Perspective

           Iproceedtootherpassagesofmynarrative.FromthegoodnessofallaboutmeIderivedsuchconsolationasIcanneverthinkofunmoved.Ihavealreadysaidsomuchofmyself,andsomuchstillremains,thatIwillnotdwelluponmysorrow.Ihadanillness,butitwasnotalongone;andIwouldavoideventhismentionofitifIcouldquitekeepdowntherecollectionoftheirsympathy.Iproceedtootherpassagesofmynarrative.Duringthetimeofmyillness,wewerestillinLondon,whereMrs.Woodcourthadcome,onmyguardian’sinvitation,tostaywithus.Whenmyguardianthoughtmewellandcheerfulenoughtotalkwithhiminouroldway—thoughIcouldhavedonethatsoonerifhewouldhavebelievedme—Iresumedmyworkandmychairbesidehis.Hehadappointedthetimehimself,andwewerealone."DameTrot,"saidhe,receivingmewithakiss,"welcometothegrowleryagain,mydear.Ihaveaschemetodevelop,littlewoman.Iproposetoremainhere,perhapsforsixmonths,perhapsforalongertime—asitmaybe.Quitetosettlehereforawhile,inshort.""AndinthemeanwhileleaveBleakHouse?"saidI."Aye,mydear?BleakHouse,"hereturned,"mustlearntotakecareofitself."Ithoughthistonesoundedsorrowful,butlookingathim,Isawhiskindfacelightedupbyitspleasantestsmile."BleakHouse,"herepeated—andhistonedidNOTsoundsorrowful,Ifound—"mustlearntotakecareofitself.ItisalongwayfromAda,mydear,andAdastandsmuchinneedofyou.""It’slikeyou,guardian,"saidI,"tohavebeentakingthatintoconsiderationforahappysurprisetobothofus.