to the highest, showed me such a bright face of welcome, and spoke so cheerily, and was so happy to do anything for me, that I suppose there never was such a fortunate little creature in the world.
We got into such a chatty state that night, through Ada and my guardian drawing me out to tell them all about Caddy, that I went on prose, prose, prosing, for a length of time. At last I got up to my own room, quite red to think how I had been holding forth; and then I heard a soft tap at my door. So I said, “Come in!” and there came in a pretty little girl, neatly dressed in mourning, who dropped a curtsey.
“If you please, miss,” said the little girl, in a soft voice, “I am Charley.”
“Why, so you are,” said I, stooping down in astonishment, and giving her a kiss. “How glad I am to see you, Charley!”
“If you please, miss,” pursued Charley, in the same soft voice, “I'm your maid.”
“Charley?”
“If you please, miss, I'm a present to you, with Mr. Jarndyce's love.”
I sat down with my hand on Charley's neck, and looked at Charley.
“And O, miss,” says Charley, clapping her hands, with the tears starting down her dimpled cheeks, “Tom's at school, if you please, and learning so good! And little Emma, she's with Mrs. Blinder, miss, a being took such care of! And Tom, he would have been at school—and Emma, she would have been left with Mrs. Blinder—and me, I should have been here—all a deal sooner, miss; only Mr. Jarndyce thought that Tom and Emma and me had better get a little used to parting first, we was so small. Don't cry, if you please, miss!”
“I can't help it, Charley.”
“No, miss, nor I can't help it,” says Charley. “And if you please, miss, Mr. Jarndyce's love, and he thinks you'll like to teach me now and then. And if you please, Tom and Emma and me is to see each other once a month. And I'm so happy and so thankful, miss,” cried Charley with a heaving heart, “and I'll try to be such a good maid!”
“O Charley dear, never forget who did all this!”
“No, miss, I never will. Nor Tom won't. Nor yet Emma. It was all you, miss.”
“I have known nothing of it. It was Mr. Jarndyce, Charley.”
“Yes, miss, but it was all done for the love of you, and that you might be my mistress. If you please, miss, I am a little present with his love, and it was all done for the love of you. Me and Tom was to be sure to remember it.”
Charley dried her eyes, and entered on her functions: going in her matronly little way about and about the room, and folding up everything she could lay her hands upon. Presently, Charley came creeping back to my side, and said:
“O don't cry, if you please, miss.”
And I said again, “I can't help it, Charley.”
And Charley said again, “No, miss, nor I can't help it.” And so, after all, I did cry for joy indeed, and so did she.
