' Really not seeing, on consideration, why I should be.