“Charley?”
“If you please, miss, I’m a present to you, with Mr. Jarndyce’s love.”
I sat down with my hand on Charley’s neck and looked at Charley.
“And oh, miss,” says Charley, clapping her hands, with the tears starting down her dimpled cheeks, “Tom’s at school, if you please, and learning so good! And little Emma, she’s with Mrs. Blinder, miss, a-being took such care of! And Tom, he would have been at school—and Emma, she would have been left with Mrs. Blinder—and me, I should have been here—all a deal sooner, miss; only Mr. Jarndyce thought that Tom and Emma and me had better get a little used to parting first, we was so small. Don’t cry, if you please, miss!”
“I can’t help it, Charley.”
“No, miss, nor I can’t help it,” says Charley. “And if you please, miss, Mr. Jarndyce’s love, and he thinks you’ll like to teach me now and then. And if you please, Tom and Emma and me is to see each other once a month. And I’m so happy and so thankful, miss,” cried Charley with a heaving heart, “and I’ll try to be such a good maid!”
“Oh, Charley dear, never forget who did all this!”
“No, miss, I never will. Nor Tom won’t. Nor yet Emma. It was all you, miss.”
“I have known nothing of it. It was Mr. Jarndyce, Charley.”
“Yes, miss, but it was all done for the love of you and that you might be my mistress. If you please, miss, I am a little present with his love, and it was all done for the love of you. Me and Tom was to be sure to remember it.”