I think it came on “for further directions,” — about some bill of costs, to the best of my understanding, which was confused enough. But I counted twenty-three gentlemen in wigs, who said they were “in it,” and none of them appeared to understand it much better than I. They chatted about it with the Lord Chancellor, and contradicted and explained among themselves, and some of them said it was this way, and some of them said it was that way, and some of them jocosely proposed to read huge volumes of affidavits, and there was more buzzing and laughing, and everybody concerned was in a state of idle entertainment, and nothing could be made of it by anybody. After an hour or so of this, and a good many speeches being begun and cut short, it was “referred back for the present,” as Mr Kenge said, and the papers were bundled up again, before the clerks had finished bringing them in.

I glanced at Richard, on the termination of these hopeless proceedings, and was shocked to see the worn look of his handsome young face. “It can’t last for ever, Dame Durden. Better luck next time!” was all he said.

I had seen Mr Guppy bringing in papers, and arranging them for Mr Kenge; and he had seen me and made me a forlorn bow, which rendered me desirous to get out of the court. Richard had given me his arm and was taking me away, when Mr Guppy came up.

“I beg your pardon, Mr Carstone,” said he, in a whisper, “and Miss Summerson’s also; but there’s a lady here, a friend of mine, who knows her, and wishes to have the pleasure of shaking hands.” As he spoke, I saw before me, as if she had started into bodily shape from my remembrance, Mrs Rachael of my godmother’s house.

“How do you do, Esther?” said she. “Do you recollect me?”

I gave her my hand, and told her yes, and that she was very little altered.

“I wonder you remember those times, Esther,” she returned with her old asperity. “They are changed now. Well! I am glad to see you, and glad you are not too proud to know me.” But, indeed she seemed disappointed that I was not.

“Proud, Mrs Rachael!” I remonstrated.

“I am married, Esther,” she returned, coldly correcting me, “and am Mrs Chadband. Well! I wish you good day, and I hope you’ll do well.”

Mr Guppy, who had been attentive to this short dialogue, heaved a sigh in my ear, and elbowed his own and Mrs Rachael’s way through the confused little crowd of people coming in and going out, which we were in the midst of, and which the change in the business had brought together. Richard and I were making our way through it, and I was yet in the first chill of the late unexpected recognition, when I saw, coming towards us, but not seeing us, no less a person than Mr George. He made nothing of the people about him as he tramped on, staring over their heads into the body of the court.

“George!” said Richard, as I called his attention to him.

“You are well met, sir,” he returned. “And you, miss. Could you point a person out for me, I want? I don’t understand these places.”

Turning as he spoke, and making an easy way for us, he stopped when we were out of the press, in a corner behind a great red curtain.

“There’s a little cracked old woman,” he began, “that—”

I put up my finger, for Miss Flite was close by me; having kept beside me all the time, and having called the attention of several of her legal acquaintance to me (as I had overheard to my confusion), by whispering in their ears, “Hush! Fitz-Jarndyce on my left!”