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.”