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to be taught to dance, and so I went to Mr. Turveydrop’s
Academy in Newman Street.’
‘And was it there, my dear—‘ I began.
‘Yes, it was there,’ said Caddy, ‘and I am engaged to Mr.
Turveydrop. There are two Mr. Turveydrops, father and
son. My Mr. Turveydrop is the son, of course. I only wish
I had been better brought up and was likely to make him a
better wife, for I am very fond of him.’
‘I am sorry to hear this,’ said I, ‘I must confess.’
‘I don’t know why you should be sorry,’ she retorted a lit-
tle anxiously, ‘but I am engaged to Mr. Turveydrop, whether
or no, and he is very fond of me. It’s a secret as yet, even on
his side, because old Mr. Turveydrop has a share in the con-
nexion and it might break his heart or give him some other
shock if he was told of it abruptly. Old Mr. Turveydrop is a
very gentlemanly man indeed—very gentlemanly.’
‘Does his wife know of it?’ asked Ada.
‘Old Mr. Turveydrop’s wife, Miss Clare?’ returned Miss
Jellyby, opening her eyes. ‘There’s no such person. He is a
widower.’
We were here interrupted by Peepy, whose leg had un-
dergone so much on account of his sister’s unconsciously
jerking it like a bellrope whenever she was emphatic that the
afflicted child now bemoaned his sufferings with a very low-
spirited noise. As he appealed to me for compassion, and as
I was only a listener, I undertook to hold him. Miss Jellyby
proceeded, after begging Peepy’s pardon with a kiss and as-
suring him that she hadn’t meant to do it.
‘That’s the state of the case,’ said Caddy. ‘If I ever blame

282 Bleak House