As Ada was a little frightened, I said, to humour the poor old lady, that we were much obliged to her.

“Ye-es!” she said mincingly. “I imagine so. And here is Conversation Kenge. With his documents! How does your honourable worship do?”

“Quite well, quite well! Now don’t be troublesome, that’s a good soul!” said Mr Kenge, leading the way back.

“By no means,” said the poor old lady, keeping up with Ada and me. “Anything but troublesome. I shall confer estates on both — which is not being troublesome, I trust? I expect a judgment. Shortly. On the Day of Judgment. This is a good omen for you. Accept my blessing!”

She stopped at the bottom of the steep, broad flight of stairs; but we looked back as we went up, and she was still there, saying, still with a curtsy and a smile between every little sentence, “Youth. And hope. And beauty. And Chancery. And Conversation Kenge! Ha! Pray accept my blessing!”