“Most extraordinary!” said Miss Flite, smiling brightly. “You never heard of such a thing, my dear! Every Saturday, Conversation Kenge, or Guppy (clerk to Conversation K.), places in my hand a paper of shillings. Shillings. I assure you! Always the same number in the paper. Always one for every day in the week. Now you know, really! So well-timed, is it not? Ye-es! From whence do these papers come, you say? That is the great question. Naturally. Shall I tell you what I think? I think,” said Miss Flite, drawing herself back with a very shrewd look, and shaking her right fore-finger in a most significant manner, “that the Lord Chancellor, aware of the length of time during which the Great Seal has been open, (for it has been open a long time!), forwards them. Until the judgment I expect, is given. Now that’s very creditable, you know. To confess in that way that he is a little slow for human life. So delicate! Attending court the other day — I attend it regularly, with my documents — I taxed him with it, and he almost confessed. That is, I smiled at him from my bench, and he smiled at me from his bench. But it’s great good fortune, is it not? And Fitz-Jarndyce lays the money out for me to great advantage. O, I assure you to the greatest advantage!”
I congratulated her (as she addressed herself to me) upon this fortunate addition to her income, and wished her a long continuance of it. I did not speculate upon the source from which it came, or wonder whose humanity was so considerate. My guardian stood before me, contemplating the birds, and I had no need to look beyond him.
“And what do you call these little fellows, ma’am?” said he in his pleasant voice. “Have they any names?”
“I can answer for Miss Elite that they have,” said I, “for she promised to tell us what they were. Ada remembers?”
Ada remembered very well.
“Did I?” said Miss Flite. — “Who’s that at my door? What are you listening at my door for, Krook?”
The old man of the house, pushing it open before him, appeared there with his fur-cap in his hand, and his cat at his heels.
“I warn’t listening, Miss Flite,” he said, “I was going to give a rap with my knuckles, only you’re so quick!”
“Make your cat go down. Drive her away!” the old lady angrily exclaimed.
“Bah, bah! — There ain’t no danger, gentlefolks,” said Mr Krook, looking slowly and sharply from one to another, until he had looked at all of us; “she’d never offer at the birds when I was here, unless I told her to it.”
“You will excuse my landlord,” said the old lady with a dignified air. “M, quite M! What do you want, Krook, when I have company?”
“Hi!” said the old man. “You know I am the Chancellor.”
“Well?” returned Miss Flite. “What of that?”
“For the Chancellor,” said the old man, with a chuckle, “not to be acquainted with a Jarndyce is queer, ain’t it, Miss Flite? Mightn’t I take the liberty? — Your servant, sir. I know Jarndyce and Jarndyce a’most as well as you do, sir. I knowed old Squire Tom, sir. I never to my knowledge see you afore though, not even in court. Yet, I go there a mortal sight of times in the course of the year, taking one day with another.”
“I never go there,” said Mr Jarndyce (which he never did on any consideration). “I would sooner go — somewhere else.”