My guardian begged them to be seated, and they all sat down.
“Tony,” said Mr. Guppy to his friend after an awkward silence. “Will you open the case?”
“Do it yourself,” returned the friend rather tartly.
“Well, Mr. Jarndyce, sir,” Mr. Guppy, after a moment’s consideration, began, to the great diversion of his mother, which she displayed by nudging Mr. Jobling with her elbow and winking at me in a most remarkable manner, “I had an idea that I should see Miss Summerson by herself and was not quite prepared for your esteemed presence. But Miss Summerson has mentioned to you, perhaps, that something has passed between us on former occasions?”
“Miss Summerson,” returned my guardian, smiling, “has made a communication to that effect to me.”
“That,” said Mr. Guppy, “makes matters easier. Sir, I have come out of my articles at Kenge and Carboy’s, and I believe with satisfaction to all parties. I am now admitted (after undergoing an examination that’s enough to badger a man blue, touching a pack of nonsense that he don’t want to know) on the roll of attorneys and have taken out my certificate, if it would be any satisfaction to you to see it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Guppy,” returned my guardian. “I am quite willing—I believe I use a legal phrase—to admit the certificate.”
Mr. Guppy therefore desisted from taking something out of his pocket and proceeded without it.
“I have no capital myself, but my mother has a little property which takes the form of an annuity”—here Mr. Guppy’s mother rolled her head as if she never could sufficiently enjoy the observation, and put her handkerchief to her mouth, and again winked at me—“and a few