No More Learning

Well, to-night I
excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you
to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don't neglect
it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele. Good-night, my--" He stopped,
bit his lip, and abruptly left me.




CHAPTER XVIII


Merry days were these at Thornfield Hall; and busy days too: how
different from the first three months of stillness, monotony, and
solitude I had passed beneath its roof! All sad feelings seemed now
driven from the house, all gloomy associations forgotten: there was life
everywhere, movement all day long. You could not now traverse the
gallery, once so hushed, nor enter the front chambers, once so
tenantless, without encountering a smart lady's-maid or a dandy valet.

The kitchen, the butler's pantry, the servants' hall, the entrance hall,
were equally alive; and the saloons were only left void and still when
the blue sky and halcyon sunshine of the genial spring weather called
their occupants out into the grounds. Even when that weather was broken,
and continuous rain set in for some days, no damp seemed cast over
enjoyment: indoor amusements only became more lively and varied, in
consequence of the stop put to outdoor gaiety.

I wondered what they were going to do the first evening a change of
entertainment was proposed: they spoke of "playing charades," but in my
ignorance I did not understand the term. The servants were called in,
the dining-room tables wheeled away, the lights otherwise disposed, the
chairs placed in a semicircle opposite the arch. While Mr. Rochester and
the other gentlemen directed these alterations, the ladies were running
up and down stairs ringing for their maids. Mrs. Fairfax was summoned to
give information respecting the resources of the house in shawls,
dresses, draperies of any kind; and certain wardrobes of the third storey
were ransacked, and their contents, in the shape of brocaded and hooped
petticoats, satin sacques, black modes, lace lappets, &c. , were brought
down in armfuls by the abigails; then a selection was made, and such
things as were chosen were carried to the boudoir within the
drawing-room.

Meantime, Mr. Rochester had again summoned the ladies round him, and was
selecting certain of their number to be of his party. "Miss Ingram is
mine, of course," said he: afterwards he named the two Misses Eshton, and
Mrs. Dent. He looked at me: I happened to be near him, as I had been
fastening the clasp of Mrs. Dent's bracelet, which had got loose.

"Will you play? " he asked. I shook my head. He did not insist, which I
rather feared he would have done; he allowed me to return quietly to my
usual seat.

He and his aids now withdrew behind the curtain: the other party, which
was headed by Colonel Dent, sat down on the crescent of chairs. One of
the gentlemen, Mr. Eshton, observing me, seemed to propose that I should
be asked to join them; but Lady Ingram instantly negatived the notion.

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

Ere long a bell tinkled, and the curtain drew up. Within the arch, the
bulky figure of Sir George Lynn, whom Mr. Rochester had likewise chosen,
was seen enveloped in a white sheet: before him, on a table, lay open a
large book; and at his side stood Amy Eshton, draped in Mr. Rochester's
cloak, and holding a book in her hand. Somebody, unseen, rang the bell
merrily; then Adele (who had insisted on being one of her guardian's
party), bounded forward, scattering round her the contents of a basket of
flowers she carried on her arm. Then appeared the magnificent figure of
Miss Ingram, clad in white, a long veil on her head, and a wreath of
roses round her brow; by her side walked Mr. Rochester, and together they
drew near the table. They knelt; while Mrs. Dent and Louisa Eshton,
dressed also in white, took up their stations behind them. A ceremony
followed, in dumb show, in which it was easy to recognise the pantomime
of a marriage. At its termination, Colonel Dent and his party consulted
in whispers for two minutes, then the Colonel called out--

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

A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its second rising
displayed a more elaborately prepared scene than the last. The drawing-
room, as I have before observed, was raised two steps above the dining-
room, and on the top of the upper step, placed a yard or two back within
the room, appeared a large marble basin--which I recognised as an
ornament of the conservatory--where it usually stood, surrounded by
exotics, and tenanted by gold fish--and whence it must have been
transported with some trouble, on account of its size and weight.

Seated on the carpet, by the side of this basin, was seen Mr. Rochester,
costumed in shawls, with a turban on his head. His dark eyes and swarthy
skin and Paynim features suited the costume exactly: he looked the very
model of an Eastern emir, an agent or a victim of the bowstring.
Presently advanced into view Miss Ingram. She, too, was attired in
oriental fashion: a crimson scarf tied sash-like round the waist: an
embroidered handkerchief knotted about her temples; her
beautifully-moulded arms bare, one of them upraised in the act of
supporting a pitcher, poised gracefully on her head. Both her cast of
form and feature, her complexion and her general air, suggested the idea
of some Israelitish princess of the patriarchal days; and such was
doubtless the character she intended to represent.

She approached the basin, and bent over it as if to fill her pitcher; she
again lifted it to her head. The personage on the well-brink now seemed
to accost her; to make some request:--"She hasted, let down her pitcher
on her hand, and gave him to drink. " From the bosom of his robe he then
produced a casket, opened it and showed magnificent bracelets and
earrings; she acted astonishment and admiration; kneeling, he laid the
treasure at her feet; incredulity and delight were expressed by her looks
and gestures; the stranger fastened the bracelets on her arms and the
rings in her ears. It was Eliezer and Rebecca: the camels only were
wanting.

The divining party again laid their heads together: apparently they could
not agree about the word or syllable the scene illustrated. Colonel
Dent, their spokesman, demanded "the tableau of the whole;" whereupon the
curtain again descended.

On its third rising only a portion of the drawing-room was disclosed; the
rest being concealed by a screen, hung with some sort of dark and coarse
drapery. The marble basin was removed; in its place, stood a deal table
and a kitchen chair: these objects were visible by a very dim light
proceeding from a horn lantern, the wax candles being all extinguished.

Amidst this sordid scene, sat a man with his clenched hands resting on
his knees, and his eyes bent on the ground. I knew Mr. Rochester; though
the begrimed face, the disordered dress (his coat hanging loose from one
arm, as if it had been almost torn from his back in a scuffle), the
desperate and scowling countenance, the rough, bristling hair might well
have disguised him. As he moved, a chain clanked; to his wrists were
attached fetters.

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

A sufficient interval having elapsed for the performers to resume their
ordinary costume, they re-entered the dining-room. Mr. Rochester led in
Miss Ingram; she was complimenting him on his acting.

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

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

"Alas! yes: the more's the pity! Nothing could be more becoming to your
complexion than that ruffian's rouge. "

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

"An English hero of the road would be the next best thing to an Italian
bandit; and that could only be surpassed by a Levantine pirate. "

"Well, whatever I am, remember you are my wife; we were married an hour
since, in the presence of all these witnesses. " She giggled, and her
colour rose.

"Now, Dent," continued Mr. Rochester, "it is your turn. " And as the
other party withdrew, he and his band took the vacated seats. Miss
Ingram placed herself at her leader's right hand; the other diviners
filled the chairs on each side of him and her. I did not now watch the
actors; I no longer waited with interest for the curtain to rise; my
attention was absorbed by the spectators; my eyes, erewhile fixed on the
arch, were now irresistibly attracted to the semicircle of chairs. What
charade Colonel Dent and his party played, what word they chose, how they
acquitted themselves, I no longer remember; but I still see the
consultation which followed each scene: I see Mr. Rochester turn to Miss
Ingram, and Miss Ingram to him; I see her incline her head towards him,
till the jetty curls almost touch his shoulder and wave against his
cheek; I hear their mutual whisperings; I recall their interchanged
glances; and something even of the feeling roused by the spectacle
returns in memory at this moment.

I have told you, reader, that I had learnt to love Mr. Rochester: I could
not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to notice
me--because I might pass hours in his presence, and he would never once
turn his eyes in my direction--because I saw all his attentions
appropriated by a great lady, who scorned to touch me with the hem of her
robes as she passed; who, if ever her dark and imperious eye fell on me
by chance, would withdraw it instantly as from an object too mean to
merit observation. I could not unlove him, because I felt sure he would
soon marry this very lady--because I read daily in her a proud security
in his intentions respecting her--because I witnessed hourly in him a
style of courtship which, if careless and choosing rather to be sought
than to seek, was yet, in its very carelessness, captivating, and in its
very pride, irresistible.

There was nothing to cool or banish love in these circumstances, though
much to create despair. Much too, you will think, reader, to engender
jealousy: if a woman, in my position, could presume to be jealous of a
woman in Miss Ingram's. But I was not jealous: or very rarely;--the
nature of the pain I suffered could not be explained by that word. Miss
Ingram was a mark beneath jealousy: she was too inferior to excite the
feeling. Pardon the seeming paradox; I mean what I say. She was very
showy, but she was not genuine: she had a fine person, many brilliant
attainments; but her mind was poor, her heart barren by nature: nothing
bloomed spontaneously on that soil; no unforced natural fruit delighted
by its freshness. She was not good; she was not original: she used to
repeat sounding phrases from books: she never offered, nor had, an
opinion of her own. She advocated a high tone of sentiment; but she did
not know the sensations of sympathy and pity; tenderness and truth were
not in her. Too often she betrayed this, by the undue vent she gave to a
spiteful antipathy she had conceived against little Adele: pushing her
away with some contumelious epithet if she happened to approach her;
sometimes ordering her from the room, and always treating her with
coldness and acrimony. Other eyes besides mine watched these
manifestations of character--watched them closely, keenly, shrewdly. Yes;
the future bridegroom, Mr. Rochester himself, exercised over his intended
a ceaseless surveillance; and it was from this sagacity--this guardedness
of his--this perfect, clear consciousness of his fair one's defects--this
obvious absence of passion in his sentiments towards her, that my ever-
torturing pain arose.

I saw he was going to marry her, for family, perhaps political reasons,
because her rank and connections suited him; I felt he had not given her
his love, and that her qualifications were ill adapted to win from him
that treasure. This was the point--this was where the nerve was touched
and teased--this was where the fever was sustained and fed: _she could
not charm him_.

If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded and sincerely
laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face, turned to the
wall, and (figuratively) have died to them. If Miss Ingram had been a
good and noble woman, endowed with force, fervour, kindness, sense, I
should have had one vital struggle with two tigers--jealousy and despair:
then, my heart torn out and devoured, I should have admired
her--acknowledged her excellence, and been quiet for the rest of my days:
and the more absolute her superiority, the deeper would have been my
admiration--the more truly tranquil my quiescence. But as matters really
stood, to watch Miss Ingram's efforts at fascinating Mr. Rochester, to
witness their repeated failure--herself unconscious that they did fail;
vainly fancying that each shaft launched hit the mark, and infatuatedly
pluming herself on success, when her pride and self-complacency repelled
further and further what she wished to allure--to witness _this_, was to
be at once under ceaseless excitation and ruthless restraint.

Because, when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded. Arrows
that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast and fell
harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand, have
quivered keen in his proud heart--have called love into his stern eye,
and softness into his sardonic face; or, better still, without weapons a
silent conquest might have been won.

"Why can she not influence him more, when she is privileged to draw so
near to him? " I asked myself. "Surely she cannot truly like him, or not
like him with true affection! If she did, she need not coin her smiles
so lavishly, flash her glances so unremittingly, manufacture airs so
elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems to me that she might, by
merely sitting quietly at his side, saying little and looking less, get
nigher his heart. I have seen in his face a far different expression
from that which hardens it now while she is so vivaciously accosting him;
but then it came of itself: it was not elicited by meretricious arts and
calculated manoeuvres; and one had but to accept it--to answer what he
asked without pretension, to address him when needful without grimace--and
it increased and grew kinder and more genial, and warmed one like a
fostering sunbeam. How will she manage to please him when they are
married? I do not think she will manage it; and yet it might be managed;
and his wife might, I verily believe, be the very happiest woman the sun
shines on. "

I have not yet said anything condemnatory of Mr. Rochester's project of
marrying for interest and connections. It surprised me when I first
discovered that such was his intention: I had thought him a man unlikely
to be influenced by motives so commonplace in his choice of a wife; but
the longer I considered the position, education, &c. , of the parties, the
less I felt justified in judging and blaming either him or Miss Ingram
for acting in conformity to ideas and principles instilled into them,
doubtless, from their childhood. All their class held these principles:
I supposed, then, they had reasons for holding them such as I could not
fathom. It seemed to me that, were I a gentleman like him, I would take
to my bosom only such a wife as I could love; but the very obviousness of
the advantages to the husband's own happiness offered by this plan
convinced me that there must be arguments against its general adoption of
which I was quite ignorant: otherwise I felt sure all the world would act
as I wished to act.

But in other points, as well as this, I was growing very lenient to my
master: I was forgetting all his faults, for which I had once kept a
sharp look-out. It had formerly been my endeavour to study all sides of
his character: to take the bad with the good; and from the just weighing
of both, to form an equitable judgment. Now I saw no bad. The sarcasm
that had repelled, the harshness that had startled me once, were only
like keen condiments in a choice dish: their presence was pungent, but
their absence would be felt as comparatively insipid. And as for the
vague something--was it a sinister or a sorrowful, a designing or a
desponding expression? --that opened upon a careful observer, now and
then, in his eye, and closed again before one could fathom the strange
depth partially disclosed; that something which used to make me fear and
shrink, as if I had been wandering amongst volcanic-looking hills, and
had suddenly felt the ground quiver and seen it gape: that something, I,
at intervals, beheld still; and with throbbing heart, but not with
palsied nerves. Instead of wishing to shun, I longed only to dare--to
divine it; and I thought Miss Ingram happy, because one day she might
look into the abyss at her leisure, explore its secrets and analyse their
nature.

Meantime, while I thought only of my master and his future bride--saw
only them, heard only their discourse, and considered only their
movements of importance--the rest of the party were occupied with their
own separate interests and pleasures. The Ladies Lynn and Ingram
continued to consort in solemn conferences, where they nodded their two
turbans at each other, and held up their four hands in confronting
gestures of surprise, or mystery, or horror, according to the theme on
which their gossip ran, like a pair of magnified puppets. Mild Mrs. Dent
talked with good-natured Mrs. Eshton; and the two sometimes bestowed a
courteous word or smile on me. Sir George Lynn, Colonel Dent, and Mr.
Eshton discussed politics, or county affairs, or justice business. Lord
Ingram flirted with Amy Eshton; Louisa played and sang to and with one of
the Messrs. Lynn; and Mary Ingram listened languidly to the gallant
speeches of the other. Sometimes all, as with one consent, suspended
their by-play to observe and listen to the principal actors: for, after
all, Mr. Rochester and--because closely connected with him--Miss Ingram
were the life and soul of the party. If he was absent from the room an
hour, a perceptible dulness seemed to steal over the spirits of his
guests; and his re-entrance was sure to give a fresh impulse to the
vivacity of conversation.

The want of his animating influence appeared to be peculiarly felt one
day that he had been summoned to Millcote on business, and was not likely
to return till late. The afternoon was wet: a walk the party had
proposed to take to see a gipsy camp, lately pitched on a common beyond
Hay, was consequently deferred. Some of the gentlemen were gone to the
stables: the younger ones, together with the younger ladies, were playing
billiards in the billiard-room. The dowagers Ingram and Lynn sought
solace in a quiet game at cards. Blanche Ingram, after having repelled,
by supercilious taciturnity, some efforts of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Eshton to
draw her into conversation, had first murmured over some sentimental
tunes and airs on the piano, and then, having fetched a novel from the
library, had flung herself in haughty listlessness on a sofa, and
prepared to beguile, by the spell of fiction, the tedious hours of
absence. The room and the house were silent: only now and then the
merriment of the billiard-players was heard from above.

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

"Voila, Monsieur Rochester, qui revient! "

I turned, and Miss Ingram darted forwards from her sofa: the others, too,
looked up from their several occupations; for at the same time a
crunching of wheels and a splashing tramp of horse-hoofs became audible
on the wet gravel. A post-chaise was approaching.

"What can possess him to come home in that style? " said Miss Ingram. "He
rode Mesrour (the black horse), did he not, when he went out? and Pilot
was with him:--what has he done with the animals? "

As she said this, she approached her tall person and ample garments so
near the window, that I was obliged to bend back almost to the breaking
of my spine: in her eagerness she did not observe me at first, but when
she did, she curled her lip and moved to another casement. The
post-chaise stopped; the driver rang the door-bell, and a gentleman
alighted attired in travelling garb; but it was not Mr. Rochester; it was
a tall, fashionable-looking man, a stranger.

"How provoking! " exclaimed Miss Ingram: "you tiresome monkey! "
(apostrophising Adele), "who perched you up in the window to give false
intelligence? " and she cast on me an angry glance, as if I were in fault.

Some parleying was audible in the hall, and soon the new-comer entered.
He bowed to Lady Ingram, as deeming her the eldest lady present.

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

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

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

As I sat in my usual nook, and looked at him with the light of the
girandoles on the mantelpiece beaming full over him--for he occupied an
arm-chair drawn close to the fire, and kept shrinking still nearer, as if
he were cold, I compared him with Mr. Rochester. I think (with deference
be it spoken) the contrast could not be much greater between a sleek
gander and a fierce falcon: between a meek sheep and the rough-coated
keen-eyed dog, its guardian.

He had spoken of Mr. Rochester as an old friend. A curious friendship
theirs must have been: a pointed illustration, indeed, of the old adage
that "extremes meet. "

Two or three of the gentlemen sat near him, and I caught at times scraps
of their conversation across the room. At first I could not make much
sense of what I heard; for the discourse of Louisa Eshton and Mary
Ingram, who sat nearer to me, confused the fragmentary sentences that
reached me at intervals. These last were discussing the stranger; they
both called him "a beautiful man. " Louisa said he was "a love of a
creature," and she "adored him;" and Mary instanced his "pretty little
mouth, and nice nose," as her ideal of the charming.

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

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

I was now able to concentrate my attention on the group by the fire, and
I presently gathered that the new-comer was called Mr. Mason; then I
learned that he was but just arrived in England, and that he came from
some hot country: which was the reason, doubtless, his face was so
sallow, and that he sat so near the hearth, and wore a surtout in the
house. Presently the words Jamaica, Kingston, Spanish Town, indicated
the West Indies as his residence; and it was with no little surprise I
gathered, ere long, that he had there first seen and become acquainted
with Mr. Rochester. He spoke of his friend's dislike of the burning
heats, the hurricanes, and rainy seasons of that region. I knew Mr.
Rochester had been a traveller: Mrs. Fairfax had said so; but I thought
the continent of Europe had bounded his wanderings; till now I had never
heard a hint given of visits to more distant shores.
I was pondering these things, when an incident, and a somewhat unexpected
one, broke the thread of my musings. Mr. Mason, shivering as some one
chanced to open the door, asked for more coal to be put on the fire,
which had burnt out its flame, though its mass of cinder still shone hot
and red. The footman who brought the coal, in going out, stopped near
Mr. Eshton's chair, and said something to him in a low voice, of which I
heard only the words, "old woman,"--"quite troublesome. "

"Tell her she shall be put in the stocks if she does not take herself
off," replied the magistrate.

"No--stop! " interrupted Colonel Dent. "Don't send her away, Eshton; we
might turn the thing to account; better consult the ladies. " And
speaking aloud, he continued--"Ladies, you talked of going to Hay Common
to visit the gipsy camp; Sam here says that one of the old Mother Bunches
is in the servants' hall at this moment, and insists upon being brought
in before 'the quality,' to tell them their fortunes. Would you like to
see her? "

"Surely, colonel," cried Lady Ingram, "you would not encourage such a low
impostor? Dismiss her, by all means, at once! "

"But I cannot persuade her to go away, my lady," said the footman; "nor
can any of the servants: Mrs. Fairfax is with her just now, entreating
her to be gone; but she has taken a chair in the chimney-corner, and says
nothing shall stir her from it till she gets leave to come in here. "

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

"'To tell the gentry their fortunes,' she says, ma'am; and she swears she
must and will do it. "

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

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

"Why, she's a real sorceress! " cried Frederick Lynn. "Let us have her
in, of course. "

"To be sure," rejoined his brother; "it would be a thousand pities to
throw away such a chance of fun. "

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

"I cannot possibly countenance any such inconsistent proceeding," chimed
in the Dowager Ingram.

"Indeed, mama, but you can--and will," pronounced the haughty voice of
Blanche, as she turned round on the piano-stool; where till now she had
sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of music. "I have a
curiosity to hear my fortune told: therefore, Sam, order the beldame
forward. "

"My darling Blanche! recollect--"

"I do--I recollect all you can suggest; and I must have my will--quick,
Sam! "

"Yes--yes--yes! " cried all the juveniles, both ladies and gentlemen. "Let
her come--it will be excellent sport! "

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

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

Excitement instantly seized the whole party: a running fire of raillery
and jests was proceeding when Sam returned.

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

"You see now, my queenly Blanche," began Lady Ingram, "she encroaches. Be
advised, my angel girl--and--"

"Show her into the library, of course," cut in the "angel girl. " "It is
not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd either: I mean to
have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the library? "

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

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

Again Sam vanished; and mystery, animation, expectation rose to full flow
once more.

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

"I think I had better just look in upon her before any of the ladies go,"
said Colonel Dent.

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

Sam went and returned.

"She says, sir, that she'll have no gentlemen; they need not trouble
themselves to come near her; nor," he added, with difficulty suppressing
a titter, "any ladies either, except the young, and single. "

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

Miss Ingram rose solemnly: "I go first," she said, in a tone which might
have befitted the leader of a forlorn hope, mounting a breach in the van
of his men.

"Oh, my best! oh, my dearest! pause--reflect! " was her mama's cry; but
she swept past her in stately silence, passed through the door which
Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the library.

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

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

Would she laugh? Would she take it as a joke? All eyes met her with a
glance of eager curiosity, and she met all eyes with one of rebuff and
coldness; she looked neither flurried nor merry: she walked stiffly to
her seat, and took it in silence.

"Well, Blanche? " said Lord Ingram.

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

"What did you think? How do you feel? --Is she a real fortune-teller? "
demanded the Misses Eshton.

"Now, now, good people," returned Miss Ingram, "don't press upon me.
Really your organs of wonder and credulity are easily excited: you seem,
by the importance of you all--my good mama included--ascribe to this
matter, absolutely to believe we have a genuine witch in the house, who
is in close alliance with the old gentleman. I have seen a gipsy
vagabond; she has practised in hackneyed fashion the science of palmistry
and told me what such people usually tell. My whim is gratified; and now
I think Mr. Eshton will do well to put the hag in the stocks to-morrow
morning, as he threatened. "

Miss Ingram took a book, leant back in her chair, and so declined further
conversation. I watched her for nearly half-an-hour: during all that
time she never turned a page, and her face grew momently darker, more
dissatisfied, and more sourly expressive of disappointment. She had
obviously not heard anything to her advantage: and it seemed to me, from
her prolonged fit of gloom and taciturnity, that she herself,
notwithstanding her professed indifference, attached undue importance to
whatever revelations had been made her.

{During all that time she never turned a page: p184. jpg}

Meantime, Mary Ingram, Amy and Louisa Eshton, declared they dared not go
alone; and yet they all wished to go. A negotiation was opened through
the medium of the ambassador, Sam; and after much pacing to and fro,
till, I think, the said Sam's calves must have ached with the exercise,
permission was at last, with great difficulty, extorted from the rigorous
Sibyl, for the three to wait upon her in a body.

Their visit was not so still as Miss Ingram's had been: we heard
hysterical giggling and little shrieks proceeding from the library; and
at the end of about twenty minutes they burst the door open, and came
running across the hall, as if they were half-scared out of their wits.

"I am sure she is something not right! " they cried, one and all. "She
told us such things! She knows all about us! " and they sank breathless
into the various seats the gentlemen hastened to bring them.

Pressed for further explanation, they declared she had told them of
things they had said and done when they were mere children; described
books and ornaments they had in their boudoirs at home: keepsakes that
different relations had presented to them. They affirmed that she had
even divined their thoughts, and had whispered in the ear of each the
name of the person she liked best in the world, and informed them of what
they most wished for.

Here the gentlemen interposed with earnest petitions to be further
enlightened on these two last-named points; but they got only blushes,
ejaculations, tremors, and titters, in return for their importunity. The
matrons, meantime, offered vinaigrettes and wielded fans; and again and
again reiterated the expression of their concern that their warning had
not been taken in time; and the elder gentlemen laughed, and the younger
urged their services on the agitated fair ones.

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

"If you please, miss, the gipsy declares that there is another young
single lady in the room who has not been to her yet, and she swears she
will not go till she has seen all. I thought it must be you: there is no
one else for it. What shall I tell her? "

"Oh, I will go by all means," I answered: and I was glad of the
unexpected opportunity to gratify my much-excited curiosity. I slipped
out of the room, unobserved by any eye--for the company were gathered in
one mass about the trembling trio just returned--and I closed the door
quietly behind me.

"If you like, miss," said Sam, "I'll wait in the hall for you; and if she
frightens you, just call and I'll come in. "

"No, Sam, return to the kitchen: I am not in the least afraid. " Nor was
I; but I was a good deal interested and excited.




CHAPTER XIX


The library looked tranquil enough as I entered it, and the Sibyl--if
Sibyl she were--was seated snugly enough in an easy-chair at the chimney-
corner. She had on a red cloak and a black bonnet: or rather, a broad-
brimmed gipsy hat, tied down with a striped handkerchief under her chin.
An extinguished candle stood on the table; she was bending over the fire,
and seemed reading in a little black book, like a prayer-book, by the
light of the blaze: she muttered the words to herself, as most old women
do, while she read; she did not desist immediately on my entrance: it
appeared she wished to finish a paragraph.

I stood on the rug and warmed my hands, which were rather cold with
sitting at a distance from the drawing-room fire. I felt now as composed
as ever I did in my life: there was nothing indeed in the gipsy's
appearance to trouble one's calm. She shut her book and slowly looked
up; her hat-brim partially shaded her face, yet I could see, as she
raised it, that it was a strange one. It looked all brown and black: elf-
locks bristled out from beneath a white band which passed under her chin,
and came half over her cheeks, or rather jaws: her eye confronted me at
once, with a bold and direct gaze.

"Well, and you want your fortune told? " she said, in a voice as decided
as her glance, as harsh as her features.

"I don't care about it, mother; you may please yourself: but I ought to
warn you, I have no faith. "

"It's like your impudence to say so: I expected it of you; I heard it in
your step as you crossed the threshold. "

"Did you? You've a quick ear. "

"I have; and a quick eye and a quick brain. "

"You need them all in your trade. "

"I do; especially when I've customers like you to deal with. Why don't
you tremble? "

"I'm not cold. "

"Why don't you turn pale? "

"I am not sick. "

"Why don't you consult my art? "

"I'm not silly. "

The old crone "nichered" a laugh under her bonnet and bandage; she then
drew out a short black pipe, and lighting it began to smoke. Having
indulged a while in this sedative, she raised her bent body, took the
pipe from her lips, and while gazing steadily at the fire, said very
deliberately--"You are cold; you are sick; and you are silly. "

"Prove it," I rejoined.

"I will, in few words. You are cold, because you are alone: no contact
strikes the fire from you that is in you. You are sick; because the best
of feelings, the highest and the sweetest given to man, keeps far away
from you. You are silly, because, suffer as you may, you will not beckon
it to approach, nor will you stir one step to meet it where it waits
you. "

She again put her short black pipe to her lips, and renewed her smoking
with vigour.

"You might say all that to almost any one who you knew lived as a
solitary dependent in a great house. "

"I might say it to almost any one: but would it be true of almost any
one? "

"In my circumstances. "

"Yes; just so, in _your_ circumstances: but find me another precisely
placed as you are. "

"It would be easy to find you thousands. "

"You could scarcely find me one. If you knew it, you are peculiarly
situated: very near happiness; yes, within reach of it. The materials
are all prepared; there only wants a movement to combine them. Chance
laid them somewhat apart; let them be once approached and bliss results. "

"I don't understand enigmas. I never could guess a riddle in my life. "

"If you wish me to speak more plainly, show me your palm. "

"And I must cross it with silver, I suppose? "

"To be sure. "

I gave her a shilling: she put it into an old stocking-foot which she
took out of her pocket, and having tied it round and returned it, she
told me to hold out my hand. I did. She approached her face to the
palm, and pored over it without touching it.

"It is too fine," said she. "I can make nothing of such a hand as that;
almost without lines: besides, what is in a palm? Destiny is not written
there. "

"I believe you," said I.

"No," she continued, "it is in the face: on the forehead, about the eyes,
in the lines of the mouth. Kneel, and lift up your head. "

"Ah! now you are coming to reality," I said, as I obeyed her. "I shall
begin to put some faith in you presently. "

I knelt within half a yard of her. She stirred the fire, so that a
ripple of light broke from the disturbed coal: the glare, however, as she
sat, only threw her face into deeper shadow: mine, it illumined.

"I wonder with what feelings you came to me to-night," she said, when she
had examined me a while. "I wonder what thoughts are busy in your heart
during all the hours you sit in yonder room with the fine people flitting
before you like shapes in a magic-lantern: just as little sympathetic
communion passing between you and them as if they were really mere
shadows of human forms, and not the actual substance. "

"I feel tired often, sleepy sometimes, but seldom sad. "

"Then you have some secret hope to buoy you up and please you with
whispers of the future? "

"Not I. The utmost I hope is, to save money enough out of my earnings to
set up a school some day in a little house rented by myself. "

"A mean nutriment for the spirit to exist on: and sitting in that window-
seat (you see I know your habits )--"

"You have learned them from the servants. "

"Ah! you think yourself sharp. Well, perhaps I have: to speak truth, I
have an acquaintance with one of them, Mrs. Poole--"

I started to my feet when I heard the name.

"You have--have you? " thought I; "there is diablerie in the business
after all, then! "

"Don't be alarmed," continued the strange being; "she's a safe hand is
Mrs. Poole: close and quiet; any one may repose confidence in her. But,
as I was saying: sitting in that window-seat, do you think of nothing but
your future school? Have you no present interest in any of the company
who occupy the sofas and chairs before you? Is there not one face you
study? one figure whose movements you follow with at least curiosity? "

"I like to observe all the faces and all the figures. "

"But do you never single one from the rest--or it may be, two? "

"I do frequently; when the gestures or looks of a pair seem telling a
tale: it amuses me to watch them. "

"What tale do you like best to hear? "

"Oh, I have not much choice! They generally run on the same
theme--courtship; and promise to end in the same catastrophe--marriage. "

"And do you like that monotonous theme? "

"Positively, I don't care about it: it is nothing to me. "

"Nothing to you? When a lady, young and full of life and health,
charming with beauty and endowed with the gifts of rank and fortune, sits
and smiles in the eyes of a gentleman you--"

"I what? "

"You know--and perhaps think well of.