Merry days were these at Thornfield Hall; and busy days too: howdifferent from the first three months of stillness, monotony, andsolitude I had passed beneath its roof! All sad feelings seemed nowdriven from the house, all gloomy associations forgotten: there waslife everywhere, movement all day long. You could not now traversethe gallery, once so hushed, nor enter the front chambers, once sotenantless, without encountering a smart lady's-maid or a dandyvalet.

The kitchen, the butler's pantry, the servants' hall, the entrancehall, were equally alive; and the saloons were only left void andstill when the blue sky and halcyon sunshine of the genial springweather called their occupants out into the grounds. Even when thatweather was broken, and continuous rain set in for some days, nodamp seemed cast over enjoyment: indoor amusements only became morelively and varied, in consequence of the stop put to outdoor gaiety.

I wondered what they were going to do the first evening a change ofentertainment was proposed: they spoke of "playing charades," butin my ignorance I did not understand the term. The servants werecalled in, the dining-room tables wheeled away, the lights otherwisedisposed, the chairs placed in a semicircle opposite the arch.While Mr. Rochester and the other gentlemen directed thesealterations, the ladies were running up and down stairs ringing fortheir maids. Mrs. Fairfax was summoned to give informationrespecting the resources of the house in shawls, dresses, draperiesof any kind; and certain wardrobes of the third storey wereransacked, and their contents, in the shape of brocaded and hoopedpetticoats, satin sacques, black modes, lace lappets, &c., werebrought down in armfuls by the abigails; then a selection was made,and such things as were chosen were carried to the boudoir withinthe drawing-room.

Meantime, Mr. Rochester had again summoned the ladies round him, andwas selecting certain of their number to be of his party. "MissIngram is mine, of course," said he: afterwards he named the twoMisses Eshton, and Mrs. Dent. He looked at me: I happened to benear 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 returnquietly 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 ofchairs. One of the gentlemen, Mr. Eshton, observing me, seemed topropose that I should be asked to join them; but Lady Ingraminstantly negatived the notion.

"No," I heard her say: "she looks too stupid for any game of thesort."

Ere long a bell tinkled, and the curtain drew up. Within the arch,the bulky figure of Sir George Lynn, whom Mr. Rochester had likewisechosen, was seen enveloped in a white sheet: before him, on atable, 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 hadinsisted on being one of her guardian's party), bounded forward,scattering round her the contents of a basket of flowers she carriedon her arm. Then appeared the magnificent figure of Miss Ingram,clad in white, a long veil on her head, and a wreath of roses roundher brow; by her side walked Mr. Rochester, and together they drewnear the table. They knelt; while Mrs. Dent and Louisa Eshton,dressed also in white, took up their stations behind them. Aceremony followed, in dumb show, in which it was easy to recognisethe pantomime of a marriage. At its termination, Colonel Dent andhis party consulted in whispers for two minutes, then the Colonelcalled out -

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

A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its secondrising displayed a more elaborately prepared scene than the last.The drawing-room, as I have before observed, was raised two stepsabove the dining-room, and on the top of the upper step, placed ayard or two back within the room, appeared a large marble basin--which I recognised as an ornament of the conservatory--where itusually stood, surrounded by exotics, and tenanted by gold fish--andwhence it must have been transported with some trouble, on accountof 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 darkeyes and swarthy skin and Paynim features suited the costumeexactly: he looked the very model of an Eastern emir, an agent or avictim of the bowstring. Presently advanced into view Miss Ingram.She, too, was attired in oriental fashion: a crimson scarf tiedsash-like round the waist: an embroidered handkerchief knottedabout her temples; her beautifully-moulded arms bare, one of themupraised in the act of supporting a pitcher, poised gracefully onher head. Both her cast of form and feature, her complexion and hergeneral air, suggested the idea of some Israelitish princess of thepatriarchal days; and such was doubtless the character she intendedto represent.

She approached the basin, and bent over it as if to fill herpitcher; she again lifted it to her head. The personage on thewell-brink now seemed to accost her; to make some request:- "Shehasted, 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 andshowed magnificent bracelets and earrings; she acted astonishmentand 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 herears. It was Eliezer and Rebecca: the camels only were wanting.

The divining party again laid their heads together: apparently theycould 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 wasdisclosed; the rest being concealed by a screen, hung with some sortof dark and coarse drapery. The marble basin was removed; in itsplace, stood a deal table and a kitchen chair: these objects werevisible by a very dim light proceeding from a horn lantern, the waxcandles being all extinguished.

Amidst this sordid scene, sat a man with his clenched hands restingon his knees, and his eyes bent on the ground. I knew Mr.Rochester; though the begrimed face, the disordered dress (his coathanging loose from one arm, as if it had been almost torn from hisback in a scuffle), the desperate and scowling countenance, therough, bristling hair might well have disguised him. As he moved, achain 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 resumetheir ordinary costume, they re-entered the dining-room. Mr.Rochester led in Miss Ingram; she was complimenting him on hisacting.

"Do you know," said she, "that, of the three characters, I liked youin the last best? Oh, had you but lived a few years earlier, what agallant gentleman-highwayman you would have made!"

"Is all the soot washed from my face?" he asked, turning it towardsher.

"Alas! yes: the more's the pity! Nothing could be more becoming toyour 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 anItalian bandit; and that could only be surpassed by a Levantinepirate."

"Well, whatever I am, remember you are my wife; we were married anhour 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 theother party withdrew, he and his band took the vacated seats. MissIngram placed herself at her leader's right hand; the other divinersfilled the chairs on each side of him and her. I did not now watchthe actors; I no longer waited with interest for the curtain torise; my attention was absorbed by the spectators; my eyes, erewhilefixed on the arch, were now irresistibly attracted to the semicircleof chairs. What charade Colonel Dent and his party played, whatword they chose, how they acquitted themselves, I no longerremember; but I still see the consultation which followed eachscene: I see Mr. Rochester turn to Miss Ingram, and Miss Ingram tohim; I see her incline her head towards him, till the jetty curlsalmost touch his shoulder and wave against his cheek; I hear theirmutual whisperings; I recall their interchanged glances; andsomething even of the feeling roused by the spectacle returns inmemory at this moment.

I have told you, reader, that I had learnt to love Mr. Rochester: Icould not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceasedto notice me--because I might pass hours in his presence, and hewould never once turn his eyes in my direction--because I saw allhis attentions appropriated by a great lady, who scorned to touch mewith the hem of her robes as she passed; who, if ever her dark andimperious eye fell on me by chance, would withdraw it instantly asfrom an object too mean to merit observation. I could not unlovehim, because I felt sure he would soon marry this very lady--becauseI read daily in her a proud security in his intentions respectingher--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, toengender jealousy: if a woman, in my position, could presume to bejealous of a woman in Miss Ingram's. But I was not jealous: orvery rarely;--the nature of the pain I suffered could not beexplained by that word. Miss Ingram was a mark beneath jealousy:she was too inferior to excite the feeling. Pardon the seemingparadox; I mean what I say. She was very showy, but she was notgenuine: she had a fine person, many brilliant attainments; but hermind was poor, her heart barren by nature: nothing bloomedspontaneously on that soil; no unforced natural fruit delighted byits freshness. She was not good; she was not original: she used torepeat sounding phrases from books: she never offered, nor had, anopinion of her own. She advocated a high tone of sentiment; but shedid not know the sensations of sympathy and pity; tenderness andtruth were not in her. Too often she betrayed this, by the unduevent she gave to a spiteful antipathy she had conceived againstlittle Adele: pushing her away with some contumelious epithet ifshe happened to approach her; sometimes ordering her from the room,and always treating her with coldness and acrimony. Other eyesbesides mine watched these manifestations of character--watched themclosely, keenly, shrewdly. Yes; the future bridegroom, Mr.Rochester himself, exercised over his intended a ceaselesssurveillance; and it was from this sagacity--this guardedness ofhis--this perfect, clear consciousness of his fair one's defects--this obvious absence of passion in his sentiments towards her, thatmy ever-torturing pain arose.

I saw he was going to marry her, for family, perhaps politicalreasons, because her rank and connections suited him; I felt he hadnot given her his love, and that her qualifications were ill adaptedto win from him that treasure. This was the point--this was wherethe nerve was touched and teased--this was where the fever wassustained and fed: SHE COULD NOT CHARM HIM.

If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded andsincerely laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face,turned to the wall, and (figuratively) have died to them. If MissIngram had been a good and noble woman, endowed with force, fervour,kindness, sense, I should have had one vital struggle with twotigers--jealousy and despair: then, my heart torn out and devoured,I should have admired her--acknowledged her excellence, and beenquiet for the rest of my days: and the more absolute hersuperiority, the deeper would have been my admiration--the moretruly tranquil my quiescence. But as matters really stood, to watchMiss Ingram's efforts at fascinating Mr. Rochester, to witness theirrepeated failure--herself unconscious that they did fail; vainlyfancying that each shaft launched hit the mark, and infatuatedlypluming herself on success, when her pride and self-complacencyrepelled further and further what she wished to allure--to witnessTHIS, was to be at once under ceaseless excitation and ruthlessrestraint.

Because, when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded.Arrows that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast andfell harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand,have quivered keen in his proud heart--have called love into hisstern 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 drawso 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 coinher smiles so lavishly, flash her glances so unremittingly,manufacture airs so elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems tome that she might, by merely sitting quietly at his side, sayinglittle and looking less, get nigher his heart. I have seen in hisface a far different expression from that which hardens it now whileshe is so vivaciously accosting him; but then it came of itself: itwas not elicited by meretricious arts and calculated manoeuvres; andone had but to accept it--to answer what he asked withoutpretension, to address him when needful without grimace--and itincreased and grew kinder and more genial, and warmed one like afostering sunbeam. How will she manage to please him when they aremarried? I do not think she will manage it; and yet it might bemanaged; and his wife might, I verily believe, be the very happiestwoman the sun shines on."

I have not yet said anything condemnatory of Mr. Rochester's projectof marrying for interest and connections. It surprised me when Ifirst discovered that such was his intention: I had thought him aman unlikely to be influenced by motives so commonplace in hischoice of a wife; but the longer I considered the position,education, &c., of the parties, the less I felt justified in judgingand blaming either him or Miss Ingram for acting in conformity toideas and principles instilled into them, doubtless, from theirchildhood. 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 tomy bosom only such a wife as I could love; but the very obviousnessof the advantages to the husband's own happiness offered by thisplan convinced me that there must be arguments against its generaladoption of which I was quite ignorant: otherwise I felt sure allthe world would act as I wished to act.

But in other points, as well as this, I was growing very lenient tomy master: I was forgetting all his faults, for which I had oncekept a sharp look-out. It had formerly been my endeavour to studyall sides of his character: to take the bad with the good; and fromthe just weighing of both, to form an equitable judgment. Now I sawno bad. The sarcasm that had repelled, the harshness that hadstartled me once, were only like keen condiments in a choice dish:their presence was pungent, but their absence would be felt ascomparatively insipid. And as for the vague something--was it asinister or a sorrowful, a designing or a desponding expression?--that opened upon a careful observer, now and then, in his eye, andclosed again before one could fathom the strange depth partiallydisclosed; that something which used to make me fear and shrink, asif I had been wandering amongst volcanic-looking hills, and hadsuddenly felt the ground quiver and seen it gape: that something,I, at intervals, beheld still; and with throbbing heart, but notwith palsied nerves. Instead of wishing to shun, I longed only todare--to divine it; and I thought Miss Ingram happy, because one dayshe might look into the abyss at her leisure, explore its secretsand 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 theirmovements of importance--the rest of the party were occupied withtheir own separate interests and pleasures. The Ladies Lynn andIngram continued to consort in solemn conferences, where they noddedtheir two turbans at each other, and held up their four hands inconfronting gestures of surprise, or mystery, or horror, accordingto the theme on which their gossip ran, like a pair of magnifiedpuppets. Mild Mrs. Dent talked with good-natured Mrs. Eshton; andthe two sometimes bestowed a courteous word or smile on me. SirGeorge Lynn, Colonel Dent, and Mr. Eshton discussed politics, orcounty affairs, or justice business. Lord Ingram flirted with AmyEshton; Louisa played and sang to and with one of the Messrs. Lynn;and Mary Ingram listened languidly to the gallant speeches of theother. Sometimes all, as with one consent, suspended their by-playto observe and listen to the principal actors: for, after all, Mr.Rochester and--because closely connected with him--Miss Ingram werethe life and soul of the party. If he was absent from the room anhour, a perceptible dulness seemed to steal over the spirits of hisguests; and his re-entrance was sure to give a fresh impulse to thevivacity of conversation.

The want of his animating influence appeared to be peculiarly feltone day that he had been summoned to Millcote on business, and wasnot likely to return till late. The afternoon was wet: a walk theparty had proposed to take to see a gipsy camp, lately pitched on acommon beyond Hay, was consequently deferred. Some of the gentlemenwere gone to the stables: the younger ones, together with theyounger ladies, were playing billiards in the billiard-room. Thedowagers 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 intoconversation, had first murmured over some sentimental tunes andairs on the piano, and then, having fetched a novel from thelibrary, had flung herself in haughty listlessness on a sofa, andprepared to beguile, by the spell of fiction, the tedious hours ofabsence. The room and the house were silent: only now and then themerriment of the billiard-players was heard from above.

It was verging on dusk, and the clock had already given warning ofthe hour to dress for dinner, when little Adele, who knelt by me inthe drawing-room window-seat, suddenly exclaimed -

"Voile, Monsieur Rochester, qui revient!"

I turned, and Miss Ingram darted forwards from her sofa: theothers, too, looked up from their several occupations; for at thesame time a crunching of wheels and a splashing tramp of horse-hoofsbecame 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 garmentsso near the window, that I was obliged to bend back almost to thebreaking of my spine: in her eagerness she did not observe me atfirst, but when she did, she curled her lip and moved to anothercasement. The post-chaise stopped; the driver rang the door-bell,and a gentleman alighted attired in travelling garb; but it was notMr. 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 givefalse intelligence?" and she cast on me an angry glance, as if Iwere in fault.

Some parleying was audible in the hall, and soon the new-comerentered. He bowed to Lady Ingram, as deeming her the eldest ladypresent.

"It appears I come at an inopportune time, madam," said he, "when myfriend, Mr. Rochester, is from home; but I arrive from a very longjourney, and I think I may presume so far on old and intimateacquaintance as to instal myself here till he returns."

His manner was polite; his accent, in speaking, struck me as beingsomewhat unusual,--not precisely foreign, but still not altogetherEnglish: his age might be about Mr. Rochester's,--between thirtyand forty; his complexion was singularly sallow: otherwise he was afine-looking man, at first sight especially. On closer examination,you detected something in his face that displeased, or rather thatfailed to please. His features were regular, but too relaxed: hiseye was large and well cut, but the life looking out of it was atame, vacant life--at least so I thought.

The sound of the dressing-bell dispersed the party. It was not tillafter dinner that I saw him again: he then seemed quite at hisease. But I liked his physiognomy even less than before: it struckme as being at the same time unsettled and inanimate. His eyewandered, and had no meaning in its wandering: this gave him an oddlook, such as I never remembered to have seen. For a handsome andnot an unamiable-looking man, he repelled me exceedingly: there wasno power in that smooth-skinned face of a full oval shape: nofirmness in that aquiline nose and small cherry mouth; there was nothought on the low, even forehead; no command in that blank, browneye.

As I sat in my usual nook, and looked at him with the light of thegirandoles on the mantelpiece beaming full over him--for he occupiedan arm-chair drawn close to the fire, and kept shrinking stillnearer, as if he were cold, I compared him with Mr. Rochester. Ithink (with deference be it spoken) the contrast could not be muchgreater between a sleek gander and a fierce falcon: between a meeksheep and the rough-coated keen-eyed dog, its guardian.

He had spoken of Mr. Rochester as an old friend. A curiousfriendship 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 timesscraps of their conversation across the room. At first I could notmake much sense of what I heard; for the discourse of Louisa Eshtonand Mary Ingram, who sat nearer to me, confused the fragmentarysentences that reached me at intervals. These last were discussingthe stranger; they both called him "a beautiful man." Louisa saidhe was "a love of a creature," and she "adored him;" and Maryinstanced his "pretty little mouth, and nice nose," as her ideal ofthe charming.

"And what a sweet-tempered forehead he has!" cried Louisa,--"sosmooth--none of those frowning irregularities I dislike so much; andsuch a placid eye and smile!"

And then, to my great relief, Mr. Henry Lynn summoned them to theother side of the room, to settle some point about the deferredexcursion to Hay Common.

I was now able to concentrate my attention on the group by the fire,and I presently gathered that the new-comer was called Mr. Mason;then I learned that he was but just arrived in England, and that hecame from some hot country: which was the reason, doubtless, hisface was so sallow, and that he sat so near the hearth, and wore asurtout in the house. Presently the words Jamaica, Kingston,Spanish Town, indicated the West Indies as his residence; and it waswith no little surprise I gathered, ere long, that he had therefirst seen and become acquainted with Mr. Rochester. He spoke ofhis friend's dislike of the burning heats, the hurricanes, and rainyseasons of that region. I knew Mr. Rochester had been a traveller:Mrs. Fairfax had said so; but I thought the continent of Europe hadbounded his wanderings; till now I had never heard a hint given ofvisits to more distant shores.

I was pondering these things, when an incident, and a somewhatunexpected one, broke the thread of my musings. Mr. Mason,shivering as some one chanced to open the door, asked for more coalto be put on the fire, which had burnt out its flame, though itsmass of cinder still shone hot and red. The footman who brought thecoal, in going out, stopped near Mr. Eshton's chair, and saidsomething 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 takeherself 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." Andspeaking aloud, he continued--"Ladies, you talked of going to HayCommon to visit the gipsy camp; Sam here says that one of the oldMother Bunches is in the servants' hall at this moment, and insistsupon being brought in before 'the quality,' to tell them theirfortunes. Would you like to see her?"

"Surely, colonel," cried Lady Ingram, "you would not encourage sucha 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-comer, and says nothing shall stir her from it till she gets leaveto come in here."

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

"'To tell the gentry their fortunes,' she says, ma'am; and sheswears 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 haveher in, of course."

"To be sure," rejoined his brother; "it would be a thousand pitiesto 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 voiceof Blanche, as she turned round on the piano-stool; where till nowshe had sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of music. "Ihave a curiosity to hear my fortune told: therefore, Sam, order thebeldame 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 ofraillery and jests was proceeding when Sam returned.

"She won't come now," said he. "She says it's not her mission toappear before the 'vulgar herd' (them's her words). I must show herinto a room by herself, and then those who wish to consult her mustgo to her one by one."

"You see now, my queenly Blanche," began Lady Ingram, "sheencroaches. 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 herdeither: I mean to have her all to myself. Is there a fire in thelibrary?"

"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 fullflow once more.

"She's ready now," said the footman, as he reappeared. "She wishesto know who will be her first visitor."

"I think I had better just look in upon her before any of the ladiesgo," 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 troublethemselves to come near her; nor," he added, with difficultysuppressing a titter, "any ladies either, except the young, andsingle."

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

Miss Ingram rose solemnly: "I go first," she said, in a tone whichmight have befitted the leader of a forlorn hope, mounting a breachin 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 doorwhich Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the library.

A comparative silence ensued. Lady Ingram thought it "le cas" towring her hands: which she did accordingly. Miss Mary declared shefelt, for her part, she never dared venture. Amy and Louisa Eshtontittered under their breath, and looked a little frightened.

The minutes passed very slowly: fifteen were counted before thelibrary-door again opened. Miss Ingram returned to us through thearch.

Would she laugh? Would she take it as a joke? All eyes met herwith a glance of eager curiosity, and she met all eyes with one ofrebuff and coldness; she looked neither flurried nor merry: shewalked 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: youseem, by the importance of you all--my good mama included--ascribeto this matter, absolutely to believe we have a genuine witch in thehouse, who is in close alliance with the old gentleman. I have seena gipsy vagabond; she has practised in hackneyed fashion the scienceof palmistry and told me what such people usually tell. My whim isgratified; and now I think Mr. Eshton will do well to put the hag inthe stocks to-morrow morning, as he threatened."

Miss Ingram took a book, leant back in her chair, and so declinedfurther conversation. I watched her for nearly half-an-hour:during all that time she never turned a page, and her face grewmomently darker, more dissatisfied, and more sourly expressive ofdisappointment. She had obviously not heard anything to heradvantage: and it seemed to me, from her prolonged fit of gloom andtaciturnity, that she herself, notwithstanding her professedindifference, attached undue importance to whatever revelations hadbeen made her.

Meantime, Mary Ingram, Amy and Louisa Eshton, declared they darednot go alone; and yet they all wished to go. A negotiation wasopened through the medium of the ambassador, Sam; and after muchpacing to and fro, till, I think, the said Sam's calves must haveached with the exercise, permission was at last, with greatdifficulty, extorted from the rigorous Sibyl, for the three to waitupon her in a body.

Their visit was not so still as Miss Ingram's had been: we heardhysterical giggling and little shrieks proceeding from the library;and at the end of about twenty minutes they burst the door open, andcame running across the hall, as if they were half-scared out oftheir 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 sankbreathless into the various seats the gentlemen hastened to bringthem.

Pressed for further explanation, they declared she had told them ofthings 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. Theyaffirmed that she had even divined their thoughts, and had whisperedin the ear of each the name of the person she liked best in theworld, and informed them of what they most wished for.

Here the gentlemen interposed with earnest petitions to be furtherenlightened on these two last-named points; but they got onlyblushes, ejaculations, tremors, and titters, in return for theirimportunity. The matrons, meantime, offered vinaigrettes andwielded fans; and again and again reiterated the expression of theirconcern that their warning had not been taken in time; and the eldergentlemen laughed, and the younger urged their services on theagitated fair ones.

In the midst of the tumult, and while my eyes and ears were fullyengaged in the scene before me, I heard a hem close at my elbow: Iturned, and saw Sam.

"If you please, miss, the gipsy declares that there is another youngsingle lady in the room who has not been to her yet, and she swearsshe 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 theunexpected opportunity to gratify my much-excited curiosity. Islipped out of the room, unobserved by any eye--for the company weregathered in one mass about the trembling trio just returned--and Iclosed the door quietly behind me.

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