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- Чарльз Диккенс
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Where
two
or
three
marked
ones
go
,
all
the
rest
follow
.
Keep
those
two
or
three
in
your
eye
,
Mr
.
Jones
,
and
you
have
the
flock
.
"
So
,
likewise
,
Sheen
and
Gloss
to
THEIR
Jones
,
in
reference
to
knowing
where
to
have
the
fashionable
people
and
how
to
bring
what
they
(
Sheen
and
Gloss
)
choose
into
fashion
.
On
similar
unerring
principles
,
Mr
.
Sladdery
the
librarian
,
and
indeed
the
great
farmer
of
gorgeous
sheep
,
admits
this
very
day
,
"
Why
yes
,
sir
,
there
certainly
ARE
reports
concerning
Lady
Dedlock
,
very
current
indeed
among
my
high
connexion
,
sir
.
You
see
,
my
high
connexion
must
talk
about
something
,
sir
;
and
it
’
s
only
to
get
a
subject
into
vogue
with
one
or
two
ladies
I
could
name
to
make
it
go
down
with
the
whole
.
Just
what
I
should
have
done
with
those
ladies
,
sir
,
in
the
case
of
any
novelty
you
had
left
to
me
to
bring
in
,
they
have
done
of
themselves
in
this
case
through
knowing
Lady
Dedlock
and
being
perhaps
a
little
innocently
jealous
of
her
too
,
sir
.
You
’
ll
find
,
sir
,
that
this
topic
will
be
very
popular
among
my
high
connexion
.
If
it
had
been
a
speculation
,
sir
,
it
would
have
brought
money
.
And
when
I
say
so
,
you
may
trust
to
my
being
right
,
sir
,
for
I
have
made
it
my
business
to
study
my
high
connexion
and
to
be
able
to
wind
it
up
like
a
clock
,
sir
.
"
Thus
rumour
thrives
in
the
capital
,
and
will
not
go
down
into
Lincolnshire
.
By
half
-
past
five
,
post
meridian
,
Horse
Guards
’
time
,
it
has
even
elicited
a
new
remark
from
the
Honourable
Mr
.
Stables
,
which
bids
fair
to
outshine
the
old
one
,
on
which
he
has
so
long
rested
his
colloquial
reputation
.
This
sparkling
sally
is
to
the
effect
that
although
he
always
knew
she
was
the
best
-
groomed
woman
in
the
stud
,
he
had
no
idea
she
was
a
bolter
.
It
is
immensely
received
in
turf
-
circles
.
At
feasts
and
festivals
also
,
in
firmaments
she
has
often
graced
,
and
among
constellations
she
outshone
but
yesterday
,
she
is
still
the
prevalent
subject
.
What
is
it
?
Who
is
it
?
When
was
it
?
Where
was
it
?
How
was
it
?
She
is
discussed
by
her
dear
friends
with
all
the
genteelest
slang
in
vogue
,
with
the
last
new
word
,
the
last
new
manner
,
the
last
new
drawl
,
and
the
perfection
of
polite
indifference
.
A
remarkable
feature
of
the
theme
is
that
it
is
found
to
be
so
inspiring
that
several
people
come
out
upon
it
who
never
came
out
before
—
positively
say
things
!
William
Buffy
carries
one
of
these
smartnesses
from
the
place
where
he
dines
down
to
the
House
,
where
the
Whip
for
his
party
hands
it
about
with
his
snuff
-
box
to
keep
men
together
who
want
to
be
off
,
with
such
effect
that
the
Speaker
(
who
has
had
it
privately
insinuated
into
his
own
ear
under
the
corner
of
his
wig
)
cries
,
"
Order
at
the
bar
!
"
three
times
without
making
an
impression
.
And
not
the
least
amazing
circumstance
connected
with
her
being
vaguely
the
town
talk
is
that
people
hovering
on
the
confines
of
Mr
.
Sladdery
’
s
high
connexion
,
people
who
know
nothing
and
ever
did
know
nothing
about
her
,
think
it
essential
to
their
reputation
to
pretend
that
she
is
their
topic
too
,
and
to
retail
her
at
second
-
hand
with
the
last
new
word
and
the
last
new
manner
,
and
the
last
new
drawl
,
and
the
last
new
polite
indifference
,
and
all
the
rest
of
it
,
all
at
second
-
hand
but
considered
equal
to
new
in
inferior
systems
and
to
fainter
stars
.
If
there
be
any
man
of
letters
,
art
,
or
science
among
these
little
dealers
,
how
noble
in
him
to
support
the
feeble
sisters
on
such
majestic
crutches
!
So
goes
the
wintry
day
outside
the
Dedlock
mansion
.
How
within
it
?
Sir
Leicester
,
lying
in
his
bed
,
can
speak
a
little
,
though
with
difficulty
and
indistinctness
.
He
is
enjoined
to
silence
and
to
rest
,
and
they
have
given
him
some
opiate
to
lull
his
pain
,
for
his
old
enemy
is
very
hard
with
him
.
He
is
never
asleep
,
though
sometimes
he
seems
to
fall
into
a
dull
waking
doze
.
He
caused
his
bedstead
to
be
moved
out
nearer
to
the
window
when
he
heard
it
was
such
inclement
weather
,
and
his
head
to
be
so
adjusted
that
he
could
see
the
driving
snow
and
sleet
.
He
watches
it
as
it
falls
,
throughout
the
whole
wintry
day
.
Upon
the
least
noise
in
the
house
,
which
is
kept
hushed
,
his
hand
is
at
the
pencil
.
The
old
housekeeper
,
sitting
by
him
,
knows
what
he
would
write
and
whispers
,
"
No
,
he
has
not
come
back
yet
,
Sir
Leicester
.
It
was
late
last
night
when
he
went
.
He
has
been
but
a
little
time
gone
yet
.
"
He
withdraws
his
hand
and
falls
to
looking
at
the
sleet
and
snow
again
until
they
seem
,
by
being
long
looked
at
,
to
fall
so
thick
and
fast
that
he
is
obliged
to
close
his
eyes
for
a
minute
on
the
giddy
whirl
of
white
flakes
and
icy
blots
.
He
began
to
look
at
them
as
soon
as
it
was
light
.
The
day
is
not
yet
far
spent
when
he
conceives
it
to
be
necessary
that
her
rooms
should
be
prepared
for
her
.
It
is
very
cold
and
wet
.
Let
there
be
good
fires
.
Let
them
know
that
she
is
expected
.
Please
see
to
it
yourself
.
He
writes
to
this
purpose
on
his
slate
,
and
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
with
a
heavy
heart
obeys
.
"
For
I
dread
,
George
,
"
the
old
lady
says
to
her
son
,
who
waits
below
to
keep
her
company
when
she
has
a
little
leisure
,
"
I
dread
,
my
dear
,
that
my
Lady
will
never
more
set
foot
within
these
walls
.
"
"
That
’
s
a
bad
presentiment
,
mother
.
"
"
Nor
yet
within
the
walls
of
Chesney
Wold
,
my
dear
.
"
"
That
’
s
worse
.
But
why
,
mother
?
"
"
When
I
saw
my
Lady
yesterday
,
George
,
she
looked
to
me
—
and
I
may
say
at
me
too
—
as
if
the
step
on
the
Ghost
’
s
Walk
had
almost
walked
her
down
.
"
"
Come
,
come
!
You
alarm
yourself
with
old
-
story
fears
,
mother
.
"
"
No
I
don
’
t
,
my
dear
.
No
I
don
’
t
.
It
’
s
going
on
for
sixty
year
that
I
have
been
in
this
family
,
and
I
never
had
any
fears
for
it
before
.
But
it
’
s
breaking
up
,
my
dear
;
the
great
old
Dedlock
family
is
breaking
up
.
"
"
I
hope
not
,
mother
.
"
"
I
am
thankful
I
have
lived
long
enough
to
be
with
Sir
Leicester
in
this
illness
and
trouble
,
for
I
know
I
am
not
too
old
nor
too
useless
to
be
a
welcomer
sight
to
him
than
anybody
else
in
my
place
would
be
.
But
the
step
on
the
Ghost
’
s
Walk
will
walk
my
Lady
down
,
George
;
it
has
been
many
a
day
behind
her
,
and
now
it
will
pass
her
and
go
on
.
"
"
Well
,
mother
dear
,
I
say
again
,
I
hope
not
.
"
"
Ah
,
so
do
I
,
George
,
"
the
old
lady
returns
,
shaking
her
head
and
parting
her
folded
hands
.
"
But
if
my
fears
come
true
,
and
he
has
to
know
it
,
who
will
tell
him
!
"
"
Are
these
her
rooms
?
"
"
These
are
my
Lady
’
s
rooms
,
just
as
she
left
them
.
"
"
Why
,
now
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
glancing
round
him
and
speaking
in
a
lower
voice
,
"
I
begin
to
understand
how
you
come
to
think
as
you
do
think
,
mother
.
Rooms
get
an
awful
look
about
them
when
they
are
fitted
up
,
like
these
,
for
one
person
you
are
used
to
see
in
them
,
and
that
person
is
away
under
any
shadow
,
let
alone
being
God
knows
where
.
"
He
is
not
far
out
.
As
all
partings
foreshadow
the
great
final
one
,
so
,
empty
rooms
,
bereft
of
a
familiar
presence
,
mournfully
whisper
what
your
room
and
what
mine
must
one
day
be
.
My
Lady
’
s
state
has
a
hollow
look
,
thus
gloomy
and
abandoned
;
and
in
the
inner
apartment
,
where
Mr
.
Bucket
last
night
made
his
secret
perquisition
,
the
traces
of
her
dresses
and
her
ornaments
,
even
the
mirrors
accustomed
to
reflect
them
when
they
were
a
portion
of
herself
,
have
a
desolate
and
vacant
air
.
Dark
and
cold
as
the
wintry
day
is
,
it
is
darker
and
colder
in
these
deserted
chambers
than
in
many
a
hut
that
will
barely
exclude
the
weather
;
and
though
the
servants
heap
fires
in
the
grates
and
set
the
couches
and
the
chairs
within
the
warm
glass
screens
that
let
their
ruddy
light
shoot
through
to
the
furthest
corners
,
there
is
a
heavy
cloud
upon
the
rooms
which
no
light
will
dispel
.
The
old
housekeeper
and
her
son
remain
until
the
preparations
are
complete
,
and
then
she
returns
upstairs
.
Volumnia
has
taken
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
’
s
place
in
the
meantime
,
though
pearl
necklaces
and
rouge
pots
,
however
calculated
to
embellish
Bath
,
are
but
indifferent
comforts
to
the
invalid
under
present
circumstances
.
Volumnia
,
not
being
supposed
to
know
(
and
indeed
not
knowing
)
what
is
the
matter
,
has
found
it
a
ticklish
task
to
offer
appropriate
observations
and
consequently
has
supplied
their
place
with
distracting
smoothings
of
the
bed
-
linen
,
elaborate
locomotion
on
tiptoe
,
vigilant
peeping
at
her
kinsman
’
s
eyes
,
and
one
exasperating
whisper
to
herself
of
,
"
He
is
asleep
.
"
In
disproof
of
which
superfluous
remark
Sir
Leicester
has
indignantly
written
on
the
slate
,
"
I
am
not
.
"
Yielding
,
therefore
,
the
chair
at
the
bedside
to
the
quaint
old
housekeeper
,
Volumnia
sits
at
a
table
a
little
removed
,
sympathetically
sighing
.
Sir
Leicester
watches
the
sleet
and
snow
and
listens
for
the
returning
steps
that
he
expects
.
In
the
ears
of
his
old
servant
,
looking
as
if
she
had
stepped
out
of
an
old
picture
-
frame
to
attend
a
summoned
Dedlock
to
another
world
,
the
silence
is
fraught
with
echoes
of
her
own
words
,
"
Who
will
tell
him
!
"
He
has
been
under
his
valet
’
s
hands
this
morning
to
be
made
presentable
and
is
as
well
got
up
as
the
circumstances
will
allow
.
He
is
propped
with
pillows
,
his
grey
hair
is
brushed
in
its
usual
manner
,
his
linen
is
arranged
to
a
nicety
,
and
he
is
wrapped
in
a
responsible
dressing
-
gown
.
His
eye
-
glass
and
his
watch
are
ready
to
his
hand
.
It
is
necessary
—
less
to
his
own
dignity
now
perhaps
than
for
her
sake
—
that
he
should
be
seen
as
little
disturbed
and
as
much
himself
as
may
be
.
Women
will
talk
,
and
Volumnia
,
though
a
Dedlock
,
is
no
exceptional
case
.
He
keeps
her
here
,
there
is
little
doubt
,
to
prevent
her
talking
somewhere
else
.
He
is
very
ill
,
but
he
makes
his
present
stand
against
distress
of
mind
and
body
most
courageously
.
The
fair
Volumnia
,
being
one
of
those
sprightly
girls
who
cannot
long
continue
silent
without
imminent
peril
of
seizure
by
the
dragon
Boredom
,
soon
indicates
the
approach
of
that
monster
with
a
series
of
undisguisable
yawns
.
Finding
it
impossible
to
suppress
those
yawns
by
any
other
process
than
conversation
,
she
compliments
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
on
her
son
,
declaring
that
he
positively
is
one
of
the
finest
figures
she
ever
saw
and
as
soldierly
a
looking
person
,
she
should
think
,
as
what
’
s
his
name
,
her
favourite
Life
Guardsman
—
the
man
she
dotes
on
,
the
dearest
of
creatures
—
who
was
killed
at
Waterloo
.
Sir
Leicester
hears
this
tribute
with
so
much
surprise
and
stares
about
him
in
such
a
confused
way
that
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
feels
it
necessary
to
explain
.
"
Miss
Dedlock
don
’
t
speak
of
my
eldest
son
,
Sir
Leicester
,
but
my
youngest
.
I
have
found
him
.
He
has
come
home
.
"
Sir
Leicester
breaks
silence
with
a
harsh
cry
.
"
George
?
Your
son
George
come
home
,
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
?
"
The
old
housekeeper
wipes
her
eyes
.
"
Thank
God
.
Yes
,
Sir
Leicester
.
"
Does
this
discovery
of
some
one
lost
,
this
return
of
some
one
so
long
gone
,
come
upon
him
as
a
strong
confirmation
of
his
hopes
?
Does
he
think
,
"
Shall
I
not
,
with
the
aid
I
have
,
recall
her
safely
after
this
,
there
being
fewer
hours
in
her
case
than
there
are
years
in
his
?
"
It
is
of
no
use
entreating
him
;
he
is
determined
to
speak
now
,
and
he
does
.
In
a
thick
crowd
of
sounds
,
but
still
intelligibly
enough
to
be
understood
.
"
Why
did
you
not
tell
me
,
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
?
"
"
It
happened
only
yesterday
,
Sir
Leicester
,
and
I
doubted
your
being
well
enough
to
be
talked
to
of
such
things
.
"
Besides
,
the
giddy
Volumnia
now
remembers
with
her
little
scream
that
nobody
was
to
have
known
of
his
being
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
’
s
son
and
that
she
was
not
to
have
told
.
But
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
protests
,
with
warmth
enough
to
swell
the
stomacher
,
that
of
course
she
would
have
told
Sir
Leicester
as
soon
as
he
got
better
.
"
Where
is
your
son
George
,
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
?
"
asks
Sir
Leicester
,
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
,
not
a
little
alarmed
by
his
disregard
of
the
doctor
’
s
injunctions
,
replies
,
in
London
.
"
Where
in
London
?
"
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
is
constrained
to
admit
that
he
is
in
the
house
.
"
Bring
him
here
to
my
room
.
Bring
him
directly
.
"
The
old
lady
can
do
nothing
but
go
in
search
of
him
.
Sir
Leicester
,
with
such
power
of
movement
as
he
has
,
arranges
himself
a
little
to
receive
him
.
When
he
has
done
so
,
he
looks
out
again
at
the
falling
sleet
and
snow
and
listens
again
for
the
returning
steps
.
A
quantity
of
straw
has
been
tumbled
down
in
the
street
to
deaden
the
noises
there
,
and
she
might
be
driven
to
the
door
perhaps
without
his
hearing
wheels
.
He
is
lying
thus
,
apparently
forgetful
of
his
newer
and
minor
surprise
,
when
the
housekeeper
returns
,
accompanied
by
her
trooper
son
.
Mr
.
George
approaches
softly
to
the
bedside
,
makes
his
bow
,
squares
his
chest
,
and
stands
,
with
his
face
flushed
,
very
heartily
ashamed
of
himself
.
"
Good
heaven
,
and
it
is
really
George
Rouncewell
!
"
exclaims
Sir
Leicester
.
"
Do
you
remember
me
,
George
?
"
The
trooper
needs
to
look
at
him
and
to
separate
this
sound
from
that
sound
before
he
knows
what
he
has
said
,
but
doing
this
and
being
a
little
helped
by
his
mother
,
he
replies
,
"
I
must
have
a
very
bad
memory
,
indeed
,
Sir
Leicester
,
if
I
failed
to
remember
you
.
"
"
When
I
look
at
you
,
George
Rouncewell
,
"
Sir
Leicester
observes
with
difficulty
,
"
I
see
something
of
a
boy
at
Chesney
Wold
—
I
remember
well
—
very
well
.
"
He
looks
at
the
trooper
until
tears
come
into
his
eyes
,
and
then
he
looks
at
the
sleet
and
snow
again
.
"
I
ask
your
pardon
,
Sir
Leicester
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
"
but
would
you
accept
of
my
arms
to
raise
you
up
?
You
would
lie
easier
,
Sir
Leicester
,
if
you
would
allow
me
to
move
you
.
"
"
If
you
please
,
George
Rouncewell
;
if
you
will
be
so
good
.
"
The
trooper
takes
him
in
his
arms
like
a
child
,
lightly
raises
him
,
and
turns
him
with
his
face
more
towards
the
window
.
"
Thank
you
.
You
have
your
mother
’
s
gentleness
,
"
returns
Sir
Leicester
,
"
and
your
own
strength
.
Thank
you
.
"
He
signs
to
him
with
his
hand
not
to
go
away
.
George
quietly
remains
at
the
bedside
,
waiting
to
be
spoken
to
.
"
Why
did
you
wish
for
secrecy
?
"
It
takes
Sir
Leicester
some
time
to
ask
this
.
"
Truly
I
am
not
much
to
boast
of
,
Sir
Leicester
,
and
I
—
I
should
still
,
Sir
Leicester
,
if
you
was
not
so
indisposed
—
which
I
hope
you
will
not
be
long
—
I
should
still
hope
for
the
favour
of
being
allowed
to
remain
unknown
in
general
.
That
involves
explanations
not
very
hard
to
be
guessed
at
,
not
very
well
timed
here
,
and
not
very
creditable
to
myself
.
However
opinions
may
differ
on
a
variety
of
subjects
,
I
should
think
it
would
be
universally
agreed
,
Sir
Leicester
,
that
I
am
not
much
to
boast
of
.
"
"
You
have
been
a
soldier
,
"
observes
Sir
Leicester
,
"
and
a
faithful
one
.
"
George
makes
his
military
bow
.
"
As
far
as
that
goes
,
Sir
Leicester
,
I
have
done
my
duty
under
discipline
,
and
it
was
the
least
I
could
do
.
"
"
You
find
me
,
"
says
Sir
Leicester
,
whose
eyes
are
much
attracted
towards
him
,
"
far
from
well
,
George
Rouncewell
.
"
"
I
am
very
sorry
both
to
hear
it
and
to
see
it
,
Sir
Leicester
.
"
"
I
am
sure
you
are
.
No
.
In
addition
to
my
older
malady
,
I
have
had
a
sudden
and
bad
attack
.
Something
that
deadens
,
"
making
an
endeavour
to
pass
one
hand
down
one
side
,
"
and
confuses
,
"
touching
his
lips
.
George
,
with
a
look
of
assent
and
sympathy
,
makes
another
bow
.
The
different
times
when
they
were
both
young
men
(
the
trooper
much
the
younger
of
the
two
)
and
looked
at
one
another
down
at
Chesney
Wold
arise
before
them
both
and
soften
both
.
Sir
Leicester
,
evidently
with
a
great
determination
to
say
,
in
his
own
manner
,
something
that
is
on
his
mind
before
relapsing
into
silence
,
tries
to
raise
himself
among
his
pillows
a
little
more
.
George
,
observant
of
the
action
,
takes
him
in
his
arms
again
and
places
him
as
he
desires
to
be
.
