fashionable.« »If you want to get this print upon the tables of
my high connexion, sir,« says Mr. Sladdery the librarian, »or if you want to get
this dwarf or giant into the houses of my high connexion, sir, or if you want to
secure to this entertainment, the patronage of my high connexion, sir, you must
leave it, if you please, to me; for I have been accustomed to study the leaders
of my high connexion, sir; and I may tell you, without vanity, that I can turn
them round my finger,« - in which Mr. Sladdery, who is an honest man, does not
exaggerate at all.
    Therefore, while Mr. Tulkinghorn may not know what is passing in the Dedlock
mind at present, it is very possible that he may.
    »My Lady's cause has been again before the Chancellor, has it, Mr.
Tulkinghorn?« says Sir Leicester, giving him his hand.
    »Yes. It has been on again to-day,« Mr. Tulkinghorn replies; making one of
his quiet bows to my Lady who is on a sofa near the fire, shading her face with
a hand-screen.
    »It would be useless to ask,« says my lady, with the dreariness of the place
in Lincolnshire, still upon her, »whether anything has been done.«
    »Nothing that you would call anything, has been done to-day,« replies Mr.
Tulkinghorn.
    »Nor ever will be,« says my Lady.
    Sir Leicester has no objection to an interminable Chancery suit. It is a
slow, expensive, British, constitutional kind of thing. To be sure, he has not a
vital interest in the suit in question, her part in which was the only property
my Lady brought him; and he has a shadowy impression that for his name - the
name of Dedlock - to be in a cause, and not in the title of that cause, is a
most ridiculous accident. But he regards the Court of Chancery, even if it
should involve an occasional delay of justice and a trifling amount of
confusion, as a something, devised in conjunction with a variety of other
somethings, by the perfection of human wisdom, for the eternal settlement
(humanly speaking) of everything. And he is upon the whole of a fixed opinion,
that to give the sanction of his countenance to any complaints respecting it,
would be to encourage some person in the lower classes to rise up somewhere -
like Wat Tyler.
    »As a few fresh