of his head, fastened under his chin; but I was composed again, and not afraid of him. So I told him that I thought I must have been crying, because of my godmother's death, and because of Mrs. Rachael's not being sorry to part with me.
“Con-found Mrs. Rachael!” said the gentleman. “Let her fly away in a high wind on a broomstick!”
I began to be really afraid of him now, and looked at him with the greatest astonishment. But I thought that he had pleasant eyes, although he kept on muttering to himself in an angry manner, and calling Mrs. Rachael names.
After a little while, he opened his outer wrapper, which appeared to me large enough to wrap up the whole coach, and put his arm down into a deep pocket in the side.
“Now, look here!” he said. “In this paper,” which was nicely folded, “is a piece of the best plum-cake that can be got for money—sugar on the outside an inch thick, like fat on mutton chops. Here's a little pie (a gem this is, both for size and quality), made in France. And what do you suppose it's made of? Livers of fat geese. There's a pie! Now let's see you eat 'em.”
“Thank you, sir,” I replied, “thank you very much indeed, but I hope you won't be offended; they are too rich for me.”
“Floored again!” said the gentleman, which I didn't at all understand; and threw them both out of window.
He did not speak to me any more, until he got out of the coach a little way short of Reading, when he advised me to be a good girl, and to be studious; and shook hands with me. I must say I was relieved by his departure. We left him at a milestone. I often walked past it afterwards, and never, for a long time, without thinking of him, and half expecting to meet him. But I never did; and so, as time went on, he passed out of my mind.
When the coach stopped, a very neat lady looked up at the window, and said: “Miss Donny.”
“No, ma'am, Esther Summerson.”
“That is quite right,” said the lady, “Miss Donny.”
I now understood that she introduced herself by that name, and begged Miss Donny's pardon for my mistake, and pointed out my boxes at her request. Under the direction of a very neat maid, they were put outside a very small green carriage; and then Miss Donny, the maid, and I, got inside, and were driven away.
“Everything is ready for you, Esther,” said Miss Donny; “and the scheme of your pursuits has been arranged in exact accordance with the wishes of your guardian, Mr. Jarndyce.”
“Of ——— did you say, ma'am ?”
“Of your guardian, Mr. Jarndyce,” said Miss Donny.
I was so bewildered that Miss Donny thought the cold had been too severe for me, and lent me her smelling-bottle.
“Do you know my—guardian, Mr. Jarndyce, ma'am?” I asked after a good deal of hesitation.
“Not personally, Esther,” said Miss Donny; “merely through his solicitors, Messrs. Kenge and Carboy, of London. A very superior gentleman, Mr. Kenge. Truly eloquent indeed. Some of his periods quite majestic!”
