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if quite so much, but nearly two years older than she was.
They were both orphans and (what was very unexpected
and curious to me) had never met before that day. Our all
three coming together for the first time in such an unusual
place was a thing to talk about, and we talked about it; and
the fire, which had left off roaring, winked its red eyes at
us—as Richard said—like a drowsy old Chancery lion.
We conversed in a low tone because a full-dressed gen-
tleman in a bag wig frequenfly came in and out, and when
he did so, we could hear a drawling sound in the distance,
which he said was one of the counsel in our case addressing
the Lord Chancellor. He told Mr. Kenge that the Chancellor
would be up in five minutes; and presently we heard a bustle
and a tread of feet, and Mr. Kenge said that the Court had
risen and his lordship was in the next room.
The gentleman in the bag wig opened the door almost
directly and requested Mr. Kenge to come in. Upon that,
we all went into the next room, Mr. Kenge first, with my
darling—it is so natural to me now that I can’t help writing
it; and there, plainly dressed in black and sitting in an arm-
chair at a table near the fire, was his lordship, whose robe,
trimmed with beautiful gold lace, was thrown upon anoth-
er chair. He gave us a searching look as we entered, but his
manner was both courtly and kind.
The gentleman in the bag wig laid bundles of papers on
his lordship’s table, and his lordship silently selected one
and turned over the leaves.
‘Miss Clare,’ said the Lord Chancellor. ‘Miss Ada Clare?’
Mr. Kenge presented her, and his lordship begged her to

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