fingers. Everything the dear child wore was either too large for him or too small. Among his other contradictory decorations he had the hat of a bishop and the little gloves of a baby. His boots were, on a small scale, the boots of a ploughman, while his legs, so crossed and recrossed with scratches that they looked like maps, were bare below a very short pair of plaid drawers finished off with two frills of perfectly different patterns. The deficient buttons on his plaid frock had evidently been supplied from one of Mr. Jellyby’s coats, they were so extremely brazen and so much too large. Most extraordinary specimens of needlework appeared on several parts of his dress, where it had been hastily mended, and I recognized the same hand on Miss Jellyby’s. She was, however, unaccountably improved in her appearance and looked very pretty. She was conscious of poor little Peepy being but a failure after all her trouble, and she showed it as she came in by the way in which she glanced first at him and then at us.
—¡Dios mío! —dijo mi tutor—. ¡Justo al este!
Ada y yo le dimos una cordial bienvenida y se la presentamos a Mr. Jarndyce, a quien ella le dijo al sentarse:
«Saludos de mamá, y espera que la disculpes porque está corrigiendo las pruebas del plano. Va a sacar cinco mil circulares nuevas, y sabe que a usted le interesará saberlo. He traído una conmigo. Saludos de mamá».
Dicho lo cual, la entregó con bastante malhumor.
—Gracias —dijo mi tutor—. Le estoy muy agradecido a la señora Jellyby. ¡Válgame Dios! ¡Este viento