 signs of improvement, Allan engages him in conversation; and elicits to
his no small wonder the adventure of the lady in the veil, with all its
consequences. Jo slowly munches, as he slowly tells it. When he has finished his
story and his bread, they go on again.
    Intending to refer his difficulty in finding a temporary place of refuge for
the boy, to his old patient, zealous little Miss Flite, Allan leads the way to
the court where he and Jo first foregathered. But all is changed at the rag and
bottle shop; Miss Flite no longer lodges there; it is shut up; and a
hard-featured female, much obscured by dust, whose age is a problem - but who is
indeed no other than the interesting Judy - is tart and spare in her replies.
These sufficing, however, to inform the visitor that Miss Flite and her birds
are domiciled with a Mrs. Blinder, in Bell Yard, he repairs to that neighbouring
place; where Miss Flite (who rises early that she may be punctual at the Divan
of justice held by her excellent friend the Chancellor) comes running
down-stairs, with tears of welcome and with open arms.
    »My dear physician!« cries Miss Flite. »My meritorious, distinguished,
honourable officer!« She uses some odd expressions, but is as cordial and full
of heart as sanity itself can be - more so than it often is. Allan, very patient
with her, waits until she has no more raptures to express; then points out Jo,
trembling in a doorway, and tells her how he comes there.
    »Where can I lodge him hereabouts for the present? Now you have a fund of
knowledge and good sense, and can advise me.«
    Miss Flite, mighty proud of the compliment, sets herself to consider; but it
is long before a bright thought occurs to her. Mrs. Blinder is entirely let, and
she herself occupies poor Gridley's room. »Gridley!« exclaims Miss Flite,
clapping her hands, after a twentieth repetition of this remark. »Gridley! To be
sure! of course! My dear physician! General George will help us out.«
    It is hopeless to ask for any information about General George, and would
be, though Miss Flite had not already run up-stairs to put on her pinched bonnet
and her poor little shawl, and to arm herself with her reticule of documents.
But as she informs her physician, in her disjointed manner, on coming down in
full array, that General George, whom she often calls
