we called we found a medical gentleman attending her in her garret in
Lincoln's Inn.

Miss Flite dropped a general curtsy.

"Honoured, indeed," she said, "by another visit from the wards in
Jarndyce! Very happy to receive Jarndyce of Bleak House beneath my
humble roof!"

"Has she been very ill?" asked Mr. Jarndyce in a whisper of the doctor.

"Oh, decidedly unwell!" she answered confidentially. "Not pain, you
know--trouble. Only Mr. Woodcourt knows how much. My physician, Mr.
Woodcourt"--with great stateliness--"The wards in Jarndyce; Jarndyce of
Bleak House. The kindest physician in the college," she whispered to me.
"I expect a judgment. On the Day of Judgment. And shall then confer
estates."

"She will be as well, in a day or two," said Mr. Woodcourt, with an
observant smile, "as she ever will be. Have you heard of her good
fortune?"

"Most extraordinary!" said Miss Flite. "Every Saturday Kenge and Carboy
place a paper of shillings in my hand. Always the same number. One for
every day in the week. _I_ think that the Lord Chancellor forwards them.
Until the judgment I expect is given."

My guardian was contemplating Miss Flite's birds, and I had no need to
look beyond him.