Page 100 - bleak-house

‘And how did you like the ride? And how did you like
Mrs. Jellyby, my dear?’ said Mr. Jarndyce to Ada.
While Ada was speaking to him in reply, I glanced (I need
not say with how much interest) at his face. It was a hand-
some, lively, quick face, full of change and motion; and his
hair was a silvered iron-grey. I took him to be nearer sixty
than fifty, but he was upright, hearty, and robust. From the
moment of his first speaking to us his voice had connected
itself with an association in my mind that I could not de-
fine; but now, all at once, a something sudden in his manner
and a pleasant expression in his eyes recalled the gentleman
in the stagecoach six years ago on the memorable day of my
journey to Reading. I was certain it was he. I never was so
frightened in my life as when I made the discovery, for he
caught my glance, and appearing to read my thoughts, gave
such a look at the door that I thought we had lost him.
However, I am happy to say he remained where he was,
and asked me what I thought of Mrs. Jellyby.
‘She exerts herself very much for Africa, sir,’ I said.
‘Nobly!’ returned Mr. Jarndyce. ‘But you answer like
Ada.’ Whom I had not heard. ‘You all think something else,
I see.’
‘We rather thought,’ said I, glancing at Richard and Ada,
who entreated me with their eyes to speak, ‘that perhaps she
was a little unmindful of her home.’
‘Floored!’ cried Mr. Jarndyce.
I was rather alarmed again.
‘Well! I want to know your real thoughts, my dear. I may
have sent you there on purpose.’

100 Bleak House