To which the crone, with a highcauled cap, resembling Mother Hubbard, responded with a courtesy and Yes, m. Are all the trunks and boxes took up? They were. Well, well come now; and what shall I call you, Quince? Let me see. According to your pleasure, Miss, answered Mary, with dignity, and a dry courtesy. Why, youre as hoarse as a frog, Quince. Well call you Quinzy for the present. Thatll do. Come along, Quinzy. So my Cousin Milly took me under the arm, and pulled me forward; but as we ascended, she let me go, leaning back to make inspection of my attire from a new point of view. Hallo, cousin, she cried, giving my dress a smack with her open hand. What a plague do you want of all that bustle; youll leave it behind, lass, the first bush you jump over. I was a good deal astounded. I was also very near laughing, for there was a sort of importance in her plump countenance, and an indescribable grotesqueness in the fashion of her garments, which heightened the outlandishness of her talk, in a way which I cannot at all describe. What palatial wide stairs those were which we ascended, with their prodigious carved banisters of oak, and each huge pillar on the landingplace crowned with a shield and carved heraldic supporters; florid oak panelling covered the walls. But of the house I could form no estimate, for Uncle Silass housekeeping did not provide light for hall and passages, and we were dependent on the glimmer of a single candle; but there would be quite enough of this kind of exploration in the daylight. So along dark oak flooring we advanced to my room, and I had now an opportunity of admiring, at my leisure, the lordly proportions of the building. Two great windows, with dark and tarnished curtains, rose half as high again as the windows of Knowl; and yet Knowl, in its own style, is a fine house. The doorframes, like the windowframes, were richly carved; the fireplace was in the same massive style, and the mantelpiece projected with a mass of very rich carving. On the whole I was surprised. I had never slept in so noble a room before. The furniture, I must confess, was by no means on a par with the architectural pretensions of the apartment. A French bed, a piece of carpet about three yards square, a small table, two chairs, a toilet tableno wardrobeno chest of drawers. The furniture painted white, and of the light and diminutive kind, was particularly ill adapted to the scale and style of the apartment, one end only of which it occupied, and that but sparsely, leaving the rest of the chamber in the nakedness of a stately desolation. My cousin Milly ran away to report progress to the Governor, as she termed Uncle Silas. Well, Miss Maud, I never did expect to see the like o that! exclaimed honest Mary Quince, Did you ever see such a young lady? Shes no more like one o the family than I am. Law bless us! and whats she dressed like? Well, well, well! And Mary, with a rueful shake of her head, clicked her tongue pathetically to the back of her teeth, while I could not forbear laughing. And such a scrap o furniture! Well, well, well! and the same ticking of the tongue followed. But, in a few minutes, back came Cousin Milly, and, with a barbarous sort of curiosity, assisted in unpacking my trunks, and stowing away the treasures, on which she ventured a variety of admiring criticisms, in the presses which, like cupboards, filled recesses in the walls, with great oak doors, the keys of which were in them. As I was making my hurried toilet, she entertained me now and then with more strictly personal criticisms. Your hairs a shade darker than mineits none the better o that thoughis it? Mines said to be the right shade. I dont knowwhat do you say? I conceded the point with a good grace. I wish my hands was as white thoughyou do lick me there; but its all gloves, and I never could abide em. I think Ill try thoughthey are very white, sure. I wonder which is the prettiest, you or me? I dont know, Im surewhich do you think? I laughed outright at this challenge, and she blushed a little, and for the first time seemed for a moment a little shy. Well, you are a half an inch longer than me, I thinkdont you? I was fully an inch taller, so I had no difficulty in making the proposed admission. Well, you do look handsome! doesnt she, Quinzy, lass? but your frock comes down almost to your heelsit does. And she glanced from mine to hers, and made a little kick up with the heel of the navvy boot to assist her in measuring the comparative distance. Maybe mines a thought too short? she suggested. Whos there? Oh! its you, is it? she cried as Mother Hubbard appeared at the door. Come in, LAmourdont you know, lass, youre always welcome? She had come to let us know that Uncle Silas would be happy to see me whenever I was ready; and that my cousin Millicent would conduct me to the room where he awaited me. In an instant all the comic sensations awakened by my singular cousins eccentricities vanished, and I was thrilled with awe. I was about to see in the fleshfaded, broken, aged, but still identicalthat being who had been the vision and the problem of so many years of my short life. XXXII Uncle Silas I thought my odd cousin was also impressed with a kind of awe, though different in degree from mine, for a shade overcast her face, and she was silent as we walked side by side along the gallery, accompanied by the crone who carried the candle which lighted us to the door of that apartment which I may call Uncle Silass presence chamber. Milly whispered to me as we approached Mind how you make a noise; the governors as sharp as a weasel, and nothing vexes him like that. She was herself toppling along on tiptoe. We paused at a door near the head of the great staircase, and LAmour knocked timidly with her rheumatic knuckles. A voice, clear and penetrating, from within summoned us to enter. The old woman opened the door, and the next moment I was in the presence of Uncle Silas. At the far end of a handsome wainscoted room, near the hearth in which a low fire was burning, beside a small table on which stood four waxlights, in tall silver candlesticks, sat a singularlooking old man. The dark wainscoting behind him, and the vastness of the room, in the remoter parts of which the light which fell strongly upon his face and figure expended itself with hardly any effect, exhibited him with the forcible and strange relief of a finely painted Dutch portrait. For some time I saw nothing but him. A face like marble, with a fearful monumental look, and, for an old man, singularly vivid strange eyes, the singularity of which rather grew upon me as I looked; for his eyebrows were still black, though his hair descended from his temples in long locks of the purest silver and fine as silk, nearly to his shoulders. He rose, tall and slight, a little stooped, all in black, with an ample black velvet tunic, which was rather a gown than a coat, with loose sleeves, showing his snowy shirt some way up the arm, and a pair of wrist buttons, then quite out of fashion, which glimmered aristocratically with diamonds. I know I cant convey in words an idea of this apparition, drawn as it seemed in black and white, venerable, bloodless, fieryeyed, with its singular look of power, and an expression so bewilderingwas it derision, or anguish, or cruelty, or patience? The wild eyes of this strange old man were fixed upon me as he rose; an habitual contraction, which in certain lights took the character of a scowl, did not relax as he advanced toward me with his thinlipped smile. He said something in his clear, gentle, but cold voice, the import of which I was too much agitated to catch, and he took both my hands in his, welcomed me with a courtly grace which belonged to another age, and led me affectionately, with many inquiries which I only half comprehended, to a chair near his own. I need not introduce my daughter; she has saved me that mortification. Youll find her, I believe, goodnatured and affectionate; au reste, I fear a very rustic Miranda, and fitted rather for the society of Caliban than of a sick old Prospero. Is it not so, Millicent? The old man paused sarcastically for an answer, with his eyes fixed severely on my odd cousin, who blushed and looked uneasily to me for a hint. I dont know who they beneither one nor tother. Very good, my dear, he replied, with a little mocking bow. You see, my dear Maud, what a Shakespearean you have got for a cousin. Its plain, however, she has made acquaintance with some of our dramatists she has studied the role of Miss Hoyden so perfectly. It was not a reasonable peculiarity of my uncle that he resented, with a good deal of playful acrimony, my poor cousins want of education, for which, if he were not to blame, certainly neither was she. You see her, poor thing, a result of all the combined disadvantages of want of refined education, refined companionship, and, I fear, naturally, of refined tastes; but a sojourn at a good French conventual school will do wonders, and I hope to manage byandby. In the meantime we jest at our misfortunes, and love one another, I hope, cordially. He extended his thin, white hand with a chilly smile towards Milly, who bounced up, and took it with a frightened look; and he repeated, holding her hand rather slightly I thought, Yes, I hope, very cordially, and then turning again to me, he put it over the arm of his chair, and let it go, as a man might drop something he did not want from a carriage window. Having made this apology for poor Milly, who was plainly bewildered, he passed on, to her and my relief, to other topics, every now and then expressing his fears that I was fatigued, and his anxiety that I should partake of some supper or tea; but these solicitudes somehow seemed to escape his remembrance almost as soon as uttered; and he maintained the conversation, which soon degenerated into a close, and to me a painful examination, respecting my dear fathers illness and its symptoms, upon which I could give no information, and his habits, upon which I could. Perhaps he fancied that there might be some family predisposition to the organic disease of which his brother died, and that his questions were directed rather to the prolonging of his own life than to the better understanding of my dear fathers death. How little was there left to this old man to make life desirable, and yet how keenly, I afterwards found, he clung to it. Have we not all of us seen those to whom life was not only undesirable, but positively painfula mere series of bodily torments, yet hold to it with a desperate and pitiable tenacityold children or young, it is all the same. See how a sleepy child will put off the inevitable departure for bed. The little creatures eyes blink and stare, and it needs constant jogging to prevent his nodding off into the slumber which nature craves. His waking is a pain; he is quite worn out, and peevish, and stupid, and yet he implores a respite, and deprecates repose, and vows he is not sleepy, even to the moment when his mother takes him in her arms, and carries him, in a sweet slumber, to the nursery. So it is with us old children of earth and the great sleep of death, and nature our kind mother. Just so reluctantly we part with consciousness, the picture is, even to the last, so interesting; the bird in the hand, though sick and moulting, so inestimably better than all the brilliant tenants of the bush. We sit up, yawning, and blinking, and stupid, the whole scene swimming before us, and the stories and music humming off into the sound of distant winds and waters. It is not time yet; we are not fatigued; we are good for another hour still, and so protesting against bed, we falter and drop into the dreamless sleep which nature assigns to fatigue and satiety. He then spoke a little eulogy of his brother, very polished, and, indeed, in a kind of way, eloquent. He possessed in a high degree that accomplishment, too little cultivated, I think, by the present generation, of expressing himself with perfect precision and fluency. There was, too, a good deal of slight illustrative quotation, and a sprinkling of French flowers, over his conversation, which gave to it a character at once elegant and artificial. It was all easy, light, and pointed, and being quite new to me, had a wonderful fascination. He then told me that Bartram was the temple of liberty, that the health of a whole life was founded in a few years of youth, air, and exercise, and that accomplishments, at least, if not education, should wait upon health. Therefore, while at Bartram, I should dispose of my time quite as I pleased, and the more I plundered the garden and gipsied in the woodlands, the better. Then he told me what a miserable invalid he was, and how the doctors interfered with his frugal tastes. A glass of beer and a mutton chophis ideal of a dinnerhe dared not touch. They made him drink light wines, which he detested, and live upon those artificial abominations all liking for which vanishes with youth. There stood on a sidetable, in its silver coaster, a longnecked Rhenish bottle, and beside it a thin pink glass, and he quivered his fingers in a peevish way toward them. But unless he found himself better very soon, he would take his case into his own hands, and try the dietary to which nature pointed. He waved his fingers toward his bookcases, and told me his books were altogether at my service during my stay; but this promise ended, I must confess, disappointingly. At last, remarking that I must be fatigued, he rose, and kissed me with a solemn tenderness, placed his hand upon what I now perceived to be a large Bible, with two broad silk markers, red and gold, folded in itthe one, I might conjecture, indicating the place in the Old, the other in the New Testament. It stood on the small table that supported the waxlights, with a handsome cut bottle of eaudecologne, his gold and jewelled pencilcase, and his chased repeater, chain, and seals, beside it. There certainly were no indications of poverty in Uncle Silass room; and he said impressively Remember that book; in it your father placed his trust, in it he found his reward, in it lives my only hope; consult it, my beloved niece, day and night, as the oracle of life. Then he laid his thin hand on my head, and blessed me, and then kissed my forehead. Noa! exclaimed Cousin Millys lusty voice. I had quite forgotten her presence, and looked at her with a little start. She was seated on a very high oldfashioned chair; she had palpably been asleep; her round eyes were blinking and staring glassily at us; and her white legs and navvy boots were dangling in the air. Have you anything to remark about Noah? enquired her father, with a polite inclination and an ironical interest. Noa, she repeated in the same blunt accents; I didnt snore; did I? Noa. The old man smiled and shrugged a little at meit was the smile of disgust. Good night, my dear Maud; and turning to her, he said, with a peculiar gentle sharpness, Had not you better wake, my dear, and try whether your cousin would like some supper? So he accompanied us to the door, outside which we found LAmours candle awaiting us. Im awful afraid of the Governor, I am. Did I snore that time? No, dear; at least, I did not hear it, I said, unable to repress a smile. Well, if I didnt, I was awful near it, she said, reflectively. We found poor Mary Quince dozing over the fire; but we soon had tea and other good things, of which Milly partook with a wonderful appetite. I was in a qualm about it, said Milly, who by this time was quite herself again. When he spies me anapping, maybe he dont fetch me a prod with his pencilcase over the head. Odd! girl, it is sore. When I contrasted the refined and fluent old gentleman whom I had just left, with this amazing specimen of young ladyhood, I grew sceptical almost as to the possibility of her being his child. I was to learn, however, how little she had, I wont say of his society, but even of his presencethat she had no domestic companion of the least pretensions to educationthat she ran wild about the placenever, except in church, so much as saw a person of that rank to which she was bornand that the little she knew of reading and writing had been picked up, in desultory halfhours, from a person who did not care a pin about her manners or decorum, and perhaps rather enjoyed her grotesquenessand that no one who was willing to take the least trouble about her was competent to make her a particle more refined than I saw herthe wonder ceased. We dont know how little is heritable, and how much simply training, until we encounter somesuch spectacle as that of my poor cousin Milly. When I lay down in my bed and reviewed the day, it seemed like a month of wonders. Uncle Silas was always before me; the voice so silvery for an old manso preternaturally soft; the manners so sweet, so gentle; the aspect, smiling, suffering, spectral. It was no longer a shadow; I had now seen him in the flesh. But, after all, was he more than a shadow to me? When I closed my eyes I saw him before me still, in necromantic black, ashy with a pallor on which I looked with fear and pain, a face so dazzlingly pale, and those hollow, fiery, awful eyes! It sometimes seemed as if the curtain opened, and I had seen a ghost. I had seen him; but he was still an enigma and a marvel. The living face did not expound the past, any more than the portrait portended the future. He was still a mystery and a vision; and thinking of these things I fell asleep. Mary Quince, who slept in the dressingroom, the door of which was close to my bed, and lay open to secure me against ghosts, called me up; and the moment I knew where I was I jumped up, and peeped eagerly from the window. It commanded the avenue and courtyard; but we were many windows removed from that over the halldoor, and immediately beneath ours lay the two giant lime trees, prostrate and uprooted, which I had observed as we drove up the night before. I saw more clearly in the bright light of morning the signs of neglect and almost of dilapidation which had struck me as I approached. The courtyard was tufted over with grass, seldom from year to year crushed by the carriagewheels, or trodden by the feet of visitors. This melancholy verdure thickened where the area was more remote from the centre; and under the windows, and skirting the walls to the left, was reinforced by a thick grove of nettles. The avenue was all grassgrown, except in the very centre, where a narrow track still showed the roadway. The handsome carved balustrade of the courtyard was discoloured with lichens, and in two places gapped and broken; and the air of decay was heightened by the fallen trees, among whose sprays and yellow leaves the small birds were hopping. Before my toilet was completed, in marched my cousin Milly. We were to breakfast alone that morning, and so much the better, she told me. Sometimes the Governor ordered her to breakfast with him, and never left off chaffing her till his newspaper came, and sometimes he said such things he made her cry, and then he only boshed her more, and packed her away to her room; but she was by chalks nicer than him, talk as he might. Was not she nicer? was not she? was not she? Upon this point she was so strong and urgent that I was obliged to reply by a protest against awarding the palm of elegance between parent and child, and declaring I liked her very much, which I attested by a kiss. I know right well which of us you do thinks the nicest, and no mistake, only youre afraid of him; and he had no business boshing me last night before you. I knew he was at it, though I couldnt twig him altogether; but wasnt he a sneak, now, wasnt he? This was a still more awkward question; so I kissed her again, and said she must never ask me to say of my uncle in his absence anything I could not say to his face. At which speech she stared at me for a while, and then treated me to one of her hearty laughs, after which she seemed happier, and gradually grew into better humour with her father. Sometimes, when the curate calls, he has me upfor hes as religious as six, he isand they read Bible and prays, hodont they? Youll have that, lass, like me, to go through; and maybe I dont hate it; oh, no! We breakfasted in a small room, almost a closet, off the great parlour, which was evidently quite disused. Nothing could be homelier than our equipage, or more shabby than the furniture of the little apartment. Still, somehow, I liked it. It was a total change; but one likes roughing it a little at first. XXXIII The Windmill Wood I had not time to explore this noble old house as my curiosity prompted; for Milly was in such a fuss to set out for the blackberry dell that I saw little more than just so much as I necessarily traversed in making my way to and from my room. The actual decay of the house had been prevented by my dear father; and the roof, windows, masonry, and carpentry had all been kept in repair. But short of indications of actual ruin, there are many manifestations of poverty and neglect which impress with a feeling of desolation. It was plain that not nearly a tithe of this great house was inhabited; long corridors and galleries stretched away in dust and silence, and were crossed by others, whose dark arches inspired me in the distance with an awful sort of sadness. It was plainly one of those great structures in which you might easily lose yourself, and with a pleasing terror it reminded me of that delightful old abbey in Mrs. Radcliffes romance, among whose silent staircases, dim passages, and long suites of lordly, but forsaken chambers, begirt without by the sombre forest, the family of La Mote secured a gloomy asylum. My cousin Milly and I, however, were bent upon an openair ramble, and traversing several passages, she conducted me to a door which led us out upon a terrace overgrown with weeds, and by a broad flight of steps we descended to the level of the grounds beneath. Then on, over the short grass, under the noble trees, we walked; Milly in high goodhumour, and talking away volubly, in her short garment, navvy boots, and a weatherbeaten hat. She carried a stick in her gloveless hand. Her conversation was quite new to me, and resembled very much what I would have fancied the holiday recollections of a schoolboy; and the language in which it was sustained was sometimes so outlandish, that I was forced to laugh outrighta demonstration which she plainly did not like. Her talk was about the great jumps she had madehow she snowballed the chaps in winterhow she could slide twice the length of her stick beyond Briddles, the cowboy. With this and similar conversation she entertained me. The grounds were delightfully wild and neglected. But we had now passed into a vast park beautifully varied with hollows and uplands, and such glorious old timber massed and scattered over its slopes and levels. Among these, we got at last into a picturesque dingle; the grey rocks peeped from among the ferns and wild flowers, and the steps of soft sward along its sides were dark in the shadows of silverstemmed birch, and russet thorn, and oak, under which, in the vaporous night, the Erlking and his daughter might glide on their aerial horses. In the lap of this pleasant dell were the finest blackberry bushes, I think, I ever saw, bearing fruit quite fabulous; and plucking these, and chatting, we rambled on very pleasantly. I had first thought of Millys absurdities, to which, in description, I cannot do justice, simply because so many details have, by distance of time, escaped my recollection. But her ways and her talk were so indescribably grotesque that she made me again and again quiver with suppressed laughter. But there was a pitiable and even a melancholy meaning underlying the burlesque. This creature, with no more education than a dairymaid, I gradually discovered had fine natural aptitudes for accomplishmenta very sweet voice, and wonderfully delicate ear, and a talent for drawing which quite threw mine into the shade. It was really astonishing. Poor Milly, in all her life, had never read three books, and hated to think of them. One, over which she was wont to yawn and sigh, and stare fatiguedly for an hour every Sunday, by command of the Governor, was a stout volume of sermons of the earlier school of George III, and a drier collection you cant fancy. I dont think she read anything else. But she had, notwithstanding, ten times the cleverness of half the circulating library misses one meets with. Besides all this, I had a long sojourn before me at BartramHaugh, and I had learned from Milly, as I had heard before, what a perennial solitude it was, with a ludicrous fear of learning Millys preposterous dialect, and turning at last into something like her. So I resolved to do all I could for herteach her whatever I knew, if she would allow meand gradually, if possible, effect some civilising changes in her language, and, as they term it in boardingschools, her demeanour. But I must pursue at present our first days ramble in what was called Bartram Chase. People cant go on eating blackberries always; so after a while we resumed our walk along this pretty dell, which gradually expanded into a wooded valleylevel beneath and enclosed by irregular uplands, receding, as it were, in mimic bays and harbours at some points, and running out at others into broken promontories, ending in clumps of forest trees. Just where the glen which we had been traversing expanded into this broad, but wooded valley, it was traversed by a high and close paling, which, although it looked decayed, was still very strong. In this there was a wooden gate, rudely but strongly constructed, and at the side we were approaching stood a girl, who was leaning against the post, with one arm resting on the top of the gate. This girl was neither tall nor shorttaller than she looked at a distance; she had not a slight waist; sooty black was her hair, with a broad forehead, perpendicular but low; she had a pair of very fine, dark, lustrous eyes, and no other good featureunless I may so call her teeth, which were very white and even. Her face was rather short, and swarthy as a gipsys; observant and sullen too; and she did not move, only eyed us negligently from under her dark lashes as we drew near. Altogether a not unpicturesque figure, with a dusky, red petticoat of drugget, and tattered jacket of bottlegreen stuff, with short sleeves, which showed her brown arms from the elbow. Thats Pegtops daughter, said Milly. Who is Pegtop? I asked. Hes the millersee, yonder it is, and she pointed to a very pretty feature in the landscape, a windmill, crowning the summit of a hillock which rose suddenly above the level of the treetops, like an island in the centre of the valley. The mill not going today, Beauty? bawled Milly. Noa, Beauty; it baint, replied the girl, loweringly, and without stirring. And whats gone with the stile? demanded Milly, aghast. Its tore away from the paling! Well, so it be, replied the wood nymph in the red petticoat, showing her fine teeth with a lazy grin. Whos a bin and done all that? demanded Milly. Not you nor me, lass, said the girl.  Twas old Pegtop, your father, did it, cried Milly, in rising wrath. Appen it wor, she replied. And the gate locked. Thats itthe gate locked, she repeated, sulkily, with a defiant sideglance at Milly. And wheres Pegtop? At tother side, somewhere; how should I know where he be? she replied. Whos got the key? Here it be, lass, she answered, striking her hand on her pocket. And how durst you stay us here? Unlock it, hussy, this minute! cried Milly, with a stamp. Her answer was a sullen smile. Open the gate this instant! bawled Milly. Well, I wont. I expected that Milly would have flown into a frenzy at this direct defiance, but she looked instead puzzled and curiousthe girls unexpected audacity bewildered her. Why, you fool, I could get over the paling as soon as look at you, but I wont. Whats come over you? Open the gate, I say, or Ill make you. Do let her alone, dear, I entreated, fearing a mutual assault. She has been ordered, may be, not to open it. Is it so, my good girl? Well, thourt not the biggest fool o the two, she observed, commendatively, thoust hit it, lass. And who ordered you? exclaimed Milly. Fayther. Old Pegtop. Well, thats summat to laugh at, it isour servant ashutting us out of our own grounds. No servant o yourn! Come, lass, what do you mean? He be old Silass miller, and whats that to thee? With these words the girl made a spring on the hasp of the padlock, and then got easily over the gate. Cant you do that, cousin? whispered Milly to me, with an impatient nudge. I wish youd try. No, dearcome away, Milly, and I began to withdraw. Lookee, lass, twill be an ill days work for thee when I tell the Governor, said Milly, addressing the girl, who stood on a log of timber at the other side, regarding us with a sullen composure. Well be over in spite o you, cried Milly. You lie! answered she. And why not, hussy? demanded my cousin, who was less incensed at the affront than I expected. All this time I was urging Milly in vain to come away. Yon lass is no wild cat, like theethats why, said the sturdy portress. If I cross, Ill give you a knock, said Milly. And Ill gi thee another, she answered, with a vicious wag of the head. Come, Milly, Ill go if you dont, I said. But we must not be beat, whispered she, vehemently, catching my arm; and ye shall get over, and see what I will gi her! Ill not get over. Then Ill break the door, for ye shall come through, exclaimed Milly, kicking the stout paling with her ponderous boot. Purr it, purr it, purr it! cried the lass in the red petticoat with a grin. Do you know who this lady is? cried Milly, suddenly. She is a prettier lass than thou, answered Beauty. Shes my cousin MaudMiss Ruthyn of Knowland shes a deal richer than the Queen; and the Governors taking care of her; and hell make old Pegtop bring you to reason. The girl eyed me with a sulky listlessness, a little inquisitively, I thought. See if he dont, threatened Milly. You positively must come, I said, drawing her away with me. Well, shall we come in? cried Milly, trying a last summons. Youll not come in that much, she answered, surlily, measuring an infinitesimal distance on her finger with her thumb, which she pinched against it, the gesture ending with a snap of defiance, and a smile that showed her fine teeth. Ive a mind to shy a stone at you, shouted Milly. Faire away; Ill shy wi ye as long as ye like, lass; take heed o yerself; and Beauty picked up a round stone as large as a cricket ball. With difficulty I got Milly away without an exchange of missiles, and much disgusted at my want of zeal and agility. Well, come along, cousin, I know an easy way by the river, when its low, answered Milly. Shes a bruteis not she? As we receded, we saw the girl slowly wending her way towards the old thatched cottage, which showed its gable from the side of a little rugged eminence embowered in spreading trees, and dangling and twirling from its string on the end of her finger the key for which a battle had so nearly been fought. The stream was low enough to make our flank movement round the end of the paling next it quite easy, and so we pursued our way, and Millys equanimity returned, and our ramble grew very pleasant again. Our path lay by the river bank, and as we proceeded, the dwarf timber was succeeded by grander trees, which crowded closer and taller, and, at last, the scenery deepened into solemn forest, and a sudden sweep in the river revealed the beautiful ruin of a steep old bridge, with the fragments of a gatehouse on the farther side. Oh, Milly darling! I exclaimed, what a beautiful drawing this would make! I should so like to make a sketch of it. So it would. Make a picturedo!heres a stone thats pure and flat to sit upon, and you look very tired.


Do make it, and Ill sit by you. Yes, Milly, I am tired, a little, and I will sit down; but we must wait for another day to make the picture, for we have neither pencil nor paper. But it is much too pretty to be lost; so let us come again tomorrow. Tomorrow be hanged! youll do it today, burymewick, but you shall; Im wearying to see you make a picture, and Ill fetch your conundrums out o your drawer, for do t you shall. XXXIV Zamiel It was all vain my remonstrating. She vowed that by crossing the steppingstones close by she could, by a shortcut, reach the house, and return with my pencils and blockbook in a quarter of an hour. Away then, with many a jump and fling, scampered Millys queer white stockings and navvy boots across the irregular and precarious steppingstones, over which I dared not follow her; so I was fain to return to the stone so pure and flat, on which I sat, enjoying the grand sylvan solitude, the dark background and the grey bridge midway, so tall and slim, across whose ruins a sunbeam glimmered, and the gigantic forest trees that slumbered round, opening here and there in dusky vistas, and breaking in front into detached and solemn groups. It was the setting of a dream of romance. It would have been the very spot in which to read a volume of German folklore, and the darkening colonnades and silent nooks of the forest seemed already haunted with the voices and shadows of those charming elves and goblins. As I sat here enjoying the solitude and my fancies among the low branches of the wood, at my right I heard a crashing, and saw a squat broad figure in a stained and tattered military coat, and loose short trousers, one limb of which flapped about a wooden leg. He was forcing himself through. His face was rugged and wrinkled, and tanned to the tint of old oak; his eyes black, beadlike, and fierce, and a shock of sooty hair escaped from under his battered wideawake nearly to his shoulders. This forbiddinglooking person came stumping and jerking along toward me, whisking his stick now and then viciously in the air, and giving his fell of hair a short shake, like a wild bull preparing to attack. I stood up involuntarily with a sense of fear and surprise, almost fancying I saw in that woodenlegged old soldier, the forest demon who haunted Der Freischtz. So he approached shouting Hollo! youhow came you here? Dost eer? And he drew near panting, and sometimes tugging angrily in his haste at his wooden leg, which sunk now and then deeper than was convenient in the sod. This exertion helped to anger him, and when he halted before me, his dark face smirched with smoke and dust, and the nostrils of his flat drooping nose expanded and quivered as he panted, like the gills of a fish; an angrier or uglier face it would not be easy to fancy. Yell all come when ye like, will ye? and do nout but what pleases yourselves, wont you? And whort thou? Dost eerwho are ye, I say; and what the deil seek ye in the woods here? Come, bestir thee! If his wide mouth and great tobaccostained teeth, his scowl, and loud discordant tones were intimidating, they were also extremely irritating. The moment my spirit was roused, my courage came. I am Miss Ruthyn of Knowl, and Mr. Silas Ruthyn, your master, is my uncle. Hoo! he exclaimed more gently, an if Silas be thy uncle thoult be come to live wi him, and thourt she as come overnighteh? I made no answer, but I believe I looked both angrily and disdainfully. And what make ye alone here? and how was I to know t, an Milly not wi ye, nor no one? But Maud or no Maud, I wouldnt let the Dooke hisself set foot inside the palin without Silas said let him. And you may tell Silas thems the words o Dickon Hawkes, and Ill stick to mand whats more Ill tell him myselfI will; Ill tell him there be no use o my striving and straining hee, day an night and night and day, watchin again poachers, and thieves, and gipsies, and they robbing lads, if rules wont be kep, and folk do jist as they pleases. Dang it, lass, thourt in luck I didnt heave a brick at thee when I saw thee first. Ill complain of you to my uncle, I replied. So do, and appen thoult find thyself in the wrong box, lass; thou canst na say I set the dogs arter thee, nor caud thee so much as a wry name, nor heave a stone at theedid I? Well? and wheres the complaint then? I simply answered, rather fiercely, Be good enough to leave me. Well, I make no objections, mind. Im takin thy wordthourt Maud Ruthynappen thou best and appen thou baint. Im not aweer ont, but I takes thy word, and all I want to knows just this, did Meg open the gate to thee? I made him no answer, and to my great relief I saw Milly striding and skipping across the unequal steppingstones. Hallo, Pegtop! what are you after now? she cried, as she drew near. This man has been extremely impertinent. You know him, Milly? I said. Why thats Pegtop Dickon. Dirty old Hawkes that never was washed. I tell you, lad, yell see what the Governor thinks otaha! Hell talk to you. I done or said noutnot but I should, and theres the fackshe cant denyt; she hadnt a hard word from I; and I dont care the top o that thistle what no one saysnot I. But I tell thee, Milly, I stopped some o thy pranks, and Ill stop more. Yell be shying no more stones at the cattle. Tell your tales, and welcome, cried Milly. I wish I was here when you jawed cousin. If Winny was here shed catch you by the timber toe and put you on your back. Ay, shell be a good un yet if she takes arter thee, retorted the old man with a fierce sneer. Drop it, and get away wi ye, cried she, or maybe Id call Winny to smash your timber leg for you. Aha! theres more ont. Shes a sweet un. Isnt she? he replied sardonically. You did not like it last Easter, when Winny broke it with a kick.  Twas a kick o a horse, he growled with a glance at me.  Twas no such thingtwas Winny did itand he laid on his back for a week while carpenter made him a new one. And Milly laughed hilariously. Ill fool no more wi ye, losing my time; I wont; but mind ye, Ill speak wi Silas. And going away he put his hand to his crumpled wideawake, and said to me with a surly difference Good evening, Miss Ruthyngood evening, maamand yell please remember, I did not mean nout to vex thee. And so he swaggered away, jerking and waddling over the sward, and was soon lost in the wood. Its well hes a little bit frightenedI never saw him so angry, I think; he is awful mad. Perhaps he really is not aware how very rude he is, I suggested. I hate him. We were twice as pleasant with poor Tom Driverhe never meddled with anyone, and was always in liquor; Old Gin was the name he went by. But this bruteI do hate himhe comes from Wigan, I think, and hes always spoiling sportand he whops Megthats Beauty, you know, and I dont think shed be half as bad only for him. Listen to him whistlin. I did hear whistling at some distance among the trees. I declare if he isnt callin the dogs! Climb up here, I tell ye, and we climbed up the slanting trunk of a great walnut tree, and strained our eyes in the direction from which we expected the onset of Pegtops vicious pack. But it was a false alarm. Well, I dont think he would do that, after allhardly; but he is a brute, sure! And that dark girl who would not let us through, is his daughter, is she? Yes, thats MegBeauty, I christened her, when I called him Beast; but I call him Pegtop now, and shes Beauty still, and thats the way ot. Come, sit down now, an make your picture, she resumed so soon as we had dismounted from our position of security. Im afraid Im hardly in the vein. I dont think I could draw a straight line. My hand trembles. I wish you could, Maud, said Milly, with a look so wistful and entreating, that considering the excursion she had made for the pencils, I could not bear to disappoint her. Well, Milly, we must only try; and if we fail we cant help it. Sit you down beside me and Ill tell you why I begin with one part and not another, and youll see how I make trees and the river, andyes, that pencil, it is hard and answers for the fine light lines; but we must begin at the beginning, and learn to copy drawings before we attempt real views like this. And if you wish it, Milly, Im resolved to teach you everything I know, which, after all, is not a great deal, and we shall have such fun making sketches of the same landscapes, and then comparing. And so on, Milly, quite delighted, and longing to begin her course of instruction, sat down beside me in a rapture, and hugged and kissed me so heartily that we were very near rolling together off the stone on which we were seated. Her boisterous delight and goodnature helped to restore me, and both laughing heartily together, I commenced my task. Dear me! whos that? I exclaimed suddenly, as looking up from my blockbook I saw the figure of a slight man in the careless morningdress of a gentleman, crossing the ruinous bridge in our direction, with considerable caution, upon the precarious footing of the battlement, which alone offered an unbroken passage. This was a day of apparitions! Milly recognised him instantly. The gentleman was Mr. Carysbroke. He had taken The Grange only for a year. He lived quite to himself, and was very good to the poor, and was the only gentleman, for ever so long, who had visited at Bartram, and oddly enough nowhere else. But he wanted leave to cross through the grounds, and having obtained it, had repeated his visit, partly induced, no doubt, by the fact that Bartram boasted no hospitalities, and that there was no risk of meeting the county folk there. With a stout walkingstick in his hand, and a short shootingcoat, and a wideawake hat in much better trim than Zamiels, he emerged from the copse that covered the bridge, walking at a quick but easy pace. Hell be goin to see old Snoddles, I guess, said Milly, looking a little frightened and curious; for Milly, I need not say, was a bumpkin, and stood in awe of this gentlemans goodbreeding, though she was as brave as a lion, and would have fought the Philistines at any odds, with the jawbone of an ass.  Appen he wont see us, whispered Milly, hopefully. But he did, and raising his hat, with a cheerful smile, that showed very white teeth, he paused. Charming day, Miss Ruthyn. I raised my head suddenly as he spoke, from habit appropriating the address; it was so marked that he raised his hat respectfully to me, and then continued to Milly Mr. Ruthyn, I hope, quite well? but I need hardly ask, you seem so happy. Will you kindly tell him, that I expect the book I mentioned in a day or two, and when it comes Ill either send or bring it to him immediately? Milly and I were standing, by this time, but she only stared at him, tonguetied, her cheeks rather flushed, and her eyes very round, and to facilitate the dialogue, as I suppose, he said again Hes quite well, I hope? Still no response from Milly, and I, provoked, though myself a little shy, made answer My uncle, Mr. Ruthyn, is very well, thank you, and I felt that I blushed as I spoke. Ah, pray excuse me, may I take a great liberty? you are Miss Ruthyn, of Knowl? Will you think me very impertinentIm afraid you willif I venture to introduce myself? My name is Carysbroke, and I had the honour of knowing poor Mr. Ruthyn when I was quite a little boy, and he has shown a kindness for me since, and I hope you will pardon the liberty I fear Ive taken. I think my friend, Lady Knollys, too, is a relation of yours; what a charming person she is! Oh, is not she? such a darling! I said, and then blushed at my outspoken affection. But he smiled kindly, as if he liked me for it; and he said You know whatever I think, I dare not quite say that; but frankly I can quite understand it. She preserves her youth so wonderfully, and her fun and her goodnature are so entirely girlish. What a sweet view you have selected, he continued, changing all at once. Ive stood just at this point so often to look back at that exquisite old bridge. Do you observeyoure an artist, I seesomething very peculiar in that tint of the grey, with those odd cross stains of faded red and yellow? I do, indeed; I was just remarking the peculiar beauty of the colouringwas not I, Milly? Milly stared at me, and uttered an alarmed Yes, and looked as if she had been caught in a robbery. Yes, and you have so very peculiar a background, he resumed. It was better before the storm though; but it is very good still. Then a little pause, and Do you know this country at all? rather suddenly. No, not in the leastthat is, Ive only had the drive to this place; but what I did see interested me very much. You will be charmed with it when you know it betterthe very place for an artist. Im a wretched scribbler myself, and I carry this little book in my pocket, and he laughed deprecatingly while he drew forth a thin fishingbook, as it looked. They are mere memoranda, you see. I walk so much and come unexpectedly on such pretty nooks and studies, I just try to make a note of them, but it is really more writing than sketching; my sister says it is a cipher which nobody but myself understands. However, Ill try and explain just twobecause you really ought to go and see the places. Oh, no; not that, he laughed, as accidentally the page blew over, thats the Cat and Fiddle, a curious little pothouse, where they gave me some very good ale one day. Milly at this exhibited some uneasy tokens of being about to speak, but not knowing what might be coming, I hastened to observe on the spirited little sketches to which he meant to draw my attention. I want to show you only the places within easy reacha short ride or drive. So he proceeded to turn over two or three, in addition to the two he had at first proposed, and then another; then a little sketch just tinted, and really quite a charming little gem, of Cousin Monicas pretty gabled old house; and every subject had its little criticism, or its narrative, or adventure. As he was about returning this little sketchbook to his pocket, still chatting to me, he suddenly recollected poor Milly, who was looking rather lowering; but she brightened a good deal as he presented it to her, with a little speech which she palpably misunderstood, for she made one of her odd courtesies, and was about, I thought, to put it into her large pocket, and accept it as a present. Look at the drawings, Milly, and then return it, I whispered. At his request I allowed him to look at my unfinished sketch of the bridge, and while he was measuring distances and proportions with his eye, Milly whispered rather angrily to me. And why should I? Because he wants it back, and only meant to lend it to you, whispered I. Lend it to meand after you! Burymewick if I look at a leaf of it, she retorted in high dudgeon. Take it, lass; give it him yourselfIll not, and she popped it into my hand, and made a sulky step back. My cousin is very much obliged, I said, returning the book, and smiling for her, and he took it smiling also and said I think if I had known how very well you draw, Miss Ruthyn, I should have hesitated about showing you my poor scrawls. But these are not my best, you know; Lady Knollys will tell you that I can really do bettera great deal better, I think. And then with more apologies for what he called his impertinence, he took his leave, and I felt altogether very much pleased and flattered. He could not be more than twentynine or thirty, I thought, and he was decidedly handsomethat is, his eyes and teeth, and clear brown complexion wereand there was something distinguished and graceful in his figure and gesture; and altogether there was the indescribable attraction of intelligence; and I fanciedthough this, of course, was a secretthat from the moment he spoke to us he felt an interest in me. I am not going to be vain. It was a grave interest, but still an interest, for I could see him studying my features while I was turning over his sketches, and he thought I saw nothing else. It was flattering, too, his anxiety that I should think well of his drawing, and referring me to Lady Knollys. Carysbrokehad I ever heard my dear father mention that name? I could not recollect it. But then he was habitually so silent, that his not doing so argued nothing. XXXV We Visit a Room in the Second Storey Mr. Carysbroke amused my fancy sufficiently to prevent my observing Millys silence, till we had begun our return homeward. The Grange must be a pretty house, if that little sketch be true; is it far from this?  Twill be two mile. Are you vexed, Milly? I asked, for both her tone and looks were angry. Yes, I am vexed; and why not lass? What has happened? Well, now, that is rich! Why, look at that fellow, Carysbroke he took no more notice to me than a dog, and kep talking to you all the time of his pictures, and his walks, and his people. Why, a pigs better manners than that. But, Milly dear, you forget, he tried to talk to you, and you would not answer him, I expostulated. And is not that just what I sayI cant talk like other folkladies, I mean. Everyone laughs at me; an Im dressed like a show, I am. Its a shame! I saw Polly Shiveswhat a lady she is, my eyes!laughing at me in church last Sunday. I was minded to give her a bit of my mind. An I know Im queer. Its a shame, it is. Why should I be so rum? it is a shame! I dont want to be so, nor it isnt my fault. And poor Milly broke into a flood of tears, and stamped on the ground, and buried her face in her short frock, which she whisked up to her eyes; and an odder figure of grief I never beheld. And I could not make head or tail of what he was saying, cried poor Milly through her buff cotton, with a stamp; and you twigged every word ot. An why am I so? Its a shamea shame! Oh, ho, ho! its a shame! But, my dear Milly, we were talking of drawing, and you have not learned yet, but you shallIll teach you; and then youll understand all about it. An everyone laughs at meeven you; though you try, Maud, you can scarce keep from laughing sometimes. I dont blame you, for I know Im queer; but I cant help it; and its a shame. Well, my dear Milly, listen to me if you allow me, I assure you, Ill teach you all the music and drawing I know. You have lived very much alone; and, as you say, ladies have a way of speaking of their own that is different from the talk of other people. Yes, that they have, an gentlemen toolike the Governor, and that Carysbroke; and a precious lingo it isdang itwhy, the devil himself could not understand it; an Im like a fool among you. I could most drown myself. Its a shame! It isyou know it is.Its a shame! But Ill teach you that lingo too, if you wish it, Milly; and you shall know everything that I know; and Ill manage to have your dresses better made. By this time she was looking very ruefully, but attentively, in my face, her round eyes and nose swelled, and her cheeks all wet. I think if they were a little longeryours is longer, you know; and the sentence was interrupted by a sob. Now, Milly, you must not be crying; if you choose you may be just as the same as any other ladyand you shall; and you will be very much admired, I can tell you, if only you will take the trouble to quite unlearn all your odd words and ways, and dress yourself like other people; and I will take care of that if you let me; and I think you are very clever, Milly; and I know you are very pretty. Poor Millys blubbered face expanded into a smile in spite of herself; but she shook her head, looking down. Noa, noa, Maud, I fear twont be. And indeed it seemed I had proposed to myself a labour of Hercules. But Milly was really a clever creature, could see quickly, and when her ungainly dialect was mastered, describe very pleasantly; and if only she would endure the restraint and possessed the industry requisite, I did not despair, and was resolved at least to do my part. Poor Milly! she was really very grateful, and entered into the project of her education with great zeal, and with a strange mixture of humility and insubordination. Milly was in favour of again attacking Beautys position on her return, and forcing a passage from this side; but I insisted on following the route by which we had arrived, and so we got round the paling by the river, and were treated to a provoking grin of defiance by Beauty, who was talking across the gate to a slim young man, arrayed in fustian, and with an oddlooking cap of rabbitskin on his head, which, on seeing us, he pulled sheepishly to the side of his face next to us, as he lounged, with his arm under his chin, on the top bar of the gate. After our encounter of today, indeed, it was Miss Beautys wont to exhibit a kind of jeering disdain in her countenance whenever we passed. I think Milly would have engaged her again, had I not reminded her of her undertaking, and exerted my new authority. Look at that sneak, Pegtop, there, going up the path to the mill. He makes belief now he does not see us; but he does, though, only hes afraid well tell the Governor, and he thinks Governor wont give him his way with you. I hate that Pegtop he stopped me o riding the cows a year ago, he did. I thought Pegtop might have done worse. Indeed it was plain that a total reformation was needed here; and I was glad to find that poor Milly seemed herself conscious of it; and that her resolution to become more like other people of her station was not a mere spasm of mortification and jealousy, but a genuine and very zealous resolve. I had not half seen this old house of BartramHaugh yet. At first, indeed, I had but an imperfect idea of its extent. There was a range of rooms along one side of the great gallery, with closed windowshutters, and the doors generally locked. Old LAmour grew cross when we went into them, although we could see nothing; and Milly was afraid to open the windowsnot that any Bluebeard revelations were apprehended, but simply because she knew that Uncle Silass order was that things should be left undisturbed; and this boisterous spirit stood in awe of him to a degree which his gentle manners and apparent quietude rendered quite surprising. There were in this house, what certainly did not exist at Knowl, and what I have never observed, thought they may possibly be found in other old housesI mean, here and there, very high hatches, which we could only peep over by jumping in the air. They crossed the long corridors and great galleries; and several of them were turned across and locked, so as to intercept the passage, and interrupt our explorations. Milly, however, knew a queer little, very steep and dark back stair, which reached the upper floor; so she and I mounted, and made a long ramble through rooms much lower and ruder in finish than the lordly chambers we had left below. These commanded various views of the beautiful though neglected grounds; but on crossing a gallery we entered suddenly a chamber, which looked into a small and dismal quadrangle, formed by the inner walls of this great house, and of course designed only by the architect to afford the needful light and air to portions of the structure. I rubbed the windowpane with my handkerchief and looked out. The surrounding roof was steep and high. The walls looked soiled and dark. The windows lined with dust and dirt, and the windowstones were in places tufted with moss, and grass, and groundsel. An arched doorway had opened from the house into this darkened square, but it was soiled and dusty; and the damp weeds that overgrew the quadrangle drooped undisturbed against it. It was plain that human footsteps tracked it little, and I gazed into that blind and sinister area with a strange thrill and sinking. This is the second floorthere is the enclosed courtyardI, as it were, soliloquised. What are you afraid of, Maud? you look as yed seen a ghost, exclaimed Milly, who came to the window and peeped over my shoulder. It reminded me suddenly, Milly, of that frightful business. What business, Maud?what a plague are ye thinking on? demanded Milly, rather amused. It was in one of these roomsmaybe thisyes, it certainly was thisfor see, the panelling has been pulled off the wallthat Mr. Charke killed himself. I was staring ruefully round the dim chamber, in whose corners the shadows of night were already gathering. Charke!what about him?whos Charke? asked Milly. Why, you must have heard of him, said I. Not as Im aware on, answered she. And he killed himself, did he, hanged himself, eh, or blowed his brains out? He cut his throat in one of these roomsthis one, Im surefor your papa had the wainscoting stripped from the wall to ascertain whether there was any second door through which a murderer could have come; and you see these walls are stripped, and bear the marks of the woodwork that has been removed, I answered. Well, that was awful! I dont know how they have pluck to cut their throats; if I was doing it, Id like best to put a pistol to my head and fire, like the young gentleman did, they say, in Deadmans Hollow. But the fellows that cut their throats, they must be awful game lads, Im thinkin, for its a long slice, you know. Dont, dont, Milly dear. Suppose we come away, I said, for the evening was deepening rapidly into night. Hey and burymewick, but heres the blood; dont you see a big black cloud all spread over the floor hereabout, dont ye see? Milly was stooping over the spot, and tracing the outline of this, perhaps, imaginary mapping, in the air with her finger. No, Milly, you could not see it the floor is too dark, and its all in shadow. It must be fancy; and perhaps, after all, this is not the room. WellI think, Im sure it is. Standjust look. Well come in the morning, and if you are right we can see it better then. Come away, I said, growing frightened. And just as we stood up to depart, the white highcauled cap and large sallow features of old LAmour peeped in at the door. Lawk! what brings you here? cried Milly, nearly as much startled as I at the intrusion. What brings you here, miss? whistled LAmour through her gums. Were looking where Charke cut his throat, replied Milly. Charke the devil! said the old woman, with an odd mixture of scorn and fury.  Tisnt his room; and come ye out of it, please. Master wont like when he hears how you keep pulling Miss Maud from one room to another, all through the house, up and down. She was gabbling sternly enough, but dropped a low courtesy as I passed her, and with a peaked and nodding stare round the room, the old woman clapped the door sharply, and locked it. And who has been a talking about Charkea pack o lies, I warrant. I spose you want to frighten Miss Maud here (another crippled courtesy) wi ghosts and like nonsense. Youre out there twas she told me; and much about it. Ghosts, indeed! I dont vally them, not I; if I did, I know whod frighten me, and Milly laughed. The old woman stuffed the key in her pocket, and her wrinkled mouth pouted and receded with a grim uneasiness. A harmless brat, and kind she is; but wildwildshe will be wild. So whispered LAmour in my ear, during the silence that followed, nodding shakily toward Milly over the banister, and she courtesied again as we departed, and shuffled off toward Uncle Silass room. The Governor is queerish this evening, said Milly, when we were seated at our tea. You never saw him queerish, did you? You must say what you mean, more plainly, Milly. You dont mean ill, I hope? Well! I dont know what it is; but he does grow very queer sometimesyoud think he was dead amost, maybe two or three days and nights together. He sits all the time like an old woman in a swound. Well, well, it is awful! Is he insensible when in that state? I asked, a good deal alarmed. I dont know; but it never signifies anything. It wont kill him, I do believe; but old LAmour knows all about it. I hardly ever go into the room when hes so, only when Im sent for; and he sometimes wakes up and takes a fancy to call for this one or that. One day he sent for Pegtop all the way to the mill; and when he came, he only stared at him for a minute or two, and ordered him out o the room. Hes like a child amost, when hes in one o them dazes. I always knew when Uncle Silas was queerish, by the injunctions of old LAmour, whistled and spluttered over the banister as we came upstairs, to mind how we made a noise passing masters door; and by the sound of mysterious toings and froings about his room. I saw very little of him. He sometimes took a whim to have us breakfast with him, which lasted perhaps for a week; and then the order of our living would relapse into its old routine. I must not forget two kind letters from Lady Knollys, who was detained away, and delighted to hear that I enjoyed my quiet life; and promised to apply, in person, to Uncle Silas, for permission to visit me. She was to be for the Christmas at Elverston, and that was only six miles away from BartramHaugh, so I had the excitement of a pleasant look forward. She also said that she would include poor Milly in her invitation; and a vision of Captain Oakley rose before me, with his handsome gaze turned in wonder on poor Milly, for whom I had begun to feel myself responsible. I An Arrival at Dead of Night I have sometimes been asked why I wear an odd little turquoise ringwhich to the uninstructed eye appears quite valueless and altogether an unworthy companion of those jewels which flash insultingly beside it. It is a little keepsake, of which I became possessed about this time. Come, lass, what name shall I give you? cried Milly, one morning, bursting into my room in a state of alarming hilarity. My own, Milly. No, but you must have a nickname, like everyone else. Dont mind it, Milly. Yes, but I will. Shall I call you Mrs. Bustle? You shall do no such thing. But you must have a name. I refuse a name. But Ill give you one, lass. And I wont have it. But you cant help me christening you. I can decline answering. But Ill make you, said Milly, growing very red. Perhaps there was something provoking in my tone, for I certainly was very much disgusted at Millys relapse into barbarism. You cant, I retorted quietly. See if I dont, and Ill give ye one twice as ugly. I smiled, I fear, disdainfully. And I think youre a minx, and a slut, and a fool, she broke out, flushing scarlet. I smiled in the same unchristian way. And Id give ye a smack o the cheek as soon as look at you. And she gave her dress a great slap, and drew near me, in her wrath. I really thought she was about tendering the ordeal of single combat. I made her, however, a paralysing courtesy, and, with immense dignity, sailed out of the room, and into Uncle Silass study, where it happened we were to breakfast that morning, and for several subsequent ones. During the meal we maintained the most dignified reserve; and I dont think either so much as looked at the other. We had no walk together that day. I was sitting in the evening, quite alone, when Milly entered the room. Her eyes were red, and she looked very sullen. I want your hand, cousin, she said, at the same time taking it by the wrist, and administering with it a sudden slap on her plump cheek, which made the room ring, and my fingers tingle; and before I had recovered from my surprise, she had vanished. I called after her, but no answer; I pursued, but she was running too; and I quite lost her at the cross galleries. I did not see her at tea, nor before going to bed; but after I had fallen asleep I was awakened by Milly, in floods of tears. Cousin Maud, will ye forgi meyoull never like me again, will ye? NoI know ye wontIm such a bruteI hate itits a shame.


And heres a Banbury cake for youI sent to the town for it, and some taffywont ye eat it? and heres a little ringtisnt as pretty as your own rings; and yell wear it, maybe, for my sakepoor Millys sake, before I was so bad to yeif ye forgi me; and Ill look at breakfast, and if its on your finger Ill know youre friends wi me again; and if ye dont, I wont trouble you no more; and I think Ill just drown myself out o the way, and youll never see wicked Milly no more. And without waiting a moment, leaving me only half awake, and with the sensations of dreaming, she scampered from the room, in her bare feet, with a petticoat about her shoulders. She had left her candle by my bed, and her little offerings on the coverlet by me. If I had stood an atom less in terror of goblins than I did, I should have followed her, but I was afraid. I stood in my bare feet at my bedside, and kissed the poor little ring and put it on my finger, where it has remained ever since and always shall. And when I lay down, longing for morning, the image of her pale, imploring, penitential face was before me for hours; and I repented bitterly of my cool provoking ways, and thought myself, I dare say justly, a thousand times more to blame than Milly. I searched in vain for her before breakfast. At that meal, however, we met, but in the presence of Uncle Silas, who, though silent and apathetic, was formidable; and we, sitting at a table disproportionably large, under the cold, strange gaze of my guardian, talked only what was inevitable, and that in low tones; for whenever Milly for a moment raised her voice, Uncle Silas would wince, place his thin white fingers quickly over his ear, and look as if a pain had pierced his brain, and then shrug and smile piteously into vacancy. When Uncle Silas, therefore, was not in the talking vein himselfand that was not oftenyou may suppose there was very little spoken in his presence. When Milly, across the table, saw the ring upon my finger, she, drawing in her breath, said, Oh! and, with round eyes and mouth, she looked so delighted; and she made a little motion, as if she was on the point of jumping up; and then her poor face quivered, and she bit her lip; and staring imploringly at me, her eyes filled fast with tears, which rolled down her round penitential cheeks. I am sure I felt more penitent than she. I know I was crying and smiling, and longing to kiss her. I suppose we were very absurd; but it is well that small matters can stir the affections so profoundly at a time of life when great troubles seldom approach us. When at length the opportunity did come, never was such a hug out of the wrestling ring as poor Milly bestowed on me, swaying me this way and that, and burying her face in my dress, and blubbering I was so lonely before you came, and you so good to me, and I such a devil; and Ill never call you a name, but Maudmy darling Maud. You must, MillyMrs. Bustle. Ill be Mrs. Bustle, or anything you like. You must. I was blubbering like Milly, and hugging my best; and, indeed, I wonder how we kept our feet. So Milly and I were better friends than ever. Meanwhile, the winter deepened, and we had short days and long nights, and long fireside gossipings at BartramHaugh. I was frightened at the frequency of the strange collapses to which Uncle Silas was subject. I did not at first mind them much, for I naturally fell into Millys way of talking about them. But one day, while in one of his queerish states, he called for me, and I saw him, and was unspeakably scared. In a white wrapper, he lay coiled in a great easy chair. I should have thought him dead, had I not been accompanied by old LAmour, who knew every gradation and symptom of these strange affections. She winked and nodded to me with a ghastly significance, and whispered Dont make no noise, miss, till he talks; hell come to for a bit, anon. Except that there was no sign of convulsions, the countenance was like that of an epileptic arrested in one of his contortions. There was a frown and smirk like that of idiotcy, and a strip of white eyeball was also disclosed. Suddenly, with a kind of chilly shudder, he opened his eyes wide, and screwed his lips together, and blinked and stared on me with a fatuised uncertainty, that gradually broke into a feeble smile. Ah! the girlAustins child. Well, dear, Im hardly ableIll speak tomorrownext dayit is ticneuralgia, or somethingtorturetell her. So, huddling himself together, he lay again in his great chair, with the same inexpressible helplessness in his attitude, and gradually his face resumed its dreadful cast. Come away, miss hes changed his mind; hell not be fit to talk to you noways all day, maybe, said the old woman, again in a whisper. So forth we stole from the room, I unspeakably shocked. In fact, he looked as if he were dying, and so, in my agitation, I told the crone, who, forgetting the ceremony with which she usually treated me, chuckled out derisively, Adying is he? Well, he be like Saint Paulhes bin adying daily this many a day. I looked at her with a chill of horror. She did not care, I suppose, what sort of feelings she might excite, for she went on mumbling sarcastically to herself. I had paused, and overcame my reluctance to speak to her again, for I was really very much frightened. Do you think he is in danger? Shall we send for a doctor? I whispered. Law bless ye, the doctor knows all about it, miss. The old womans face had a gleam of that derision which is so shocking in the features of feebleness and age. But it is a fit, it is paralytic, or something horribleit cant be safe to leave him to chance or nature to get through these terrible attacks. Theres no fear of him, tisnt no fits at all, hes nout the worse ot. Jest silly a bit now and again. Its been the same a dozen year and more; and the doctor knows all about it, answered the old woman sturdily. And yell find hell be as mad as bedlam if ye make any stir about it. That night I talked the matter over with Mary Quince. Theyre very dark, miss; but I think he takes a deal too much laudlum, said Mary. To this hour I cannot say what was the nature of those periodical seizures. I have often spoken to medical men about them, since, but never could learn that excessive use of opium could altogether account for them. It was, I believe, certain, however, that he did use that drug in startling quantities. It was, indeed, sometimes a topic of complaint with him that his neuralgia imposed this sad necessity upon him. The image of Uncle Silas, as I had seen him that day, troubled and affrighted my imagination, as I lay in my bed; I had slept very well since my arrival at Bartram. So much of the day was passed in the open air, and in active exercise, that this was but natural. But that night I was nervous and wakeful, and it was past two oclock when I fancied I heard the sound of horses and carriagewheels on the avenue. Mary Quince was close by, and therefore I was not afraid to get up and peep from the window. My heart beat fast as I saw a postchaise approach the courtyard. A front window was let down, and the postilion pulled up for a few seconds. In consequence of some directions received by him, I fancied he resumed his route at a walk, and so drew up at the halldoor, on the steps of which a figure awaited his arrival. I think it was old LAmour, but I could not be quite certain. There was a lantern on the top of the balustrade, close by the door. The chaiselamps were lighted, for the night was rather dark. A bag and valise, as well as I could see, were pulled from the interior by the postboy, and a box from the top of the vehicle, and these were carried into the hall. I was obliged to keep my cheek against the windowpane to command a view of the point of debarkation, and my breath upon the glass, which dimmed it again almost as fast as I wiped it away, helped to obscure my vision. But I saw a tall figure, in a cloak, get down and swiftly enter the house, but whether male or female I could not discern. My heart beat fast. I jumped at once to a conclusion. My uncle was worsewas, in fact, dying; and this was the physician, too late summoned to his bedside. I listened for the ascent of the doctor, and his entrance at my uncles door, which, in the stillness of the night, I thought I might easily hear, but no sound reached me. I listened so for fully five minutes, but without result. I returned to the window, but the carriage and horses had disappeared. I was strongly tempted to wake Mary Quince, and take counsel with her, and persuade her to undertake a reconnoissance. The fact is, I was persuaded that my uncle was in extremity, and I was quite wild to know the doctors opinion. But, after all, it would be cruel to summon the good soul from her refreshing nap. So, as I began to feel very cold, I returned to my bed, where I continued to listen and conjecture until I fell asleep. In the morning, as was usual, before I was dressed, in came Milly. How is Uncle Silas? I eagerly enquired. Old LAmour says hes queerish still; but hes not so dull as yesterday, answered she. Was not the doctor sent for? I asked. Was he? Well, thats odd; and she said never a word ot to me, answered she. Im asking only, said I. I dont know whether he came or no, she replied; but what makes you take that in your head? A chaise arrived here between two and three oclock last night. Hey! and who told you? Milly seemed all on a sudden highly interested. I saw it, Milly; and someone, I fancy the doctor, came from it into the house. Fudge, lass! whod send for the doctor? Twasnt he, I tell you. What was he like? said Milly. I could only see clearly that he, or she, was tall, and wore a cloak, I replied. Then twasnt him nor tother I was thinking on, neither; and Ill be hanged but I think it will be Cormoran, cried Milly, with a thoughtful rap with her knuckle on the table. Precisely at this juncture a tapping came to the door. Come in, said I. And old LAmour entered the room, with a courtesy. I came to tell Miss Quince her breakfasts ready, said the old lady. Who came in the chaise, LAmour? demanded Milly. What chaise? spluttered the beldame tartly. The chaise that came last night, past two oclock, said Milly. Thats a lie, and a damn lie! cried the beldame. There wornt no chaise at the door since Miss Maud there come from Knowl. I stared at the audacious old menial who could utter such language. Yes, there was a chaise, and Cormoran, as I think, be come in it, said Milly, who seemed accustomed to LAmours daring address. And theres another damn lie, as big as the tother, said the crone, her haggard and withered face flushing orange all over. I beg you will not use such language in my room, I replied, very angrily. I saw the chaise at the door; your untruth signifies very little, but your impertinence here I will not permit. Should it be repeated, I will assuredly complain to my uncle. The old woman flushed more fiercely as I spoke, and fixed her bleared glare on me, with a compression of her mouth that amounted to a wicked grimace. She resisted her angry impulse, however, and only chuckled a little spitefully, saying, No offence, miss it be a way we has in Derbyshire o speaking our minds. No offence, miss, were meant, and none took, as I hopes, and she made me another courtesy. And I forgot to tell you, Miss Milly, the master wants you this minute. So Milly, in mute haste, withdrew, followed closely by LAmour. II Doctor Bryerly Emerges When Milly joined me at breakfast, her eyes were red and swollen. She was still sniffing with that little sobbing hiccup, which betrays, even were there no other signs, recent violent weeping. She sat down quite silent. Is he worse, Milly? I enquired, anxiously. No, nothings wrong wi him; hes right well, said Milly, fiercely. Whats the matter then, Milly dear? The poisonous old witch! Twas just to tell the Govnor how Id said twas Cormoran that came by the poshay last night. And who is Cormoran? I enquired. Ay, there it is; Id like to tell, and you want to hearand I just darent, for hell send me off right to a French schoolhang ithang them all!if I do. And why should Uncle Silas care? said I, a good deal surprised. Theyre atellin lies. Who? said I. LAmourthats who. So soon as she made her complaint of me, the Govnor asked her, sharp enough, did anyone come last night, or a poshay; and she was ready to swear there was no one. Are ye quite sure, Maud, you really did see aught, or appen twas all a dream? It was no dream, Milly; so sure as you are there, I saw exactly what I told you, I replied. Govnor wont believe it anyhow; and hes right mad wi me; and he threatens me hell have me off to France; I wish twas under the sea. I hate FranceI dolike the devil. Dont you? Theyre always athreatening me wi France, if I dare say a word more about the poshay, oror anyone. I really was curious about Cormoran; but Cormoran was not to be defined to me by Milly; nor did she, in reality, know more than I respecting the arrival of the night before. One day I was surprised to see Doctor Bryerly on the stairs. I was standing in a dark gallery as he walked across the floor of the lobby to my uncles door, his hat on, and some papers in his hand. He did not see me; and when he had entered Uncle Silass door, I went down and found Milly awaiting me in the hall. So Doctor Bryerly is here, I said. Thats the thin fellow, wi the sharp look, and the shiny black coat, that went up just now? asked Milly. Yes, hes gone into your papas room, said I.  Appen twas he come tother night. He may be staying here, though we see him seldom, for its a barrack of a houseit is. The same thought had struck me for a moment, but was dismissed immediately. It certainly was not Doctor Bryerlys figure which I had seen. So, without any new light gathered from this apparition, we went on our way, and made our little sketch of the ruined bridge. We found the gate locked as before; and, as Milly could not persuade me to climb it, we got round the paling by the rivers bank. While at our drawing, we saw the swarthy face, sooty locks, and old weatherstained red coat of Zamiel, who was glowering malignly at us from among the trunks of the forest trees, and standing motionless as a monumental figure in the side aisle of a cathedral. When we looked again he was gone. Although it was a fine mild day for the wintry season, we yet, cloaked as we were, could not pursue so still an occupation as sketching for more than ten or fifteen minutes. As we returned, in passing a clump of trees, we heard a sudden outbreak of voices, angry and expostulatory; and saw, under the trees, the savage old Zamiel strike his daughter with his stick two great blows, one of which was across the head. Beauty ran only a short distance away, while the swart old wooddemon stumped lustily after her, cursing and brandishing his cudgel. My blood boiled. I was so shocked that for a moment I could not speak; but in a moment more I screamed You brute! How dare you strike the poor girl? She had only run a few steps, and turned about confronting him and us, her eyes gleaming fire, her features pale and quivering to suppress a burst of weeping. Two little rivulets of blood were trickling over her temple. I say, fayther, look at that, she said, with a strange tremulous smile, lifting her hand, which was smeared with blood. Perhaps he was ashamed, and the more enraged on that account, for he growled another curse, and started afresh to reach her, whirling his stick in the air. Our voices, however, arrested him. My uncle shall hear of your brutality. The poor girl! Strike him, Meg, if he does it again; and pitch his leg into the river tonight, when hes asleep. Id serve you the same; and out came an oath. Youd have her lick her fayther, would ye? Look out! And he wagged his head with a scowl at Milly, and a flourish of his cudgel. Be quiet, Milly, I whispered, for Milly was preparing for battle; and I again addressed him with the assurance that, on reaching home, I would tell my uncle how he had treated the poor girl.  Tis you she may thank fort, a wheedling o her to open that gate, he snarled. Thats a lie; we went round by the brook, cried Milly. I did not think proper to discuss the matter with him; and looking very angry, and, I thought, a little put out, he jerked and swayed himself out of sight. I merely repeated my promise of informing my uncle as he went, to which, over his shoulder, he bawled Silas wont mind ye that; snapping his horny finger and thumb. The girl remained where she had stood, wiping the blood off roughly with the palm of her hand, and looking at it before she rubbed it on her apron. My poor girl, I said, you must not cry. Ill speak to my uncle about you. But she was not crying. She raised her head, and looked at us a little askance, with a sullen contempt, I thought. And you must have these appleswont you? We had brought in our basket two or three of those splendid apples for which Bartram was famous. I hesitated to go near her, these Hawkeses, Beauty and Pegtop, were such savages. So I rolled the apples gently along the ground to her feet. She continued to look doggedly at us with the same expression, and kicked away the apples sullenly that approached her feet. Then, wiping her temple and forehead in her apron, without a word, she turned and walked slowly away. Poor thing! Im afraid she leads a hard life. What strange, repulsive people they are! When we reached home, at the head of the great staircase old LAmour was awaiting me; and with a courtesy, and very respectfully, she informed me that the Master would be happy to see me. Could it be about my evidence as to the arrival of the mysterious chaise that he summoned me to this interview? Gentle as were his ways, there was something undefinable about Uncle Silas which inspired fear; and I should have liked few things less than meeting his gaze in the character of a culprit. There was an uncertainty, too, as to the state in which I might find him, and a positive horror of beholding him again in the condition in which I had last seen him. I entered the room, then, in some trepidation, but was instantly relieved. Uncle Silas was in the same health apparently, and, as nearly as I could recollect it, in precisely the same rather handsome though negligent garb in which I had first seen him. Doctor Bryerlywhat a marked and vulgar contrast, and yet, somehow, how reassuring!sat at the table near him, and was tying up papers. His eyes watched me, I thought, with an anxious scrutiny as I approached; and I think it was not until I had saluted him that he recollected suddenly that he had not seen me before at Bartram, and stood up and greeted me in his usual abrupt and somewhat familiar way. It was vulgar and not cordial, and yet it was honest and indefinably kind. Up rose my uncle, that strangely venerable, pale portrait, in his loose Rembrandt black velvet. How gentle, how benignant, how unearthly, and inscrutable! I need not say how she is. Those lilies and roses, Doctor Bryerly, speak their own beautiful praises of the air of Bartram. I almost regret that her carriage will be home so soon. I only hope it may not abridge her rambles. It positively does me good to look at her. It is the glow of flowers in winter, and the fragrance of a field which the Lord hath blessed. Country air, Miss Ruthyn, is a right good kitchen to country fare. I like to see young women eat heartily. You have had some pounds of beef and mutton since I saw you last, said Dr. Bryerly. And this sly speech made, he scrutinised my countenance in silence rather embarrassingly. My system, Doctor Bryerly, as a disciple of Aesculapius you will approvehealth first, accomplishment afterwards. The Continent is the best field for elegant instruction, and we must see the world a little, byandby, Maud; and to me, if my health be spared, there would be an unspeakable though a melancholy charm in the scenes where so many happy, though so many wayward and foolish, young days were passed; and I think I should return to these picturesque solitudes with, perhaps, an increased relish. You remember old Chaulieus sweet lines  Dsert, aimable solitude, Sjour du calme et de la paix, Asile o nentrrent jamais Le tumulte et linquitude. I cant say that care and sorrow have not sometimes penetrated these sylvan fastnesses; but the tumults of the world, thank Heaven!never. There was a sly scepticism, I thought, in Doctor Bryerlys sharp face; and hardly waiting for the impressive never, he said I forgot to ask, who is your banker? Oh! Bartlet and Hall, Lombard Street, answered Uncle Silas, dryly and shortly. Dr. Bryerly made a note of it, with an expression of face which seemed, with a sly resolution, to say, You shant come the anchorite over me. I saw Uncle Silass wild and piercing eye rest suspiciously on me for a moment, as if to ascertain whether I felt the spirit of Doctor Bryerlys almost interruption; and, nearly at the same moment, stuffing his papers into his capacious coat pockets, Doctor Bryerly rose and took his leave. When he was gone, I bethought me that now was a good opportunity of making my complaint of Dickon Hawkes. Uncle Silas having risen, I hesitated, and began, Uncle, may I mention an occurrencewhich I witnessed? Certainly, child, he answered, fixing his eye sharply on me. I really think he fancied that the conversation was about to turn upon the phantom chaise. So I described the scene which had shocked Milly and me, an hour or so ago, in the Windmill Wood. You see, my dear child, they are rough persons; their ideas are not ours; their young people must be chastised, and in a way and to a degree that we would look upon in a serious light. Ive found it a bad plan interfering in strictly domestic misunderstandings, and should rather not. But he struck her violently on the head, uncle, with a heavy cudgel, and she was bleeding very fast. Ah? said my uncle, dryly. And only that Milly and I deterred him by saying that we would certainly tell you, he would have struck her again; and I really think if he goes on treating her with so much violence and cruelty he may injure her seriously, or perhaps kill her. Why, you romantic little child, people in that rank of life think absolutely nothing of a broken head, answered Uncle Silas, in the same way. But is it not horrible brutality, uncle? To be sure it is brutality; but then you must remember they are brutes, and it suits them, said he. I was disappointed. I had fancied that Uncle Silass gentle nature would have recoiled from such an outrage with horror and indignation; and instead, here he was, the apologist of that savage ruffian, Dickon Hawkes. And he is always so rude and impertinent to Milly and to me, I continued. Oh! impertinent to youthats another matter. I must see to that. Nothing more, my dear child? Well, there was nothing more. Hes a useful servant, Hawkes; and though his looks are not prepossessing, and his ways and language rough, yet he is a very kind father, and a most honest mana thoroughly moral man, though severea very rough diamond though, and has no idea of the refinements of polite society. I venture to say he honestly believes that he has been always unexceptionably polite to you, so we must make allowances. And Uncle Silas smoothed my hair with his thin aged hand, and kissed my forehead. Yes, we must make allowances; we must be kind. What says the Book?Judge not, that ye be not judged. Your dear father acted upon that maximso noble and so awfuland I strive to do so. Alas! dear Austin, longo intervalle, far behind! and you are removedmy example and my help; you are gone to your rest, and I remain beneath my burden, still marching on by bleak and alpine paths, under the awful night.  O nuit, nuit douloureuse! O toi, tardive aurore! Vienstu? vastu venir? estu bien loin encore?  And repeating these lines of Chnier, with upturned eyes, and one hand lifted, and an indescribable expression of grief and fatigue, he sank stiffly into his chair, and remained mute, with eyes closed for some time. Then applying his scented handkerchief to them hastily, and looking very kindly at me, he said Anything more, dear child? Nothing, uncle, thank you, very much, only about that man, Hawkes; I dare say that he does not mean to be so uncivil as he is, but I am really afraid of him, and he makes our walks in that direction quite unpleasant. I understand quite, my dear. I will see to it; and you must remember that nothing is to be allowed to vex my beloved niece and ward during her stay at Bartramnothing that her old kinsman, Silas Ruthyn, can remedy. So with a tender smile, and a charge to shut the door perfectly, but without clapping it, he dismissed me. Doctor Bryerly had not slept at Bartram, but at the little inn in Feltram, and he was going direct to London, as I afterwards learned. Your ugly doctors gone away in a fly, said Milly, as we met on the stairs, she running up, I down. On reaching the little apartment which was our sittingroom, however, I found that she was mistaken; for Doctor Bryerly, with his hat and a great pair of woollen gloves on, and an old Oxford grey surtout that showed his lank length to advantage, buttoned all the way up to his chin, had set down his black leather bag on the table, and was reading at the window a little volume which I had borrowed from my uncles library. It was Swedenborgs account of the other worlds, Heaven and Hell. He closed it on his finger as I entered, and without recollecting to remove his hat, he made a step or two towards me with his splay, creaking boots. With a quick glance at the door, he said Glad to see you alone for a minutevery glad. But his countenance, on the contrary, looked very anxious. III A Midnight Departure Im going this minuteII want to knowanother glance at the doorare you really quite comfortable here? Quite, I answered promptly. You have only your cousins company? he continued, glancing at the table, which was laid for two. Yes; but Milly and I are very happy together. Thats very nice; but I think there are no teachers, you seepainters, and singers, and that sort of thing that is usual with young ladies. No teachers of that kindof any kindare there? No; my uncle thinks it better I should lay in a store of health, he says. I know; and the carriage and horses have not come; how soon are they expected? I really cant say, and I assure you I dont much care. I think running about great fun. You walk to church? Yes; Uncle Silass carriage wants a new wheel, he told me. Ay, but a young woman of your rank, you know, it is not usual she should be without the use of a carriage. Have you horses to ride? I shook my head. Your uncle, you know, has a very liberal allowance for your maintenance and education. I remembered something in the will about it, and Mary Quince was constantly grumbling that he did not spend a pound a week on our board. I answered nothing, but looked down. Another glance at the door from Doctor Bryerlys sharp black eyes. Is he kind to you? Very kindmost gentle and affectionate. Why doesnt he keep company with you? Does he ever dine with you, or drink tea, or talk to you? Do you see much of him? He is a miserable invalidhis hours and regimen are peculiar. Indeed I wish very much you would consider his case; he is, I believe, often insensible for a long time, and his mind in a strange feeble state sometimes. I dare sayworn out in his young days; and I saw that preparation of opium in his bottlehe takes too much. Why do you think so, Doctor Bryerly? Its made on water the spirit interferes with the use of it beyond a certain limit. You have no idea what those fellows can swallow. Read the Opium Eater. I knew two cases in which the quantity exceeded De Quincys. Aha! its new to you? and he laughed quietly at my simplicity. And what do you think his complaint is? I asked. Pooh! I havent a notion; but, probably, one way or another, he has been all his days working on his nerves and his brain. These men of pleasure, who have no other pursuit, use themselves up mostly, and pay a smart price for their sins. And so hes kind and affectionate, but hands you over to your cousin and the servants. Are his people civil and obliging? Well, I cant say much for them; there is a man named Hawkes, and his daughter, who are very rude, and even abusive sometimes, and say they have orders from my uncle to shut us out from a portion of the grounds; but I dont believe that, for Uncle Silas never alluded to it when I was making my complaint of them today. From what part of the grounds is that? asked Doctor Bryerly, sharply. I described the situation as well as I could. Can we see it from this? he asked, peeping from the window. Oh, no. Doctor Bryerly made a note in his pocketbook here, and I said But I am really quite sure it was a story of Dickons, he is such a surly, disobliging man. And what sort is that old servant that came in and out of his room? Oh, that is old LAmour, I answered, rather indirectly, and forgetting that I was using Millys nickname. And is she civil? he asked. No, she certainly was not; a most disagreeable old woman, with a vein of wickedness. I thought I had heard her swearing. They dont seem to be a very engaging lot, said Doctor Bryerly; but where theres one, there will be more. See here, I was just reading a passage, and he opened the little volume at the place where his finger marked it, and read for me a few sentences, the purport of which I well remember, although, of course, the words have escaped me. It was in that awful portion of the book which assumes to describe the condition of the condemned; and it said that, independently of the physical causes in that state operating to enforce community of habitation, and an isolation from superior spirits, there exist sympathies, aptitudes, and necessities which would, of themselves, induce that depraved gregariousness, and isolation too. And what of the rest of the servants, are they better? he resumed. We saw little or nothing of the others, except of old Giblets, the butler, who went about like a little automaton of dry bones, poking here and there, and whispering and smiling to himself as he laid the cloth; and seeming otherwise quite unconscious of an external world. This room is not got up like Mr. Ruthyns does he talk of furnishings and making things a little smart? No! Well, I must say, I think he might. Here there was a little silence, and Doctor Bryerly, with his accustomed simultaneous glance at the door, said in low, cautious tones, very distinctly Have you been thinking at all over that matter again, I mean about getting your uncle to forego his guardianship? I would not mind his first refusal. You could make it worth his while, unless hethat isunless hes very unreasonable indeed; and I think you would consult your interest, Miss Ruthyn, by doing so and, if possible, getting out of this place. But I have not thought of it at all; I am much happier here than I had at all expected, and I am very fond of my cousin Milly. How long have you been here exactly? I told him. It was some two or three months. Have you seen your other cousin yetthe young gentleman? No. Hm! Arent you very lonely? he enquired. We see no visitors here; but that, you know, I was prepared for. Doctor Bryerly read the wrinkles on his splay boot intently and peevishly, and tapped the sole lightly on the ground. Yes, it is very lonely, and the people a bad lot. Youd be pleasanter somewhere elsewith Lady Knollys, for instance, eh? Well, there certainly. But I am very well here really the time passes very pleasantly; and my uncle is so kind. I have only to mention anything that annoys me, and he will see that it is remedied he is always impressing that on me. Yes, it is not a fit place for you, said Doctor Bryerly. Of course, about your uncle, he resumed, observing my surprised look, it is all right but hes quite helpless, you know. At all events, think about it.