MERRY days were these at Thornfield Hall; and busy days too: how

different from the first three months of stillness, monotony, and

solitude I had passed beneath its roof! All sad feelings seemed now

driven from the house, all gloomy associations forgotten: there was

life everywhere, movement all day long. You could not now traverse the

gallery, once so hushed, nor enter the front chambers, once so

tenantless, without encountering a smart lady's-maid or a dandy valet.

The kitchen, the butler's pantry, the servants' hall, the

entrance hall, were equally alive; and the saloons were only left void

and still when the blue sky and halcyon sunshine of the genial

spring weather called their occupants out into the grounds. Even

when that weather was broken, and continuous rain set in for some

days, no damp seemed cast over enjoyment: indoor amusements only

became more lively and varied, in consequence of the stop put to

outdoor gaiety.

I wondered what they were going to do the first evening a change of

entertainment was proposed: they spoke of 'playing charades,' but in

my ignorance I did not understand the term. The servants were called

in, the dining-room tables wheeled away, the lights otherwise

disposed, the chairs placed in a semicircle opposite the arch. While

Mr. Rochester and the other gentlemen directed these alterations,

the ladies were running up and down stairs ringing for their maids.

Mrs. Fairfax was summoned to give information respecting the resources

of the house in shawls, dresses, draperies of any kind; and certain

wardrobes of the third storey were ransacked, and their contents, in

the shape of brocaded and hooped petticoats, satin sacques, black

modes, lace lappets, etc., were brought down in armfuls by the

abigails; then a selection was made, and such things as were chosen

were carried to the boudoir within the drawing-room.

Meantime, Mr. Rochester had again summoned the ladies round him,

and was selecting certain of their number to be of his party. 'Miss

Ingram is mine, of course,' said he: afterwards he named the two

Misses Eshton, and Mrs. Dent. He looked at me: I happened to be near

him, as I had been fastening the clasp of Mrs. Dent's bracelet,

which had got loose.

'Will you play?' he asked. I shook my head. He did not insist,

which I rather feared he would have done; he allowed me to return

quietly to my usual seat.

He and his aids now withdrew behind the curtain: the other party,

which was headed by Colonel Dent, sat down on the crescent of

chairs. One of the gentlemen, Mr. Eshton, observing me, seemed to

propose that I should be asked to join them; but Lady Ingram instantly

negatived the notion.

'No,' I heard her say: 'she looks too stupid for any game of the

sort.'

Ere long a bell tinkled, and the curtain drew up. Within the

arch, the bulky figure of Sir George Lynn, whom Mr. Rochester had

likewise chosen, was seen enveloped in a white sheet: before him, on a

table, lay open a large book; and at his side stood Amy Eshton, draped

in Mr. Rochester's cloak, and holding a book in her hand. Somebody,

unseen, rang the bell merrily; then Adele (who had insisted on being

one of her guardian's party), bounded forward, scattering round her

the contents of a basket of flowers she carried on her arm. Then

appeared the magnificent figure of Miss Ingram, clad in white, a

long veil on her head, and a wreath of roses round her brow; by her

side walked Mr. Rochester, and together they drew near the table. They

knelt; while Mrs. Dent and Louisa Eshton, dressed also in white,

took up their stations behind them. A ceremony followed, in dumb show,

in which it was easy to recognise the pantomime of a marriage. At

its termination, Colonel Dent, and his party consulted in whispers for

two minutes, then the Colonel called out-

'Bride!' Mr. Rochester bowed, and the curtain fell.

A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its second

rising displayed a more elaborately prepared scene than the last.

The drawing-room, as I have before observed, was raised two steps

above the dining-room, and on the top of the upper step, placed a yard

or two back within the room, appeared a large marble basin, which I

recognised as an ornament of the conservatory- where it usually stood,

surrounded by exotics, and tenanted by gold fish- and whence it must

have been transported with some trouble, on account of its size and

weight.

Seated on the carpet, by the side of this basin, was seen Mr.

Rochester, costumed in shawls, with a turban on his head. His dark

eyes and swarthy skin and Paynim features suited the costume

exactly: he looked the very model of an Eastern emir, an agent or a

victim of the bowstring. Presently advanced into view Miss Ingram.

She, too, was attired in oriental fashion: a crimson scarf tied

sash-like round the waist; an embroidered handkerchief knotted about

her temples; her beautifully moulded arms bare, one of them upraised

in the act of supporting a pitcher, poised gracefully on her head.

Both her cast of form and feature, her complexion and her general air,

suggested the idea of some Israelitish princess of the patriarchal

days; and such was doubtless the character she intended to represent.

She approached the basin, and bent over it as if to fill her

pitcher; she again lifted it to her head. The personage on the

well-brink now seemed to accost her; to make some request:- 'She

hasted, let down her pitcher on her hand, and gave him to drink.' From

the bosom of his robe he then produced a casket, opened it and

showed magnificent bracelets and earrings; she acted astonishment

and admiration; kneeling, he laid the treasure at her feet;

incredulity and delight were expressed by her looks and gestures;

the stranger fastened the bracelets on her arms and the rings in her

ears. It was Eliezer and Rebecca: the camels only were wanting.

The divining party again laid their heads together: apparently they

could not agree about the word or syllable the scene illustrated.

Colonel Dent, their spokesman, demanded 'the tableau of the whole';

whereupon the curtain again descended.

On its third rising only a portion of the drawing-room was

disclosed; the rest being concealed by a screen, hung with some sort

of dark and coarse drapery. The marble basin was removed; in its place

stood a deal table and a kitchen chair: these objects were visible

by a very dim light proceeding from a horn lantern, the wax candles

being all extinguished.

Amidst this sordid scene, sat a man with his clenched hands resting

on his knees, and his eyes bent on the ground. I knew Mr. Rochester;

though the begrimed face, the disordered dress (his coat hanging loose

from one arm, as if it had been almost torn from his back in a

scuffle), the desperate and scowling countenance the rough,

bristling hair might well have disguised him. As he moved, a chain

clanked; to his wrists were attached fetters.

'Bridewell!' exclaimed Colonel Dent, and the charade was solved.

A sufficient interval having elapsed for the performers to resume

their ordinary costume, they re-entered the dining-room. Mr. Rochester

led in Miss Ingram; she was complimenting him on his acting.

'Do you know,' said she, 'that, of the three characters, I liked

you in the last best? Oh, had you but lived a few years earlier,

what a gallant gentleman-highwayman you would have made!'

'Is all the soot washed from my face?' he asked, turning it towards

her.

'Alas! yes: the more's the pity! Nothing could be more becoming

to your complexion than that ruffian's rouge.'

'You would like a hero of the road then?'

'An English hero of the road would be the next best thing to an

Italian bandit; and that could only be surpassed by a Levantine

pirate.'

'Well, whatever I am, remember you are my wife; we were married

an hour since, in the presence of all these witnesses.' She giggled,

and her colour rose.

'Now, Dent,' continued Mr. Rochester, 'it is your turn.' And as the

other party withdrew, he and his band took the vacated seats. Miss

Ingram placed herself at her leader's right hand; the other diviners

filled the chairs on each side of him and her. I did not now watch the

actors; I no longer waited with interest for the curtain to rise; my

attention was absorbed by the spectators; my eyes, erewhile fixed on

the arch, were now irresistibly attracted to the semicircle of chairs.

What charade Colonel Dent and his party played, what word they

chose, how they acquitted themselves, I no longer remember; but I

still see the consultation which followed each scene: I see Mr.

Rochester turn to Miss Ingram, and Miss Ingram to him; I see her

incline her head towards him, till the jetty curls almost touch his

shoulder and wave against his cheek; I hear their mutual

whisperings; I recall their interchanged glances; and something even

of the feeling roused by the spectacle returns in memory at this

moment.

I have told you, reader, that I had learnt to love Mr. Rochester: I

could not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to

notice me- because I might pass hours in his presence, and he would

never once turn his eyes in my direction- because I saw all his

attentions appropriated by a great lady, who scorned to touch me

with the hem of her robes as she passed; who, if ever her dark and

imperious eye fell on me by chance, would withdraw it instantly as

from an object too mean to merit observation. I could not unlove

him, because I felt sure he would soon marry this very lady- because I

read daily in her a proud security in his intentions respecting her-

because I witnessed hourly in him a style of courtship which, if

careless and choosing rather to be sought than to seek, was yet, in

its very carelessness, captivating, and in its very pride,

irresistible.

There was nothing to cool or banish love in these circumstances,

though much to create despair. Much too, you will think, reader, to

engender jealousy: if a woman, in my position, could presume to be

jealous of a woman in Miss Ingram's. But I was not jealous: or very

rarely;- the nature of the pain I suffered could not be explained by

that word. Miss Ingram was a mark beneath jealousy: she was too

inferior to excite the feeling. Pardon the seeming paradox; I mean

what I say. She was very showy, but she was not genuine: she had a

fine person, many brilliant attainments; but her mind was poor, her

heart barren by nature: nothing bloomed spontaneously on that soil; no

unforced natural fruit delighted by its freshness. She was not good;

she was not original: she used to repeat sounding phrases from

books: she never offered, nor had, an opinion of her own. She

advocated a high tone of sentiment; but she did not know the

sensations of sympathy and pity; tenderness and truth were not in her.

Too often she betrayed this, by the undue vent she gave to a

spiteful antipathy she had conceived against little Adele: pushing her

away with some contumelious epithet if she happened to approach her;

sometimes ordering her from the room, and always treating her with

coldness and acrimony. Other eyes besides mine watched these

manifestations of character- watched them closely, keenly, shrewdly.

Yes; the future bridegroom, Mr. Rochester himself, exercised over

his intended a ceaseless surveillance; and it was from this

sagacity- this guardedness of his- this perfect, clear consciousness

of his fair one's defects- this obvious absence of passion in his

sentiments towards her, that my ever-torturing pain arose.

I saw he was going to marry her, for family, perhaps political

reasons, because her rank and connections suited him; I felt he had

not given her his love, and that her qualifications were ill adapted

to win from him that treasure. This was the point- this was where

the nerve was touched and teased- this was where the fever was

sustained and fed: she could not charm him.

If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded and

sincerely laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face,

turned to the wall, and (figuratively) have died to them. If Miss

Ingram had been a good and noble woman, endowed with force, fervour,

kindness, sense, I should have had one vital struggle with two tigers-

jealousy and despair: then, my heart torn out and devoured, I should

have admired her- acknowledged her excellence, and been quiet for

the rest of my days: and the more absolute her superiority, the deeper

would have been my admiration- the more truly tranquil my

quiescence. But as matters really stood, to watch Miss Ingram's

efforts at fascinating Mr. Rochester, to witness their repeated

failure- herself unconscious that they did fail; vainly fancying

that each shaft launched hit the mark, and infatuatedly pluming

herself on success, when her pride and self-complacency repelled

further and further what she wished to allure- to witness this, was to

be at once under ceaseless excitation and ruthless restraint.

Because, when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded.

Arrows that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast and

fell harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand,

have quivered keen in his proud heart- have called love into his stern

eye, and softness into his sardonic face; or, better still, without

weapons a silent conquest might have been won.

'Why can she not influence him more, when she is privileged to draw

so near to him?' I asked myself. 'Surely she cannot truly like him, or

not like him with true affection! If she did, she need not coin her

smiles so lavishly, flash her glances so unremittingly, manufacture

airs so elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems to me that she

might, by merely sitting quietly at his side, saying little and

looking less, get nigher his heart. I have seen in his face a far

different expression from that which hardens it now while she is so

vivaciously accosting him; but then it came of itself: it was not

elicited by meretricious arts and calculated manoeuvres; and one had

but to accept it- to answer what he asked without pretension, to

address him when needful without grimace- and it increased and grew

kinder and more genial, and warmed one like a fostering sunbeam. How

will she manage to please him when they are married? I do not think

she will manage it; and yet it might be managed; and his wife might, I

verily believe, be the very happiest woman the sun shines on.'

I have not yet said anything condemnatory of Mr. Rochester's

project of marrying for interest and connections. It surprised me when

I first discovered that such was his intention: I had thought him a

man unlikely to be influenced by motives so commonplace in his

choice of a wife; but the longer I considered the position, education,

etc., of the parties, the less I felt justified in judging and blaming

either him or Miss Ingram for acting in conformity to ideas and

principles instilled into them, doubtless, from their childhood. All

their class held these principles: I supposed, then, they had

reasons for holding them such as I could not fathom. It seemed to me

that, were I a gentleman like him, I would take to my bosom only

such a wife as I could love; but the very obviousness of the

advantages to the husband's own happiness offered by this plan

convinced me that there must be arguments against its general adoption

of which I was quite ignorant: otherwise I felt sure all the world

would act as I wished to act.

But in other points, as well as this, I was growing very lenient to

my master: I was forgetting all his faults, for which I had once

kept a sharp look-out. It had formerly been my endeavour to study

all sides of his character: to take the bad with the good; and from

the just weighing of both, to form an equitable judgment. Now I saw no

bad. The sarcasm that had repelled, the harshness that had startled me

once, were only like keen condiments in a choice dish: their

presence was pungent, but their absence would be felt as comparatively

insipid. And as for the vague something- was it a sinister or a

sorrowful, a designing or a desponding expression?- that opened upon a

careful observer, now and then, in his eye, and closed again before

one could fathom the strange depth partially disclosed; that something

which used to make me fear and shrink, as if I had been wandering

amongst volcanic-looking hills, and had suddenly felt the ground

quiver and seen it gape: that something, I, at intervals, beheld

still; and with throbbing heart, but not with palsied nerves.

Instead of wishing to shun, I longed only to dare- to divine it; and I

thought Miss Ingram happy, because one day she might look into the

abyss at her leisure, explore its secrets and analyse their nature.

Meantime, while I thought only of my master and his future bride-

saw only them, heard only their discourse, and considered only their

movements of importance- the rest of the party were occupied with

their own separate interests and pleasures. The Ladies Lynn and Ingram

continued to consort in solemn conferences, where they nodded their

two turbans at each other, and held up their four hands in confronting

gestures of surprise, or mystery, or horror, according to the theme on

which their gossip ran, like a pair of magnified puppets. Mild Mrs.

Dent talked with good-natured Mrs. Eshton; and the two sometimes

bestowed a courteous word or smile on me. Sir George Lynn, Colonel

Dent, and Mr. Eshton discussed politics, or county affairs, or justice

business. Lord Ingram flirted with Amy Eshton; Louisa played and

sang to and with one of the Messrs. Lynn; and Mary Ingram listened

languidly to the gallant speeches of the other. Sometimes all, as with

one consent, suspended their by-play to observe and listen to the

principal actors: for, after all, Mr. Rochester and- because closely

connected with him- Miss Ingram were the life and soul of the party.

If he was absent from the room an hour, a perceptible dulness seemed

to steal over the spirits of his guests; and his re-entrance was

sure to give a fresh impulse to the vivacity of conversation.

The want of his animating influence appeared to be peculiarly

felt one day that he had been summoned to Millcote on business, and

was not likely to return till late. The afternoon was wet: a walk

the party had proposed to take to see a gipsy camp, lately pitched

on a common beyond Hay, was consequently deferred. Some of the

gentlemen were gone to the stables: the younger ones, together with

the younger ladies, were playing billiards in the billiard-room. The

dowagers Ingram and Lynn sought solace in a quiet game at cards.

Blanche Ingram, after having repelled, by supercilious taciturnity,

some efforts of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Eshton to draw her into

conversation, had first murmured over some sentimental tunes and

airs on the piano, and then, having fetched a novel from the

library, had flung herself in haughty listlessness on a sofa, and

prepared to beguile, by the spell of fiction, the tedious hours of

absence. The room and the house were silent: only now and then the

merriment of the billiard-players was heard from above.

It was verging on dusk, and the dock had already given warning of

the hour to dress for dinner, when little Adele, who knelt by me in

the drawing-room window-seat, suddenly exclaimed-

'Voila Monsieur Rochester, qui revient!'

I turned, and Miss Ingram darted forwards from her sofa: the

others, too, looked up from their several occupations; for at the same

time a crunching of wheels and a splashing tramp of horse-hoofs became

audible on the wet gravel. A post-chaise was approaching.

'What can possess him to come home in that style?' said Miss

Ingram. 'He rode Mesrour (the black horse), did he not, when he went

out? and Pilot was with him:- what has he done with the animals?'

As she said this, she approached her tall person and ample garments

so near the window, that I was obliged to bend back almost to the

breaking of my spine: in her eagerness she did not observe me at

first, but when she did, she curled her lip and moved to another

casement. The post-chaise stopped; the driver rang the door-bell,

and a gentleman alighted attired in travelling garb; but it was not

Mr. Rochester; it was a tall, fashionable-looking man, a stranger.

'How provoking!' exclaimed Miss Ingram: 'you tiresome monkey!'

(apostrophising Adele), 'who perched you up in the window to give

false intelligence?' and she cast on me an angry glance, as if I

were in fault.

Some parleying was audible in the hall, and soon the newcomer

entered. He bowed to Lady Ingram, as deeming her the eldest lady

present.

'It appears I come at an inopportune time, madam,' said he, 'when

my friend, Mr. Rochester, is from home; but I arrive from a very

long journey, and I think I may presume so far on old and intimate

acquaintance as to instal myself here till he returns.'

His manner was polite; his accent, in speaking, struck me as

being somewhat unusual,- not precisely foreign, but still not

altogether English: his age might be about Mr. Rochester's,- between

thirty and forty; his complexion was singularly sallow: otherwise he

was a fine-looking man, at first sight especially. On closer

examination, you detected something in his face that displeased, or

rather that failed to please. His features were regular, but too

relaxed: his eye was large and well cut, but the life looking out of

it was a tame, vacant life- at least so I thought.

The sound of the dressing-bell dispersed the party. It was not till

after dinner that I saw him again: he then seemed quite at his ease.

But I liked his physiognomy even less than before: it struck me as

being at the same time unsettled and inanimate. His eye wandered,

and had no meaning in its wandering: this gave him an odd look, such

as I never remembered to have seen. For a handsome and not an

unamiable-looking man, he repelled me exceedingly: there was no

power in that smooth-skinned face of a full oval shape: no firmness in

that aquiline nose and small cherry mouth; there was no thought on the

low, even forehead; no command in that blank, brown eye.

As I sat in my usual nook, and looked at him with the light of

the girandoles on the mantelpiece beaming full over him- for he

occupied an arm-chair drawn close to the fire and kept shrinking still

nearer, as if he were cold- I compared him with Mr. Rochester. I think

(with deference be it spoken) the contrast could not be much greater

between a sleek gander and a fierce falcon: between a meek sheep and

the rough-coated keen-eyed dog, its guardian.

He had spoken of Mr. Rochester as an old friend. A curious

friendship theirs must have been: a pointed illustration, indeed, of

the old adage that 'extremes meet.'

Two or three of the gentlemen sat near him, and I caught at times

scraps of their conversation across the room. At first I could not

make much sense of what I heard; for the discourse of Louisa Eshton

and Mary Ingram, who sat nearer to me, confused the fragmentary

sentences that reached me at intervals. These last were discussing the

stranger; they both called him 'a beautiful man.' Louisa said he was

'a love of a creature,' and she 'adored him'; and Mary instanced his

'pretty little mouth, and nice nose,' as her ideal of the charming.

'And what a sweet-tempered forehead he hast' cried Louisa,- 'so

smooth- none of those frowning irregularities I dislike so much; and

such a placid eye and smile!'

And then, to my great relief, Mr. Henry Lynn summoned them to the

other side of the room, to settle some point about the deferred

excursion to Hay Common.

I was now able to concentrate my attention on the group by the

fire, and I presently gathered that the newcomer was called Mr. Mason;

then I learned that he was but just arrived in England, and that he

came from some hot country: which was the reason, doubtless, his

face was so sallow, and that he sat so near the hearth, and wore a

surtout in the house. Presently the words Jamaica, Kingston, Spanish

Town, indicated the West Indies as his residence; and it was with no

little surprise I gathered, ere long, that he had there first seen and

become acquainted with Mr. Rochester. He spoke of his friend's dislike

of the burning heats, the hurricanes, and rainy seasons of that

region. I knew Mr. Rochester had been a traveller: Mrs. Fairfax had

said so; but I thought the continent of Europe had bounded his

wanderings; till now I had never heard a hint given of visits to

more distant shores.

I was pondering these things, when an incident, and a somewhat

unexpected one, broke the thread of my musings. Mr. Mason, shivering

as some one chanced to open the door, asked for more coal to be put on

the fire, which had burnt out its flame, though its mass of cinder

still shone hot and red. The footman who brought the coal, in going

out, stopped near Mr. Eshton's chair, and said something to him in a

low voice, of which I heard only the words, 'old woman,'- 'quite

troublesome.'

'Tell her she shall be put in the stocks if she does not take

herself off,' replied the magistrate.

'No- stop!' interrupted Colonel Dent. 'Don't send her away, Eshton;

we might turn the thing to account; better consult the ladies.' And

speaking aloud, he continued- 'Ladies, you talked of going to Hay

Common to visit the gipsy camp; Sam here says that one of the old

Mother Bunches is in the servants' hall at this moment, and insists

upon being brought in before "the quality," to tell them their

fortunes. Would you like to see her?'

'Surely, colonel,' cried Lady Ingram, 'you would not encourage such

a low impostor? Dismiss her, by all means, at once!'

'But I cannot persuade her to go away, my lady,' said the

footman; 'nor can any of the servants: Mrs. Fairfax is with her just

now, entreating her to be gone; but she has taken a chair in the

chimney-corner, and says nothing shall stir her from it till she

gets leave to come in here.'

'What does she want?' asked Mrs. Eshton.

'"To tell the gentry their fortunes," she says, ma'am; and she

swears she must and will do it.'

'What is she like?' inquired the Misses Eshton, in a breath.

'A shockingly ugly old creature, miss; almost as black as a crock.'

'Why, she's a real sorceress!' cried Frederick Lynn. 'Let us have

her in, of course.'

'To be sure,' rejoined his brother; 'it would be a thousand

pities to throw away such a chance of fun.'

'My dear boys, what are you thinking about?' exclaimed Mrs. Lynn.

'I cannot possibly countenance any such inconsistent proceeding,'

chimed in the Dowager Ingram.

'Indeed, mama, but you can- and will,' pronounced the haughty voice

of Blanche, as she turned round on the piano-stool; where till now she

had sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of music. 'I have a

curiosity to hear my fortune told: therefore, Sam, order the beldame

forward.'

'My darling Blanche! recollect-'

'I do- I recollect all you can suggest; and I must have my will-

quick, Sam!'

'Yes- yes- yes!' cried all the juveniles, both ladies and

gentlemen. 'Let her come- it will be excellent sport!'

The footman still lingered. 'She looks such a rough one,' said he.

'Go!' ejaculated Miss Ingram, and the man went.

Excitement instantly seized the whole party: a running fire of

raillery and jests was proceeding when Sam returned.

'She won't come now,' said he. 'She says it's not her mission to

appear before the "vulgar herd" (them's her words). I must show her

into a room by herself, and then those who wish to consult her must go

to her one by one.'

'You see now, my queenly Blanche,' began Lady Ingram, 'she

encroaches. Be advised, my angel girl- and-'

'Show her into the library, of course,' cut in the 'angel girl,'

'It is not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd

either: I mean to have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the

library?'

'Yes, ma'am- but she looks such a tinkler.'

'Cease that chatter, blockhead! and do my bidding.'

Again Sam vanished; and mystery, animation, expectation rose to

full flow once more.

'She's ready now,' said the footman, as he reappeared. 'She

wishes to know who will be her first visitor.'

'I think I had better just look in upon her before any of the

ladies go,' said Colonel Dent.

'Tell her, Sam, a gentleman is coming.'

Sam went and returned.

'She says, sir, that she'll have no gentlemen; they need not

trouble themselves to come near her; nor,' he added, with difficulty

suppressing a titter, 'any ladies either, except the young and

single.'

'By Jove, she has taste!' exclaimed Henry Lynn.

Miss Ingram rose solemnly: 'I go first,' she said, in a tone

which might have befitted the leader of a forlorn hope, mounting a

breach in the van of his men.

'Oh, my best! oh, my dearest! pause- reflect!' was her mama's

cry; but she swept past her in stately silence, passed through the

door which Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the library.

A comparative silence ensued. Lady Ingram thought it 'le cas' to

wring her hands: which she did accordingly. Miss Mary declared she

felt, for her part, she never dared venture. Amy and Louisa Eshton

tittered under their breath, and looked a little frightened.

The minutes passed very slowly: fifteen were counted before the

library-door again opened. Miss Ingram returned to us through the

arch.

Would she laugh? Would she take it as a joke? All eyes met her with

a glance of eager curiosity, and she met all eyes with one of rebuff

and coldness; she looked neither flurried nor merry: she walked

stiffly to her seat, and took it in silence.

'Well, Blanche?' said Lord Ingram.

'What did she say, sister?' asked Mary.

'What did you think? How do you feel? Is she a real

fortune-teller?' demanded the Misses Eshton.

'Now, now, good people,' returned Miss Ingram, 'don't press upon

me. Really your organs of wonder and credulity are easily excited: you

seem, by the importance you all- my good mama included- ascribe to

this matter, absolutely to believe we have a genuine witch in the

house, who is in close alliance with the old gentleman. I have seen

a gipsy vagabond; she has practised in hackneyed fashion the science

of palmistry and told me what such people usually tell. My whim is

gratified; and now I think Mr. Eshton will do well to put the hag in

the stocks to-morrow morning, as he threatened.'

Miss Ingram took a book, leant back in her chair, and so declined

further conversation. I watched her for nearly half an hour: during

all that time she never turned a page, and her face grew momently

darker, more dissatisfied, and more sourly expressive of

disappointment. She had obviously not heard anything to her advantage:

and it seemed to me, from her prolonged fit of gloom and

taciturnity, that she herself, notwithstanding her professed

indifference, attached undue importance to whatever revelations had

been made her.

Meantime, Mary Ingram, Amy and Louisa Eshton, declared they dared

not go alone; and yet they all wished to go. A negotiation was

opened through the medium of the ambassador, Sam; and after much

pacing to and fro, till, I think, the said Sam's calves must have

ached with the exercise, permission was at last, with great

difficulty, extorted from the rigorous Sibyl, for the three to wait

upon her in a body.

Their visit was not so still as Miss Ingram's had been: we heard

hysterical giggling and little shrieks proceeding from the library;

and at the end of about twenty minutes they burst the door open, and

came running across the hall, as if they were half-scared out of their

wits.

'I am sure she is something not right!' they cried, one and all.

'She told us such things! She knows all about us!' and they sank

breathless into the various seats the gentlemen hastened to bring

them.

Pressed for further explanation, they declared she had told them of

things they had said and done when they were mere children;

described books and ornaments they had in their boudoirs at home:

keepsakes that different relations had presented to them. They

affirmed that she had even divined their thoughts, and had whispered

in the ear of each the name of the person she liked best in the world,

and informed them of what they most wished for.

Here the gentlemen interposed with earnest petitions to be

further enlightened on these two last-named points; but they got

only blushes, ejaculations, tremors, and titters, in return for

their importunity. The matrons, meantime, offered vinaigrettes and

wielded fans; and again and again reiterated the expression of their

concern that their warning had not been taken in time; and the elder

gentlemen laughed, and the younger urged their services on the

agitated fair ones.

In the midst of the tumult, and while my eyes and ears were fully

engaged in the scene before me, I heard a hem close at my elbow: I

turned, and saw Sam.

'If you please, miss, the gipsy declares that there is another

young single lady in the room who has not been to her yet, and she

swears she will not go till she has seen all. I thought it must be

you: there is no one else for it. What shall I tell her?'

'Oh, I will go by all means,' I answered: and I was glad of the

unexpected opportunity to gratify my much-excited curiosity. I slipped

out of the room, unobserved by any eye- for the company were

gathered in one mass about the trembling trio just returned- and I

closed the door quietly behind me.

'If you like, miss,' said Sam, 'I'll wait in the hall for you;

and if she frightens you, just call and I'll come in.'

'No, Sam, return to the kitchen: I am not in the least afraid.' Nor

was I; but I was a good deal interested and excited.