We went our way too, which was to Lincoln’s Inn, as quickly as possible. Mr Kenge was disengaged; and we found him at his table in his dusty room, with the inexpressive-looking books, and the piles of papers. Chairs having been placed for us by Mr Guppy, Mr Kenge expressed the surprise and gratification he felt at the unusual sight of Mr Jarndyce in his office. He turned over his double eye-glass as he spoke, and was more Conversation Kenge than ever.
“I hope,” said Mr Kenge, “that the genial influence of Miss Summerson,” he bowed to me, “may have induced Mr Jarndyce,” he bowed to him, “to forego some little of his animosity towards a Cause and towards a Court which are — shall I say, which take their place in the stately vista of the pillars of our profession?”
“I am inclined to think,” returned my guardian, “that Miss Summerson has seen too much of the effects of the court and the Cause to exert any influence in their favour. Nevertheless, they are a part of the occasion of my being here. Mr Kenge, before I lay this paper on your desk and have done with it, let me tell you how it has come into my hands.”
He did so shortly and distinctly.
“It could not, sir,” said Mr Kenge, “have been stated more plainly and to the purpose, if it had been a case at law.” “Did you ever know English law, or equity either, plain and to the purpose?” said my guardian. “O, fie!” said Mr Kenge.
At first he had not seemed to attach much importance to the paper, but when he saw it he appeared more interested, and when he had opened and read a little of it through his eye-glass, he became amazed. “Mr Jarndyce,” he said, looking off it, “you have perused this?”
“Not I!” returned my guardian.
“But, my dear sir,” said Mr Kenge, “it is a Will of later date than any in the suit. It appears to be all in the Testator’s handwriting. It is duly executed and attested. And even if intended to be cancelled, as might possibly be supposed to be denoted by these marks of fire, it is not cancelled. Here it is, a perfect instrument!”
“Well!” said my guardian. “What is that to me?”
“Mr Guppy!” cried Mr Kenge, raising his voice. “I beg your pardon, Mr Jarndyce.”
“Sir.”
“Mr Vholes of Symond’s Inn. My compliments. Jarndyce and Jarndyce. Glad to speak with him.”
Mr Guppy disappeared.
“You ask me what is this to you, Mr Jarndyce. If you had perused this document, you would have seen that it reduces your interest considerably, though still leaving it a very handsome one, still leaving it a very handsome one,” said Mr Kenge, waving his hand persuasively and blandly. “You would further have seen that the interests of Mr Richard Carstone, and of Miss Ada Clare, now Mrs Richard Carstone, are very materially advanced by it.”
“Kenge,” said my guardian, “if all the flourishing wealth that the suit brought into this vile court of Chancery could fall to my two young cousins, I should be well contented. But do you ask me to believe that any good is to come of Jarndyce and Jarndyce?”
“O, really, Mr Jarndyce! Prejudice, prejudice. My dear sir, this is a very great country, a very great country. Its system of equity is a very great system, a very great system. Really, really!”