of lawsuits regarding the
boundary between their land.

Another visitor whom Esther found amusing was Harold Skimpole, a light,
bright creature of charming manners, with a large head and full of
simple gaiety. He was a man who seemed to trifle with everything. He
sang a little, composed a little and sketched a little. But his songs
were never completed and his sketches never finished.

His aim in life seemed to be to avoid all responsibility, and to find
some one else to pay his debts. He always spoke of himself as a "child,"
though he was middle-aged. He claimed to have no idea whatever of the
value of money. He would take a handful of coins from his pocket and say
laughing, "Now, there's some money. I have no idea how much. I don't
know how to count it. I dare say I owe more than that. If good-natured
people don't stop letting me owe them, why should I? There you have
Harold Skimpole." Mr. Jarndyce was far too honest and innocent himself
to see through the man's hollow selfishness and was continually paying
his debts, as they soon learned.

Most of all Bleak House's visitors, Esther came to like Allan Woodcourt,
a handsome dark-haired young surgeon, and before long she found herself
unconsciously looking and longing for his coming. Woodcourt was poor,
however, and although he was in love with Esther he did not tell her,
but soon sailed away on a long voyage as a ship's doctor.

II

LADY DEDLOCK'S SECRET

Sir Leicester Dedlock, whom Mr. Boythorn so loved to torment, was
seventy years old. His wife, many years younger than himself, he had
married for love. Lady Dedlock was not noble by birth--no one, indeed,
knew who she had been before her marriage--but she was very beautiful.
She was as proud and haughty, too, as she was lovely, and was much
sought after. But with all her popularity she had few close friends, and
no one in whom she confided.

Even her housekeeper, Mrs. Rouncewell, a fine, handsome old woman who
had been Sir Leicester's servant for fifty years, thought her cold and
reserved. Mrs. Rouncewell herself had had a son George, who many years
before had gone off to be a soldier and had never come back; and,
looking at her mistress's face, she often wondered if the shadow of pain
there was the mark of some old grief or loss of which no one knew.
However that may have been, the old baronet loved his wife and was very
proud of her.

Sir Leicester's family lawyer was named Tulkinghorn. He was a dull,