I boto see Mr. Rocer on t: I ed to  feared to meet  of tarily expected  in t  of entering t ep in for a fees sometimes, and I  o visit it t day.

    But t as usual: noto interrupt t course of Adèle’s studies; only soon after breakfast, I le in ter’s c is, Joones. tions of “ a mercy master  burnt in  is alo keep a candle lit at nigial t o ter-jug!” “I o be  take cold he library sofa,” amp;c.

    to mucion succeeded a sound of scrubbing and setting to rigairs to dinner, I sa all ored to complete order; only tripped of its ood up in t, rubbing t to address o kno , on advancing, I sating on a co neains. t han Grace Poole.

    t, staid and taciturn-looking, as usual, in uff go on s seemed absorbed: on ures, ion one o see marking tenance of a empted murder, and im  nigo o perpetrate. I  art, no increase or failure of colour betrayed emotion, consciousness of guilt, or fear of detection. Sic and brief manner; and taking up anotape,  on h her sewing.

    “I  o some test,” t I: “suce impenetrability is past comprehension.”

    “Good morning, Grace,” I said. “ I s all talking together a while ago.”

    “Only master  nig, and tains got on fire; but, fortunately, , and contrived to quencer in the ewer.

    “A strange affair!” I said, in a lo er wake nobody? Did no one hear him move?”

    So me, and time to examine me hen she answered—

    “ts sleep so far off, you kno be likely to  to master’s; but Mrs. Fairfax said s elderly, ten sleep  of assumed indifference, but still in a marked and significant tone—“But you are young, Miss; and I s sleeper: perhaps you may have heard a noise?”

    “I did,” said I, dropping my voice, so t Leaill polis  first I t it : but Pilot cannot laugain I range one.”

    Sook a ne carefully, teady  composure—

    “It is er would laug have been dreaming.”

    “I  dreaming,” I said,  me; and inising and conscious eye.

    “old master t you heard a laugh?” she inquired.

    “I  unity of speaking to his morning.”

    “You did not t into ther asked.

    So be cross-questioning me, attempting to draion unaruck me t if sed , s pranks on me; I t it advisable to be on my guard.

    “On trary,” said I, “I bolted my door.”

    “t in t of bolting your door every nig into bed?”

    “Fiend! ss to kno sion again prevailed over prudence: I replied so I en omitted to fasten t: I did not t necessary. I  ao be dreaded at t in future” (and I laid marked stress on take good care to make all secure before I venture to lie down.”

    “It o do,” empted by robbers since it e-closet, as is er tle ing on: but I al best to err on tened, and it is as o  bet. A deal of people, Miss, are for trusting all to Providence; but I say Providence  dispense en blesses tly.” And tered he demureness of a Quakeress.

    I still stood absolutely dumfoundered at o me  inscrutable ered.

    “Mrs. Poole,” said ss’ dinner will soon be ready: will you come down?”

    “No; just put my pint of porter and bit of pudding on a tray, and I’ll carry it upstairs.”

    “You’ll ?”

    “Just a morsel, and a taste of c’s all.”

    “And the sago?”

    “Never mind it at present: I seatime: I’ll make it myself.”

    turned to me, saying t Mrs. Fairfax ing for me: so I departed.

    I  of tain conflagration during dinner, so mucical cer of Grace Poole, and still more in pondering tion at tioning o custody t morning, or, at t, dismissed from er’s service.  as mucion of y last nig mysterious cause oo, to secrecy? It range: a bold, vindictive, and y gentleman seemed some of s; so muc even empt, muc.

    empted to t tenderer feelings ter in , ronly as s be admitted. “Yet,” I reflected, “semporary er’s: Mrs. Fairfax told me once, s tty; but, for augy and strengter to compensate for t of personal advantages. Mr. Rocer is an amateur of tric: Grace is eccentric at least.  if a former caprice (a freak very possible to a nature so sudden and rong as o ions a secret influence, t of ion, ,  of conjecture, Mrs. Poole’s square, flat figure, and uncomely, dry, even coarse face, recurred so distinctly to my mind’s eye, t I t, “No; impossible! my supposition cannot be correct. Yet,” suggested t voice o us in our o beautiful eiter approves you: at any rate, you en felt as if  night—remember his words; remember his look; remember his voice!”

    I one seemed at t vividly rene over ed  of start.

    “Qu’ avez-vous, mademoiselle?” said ss tremblent comme la feuille, et vos joues sont rouges: mais, rouges comme des cerises!”

    “I am , Adèle, ooping!” S on sketc on thinking.

    I ened to drive from my mind teful notion I ing Grace Poole; it disgusted me. I compared myself . Bessie Leaven e a lady; and srutter ty, because I er s.

    “Evening approacoer’s voice or step in to-day; but surely I s: I feared ting in t, because expectation  it is groient.”

    ually closed, and o go and play in t keenly desire it. I listened for to ring beloened for Leaimes I er’s oread, and I turned to ting it to open and admit ; darkness only came in till it  late; en sent for me at seven and eig  but six. Surely I s be o- nigo say to ed again to introduce t of Grace Poole, and to  ed to ask  empt; and if so,  little mattered ated urns; it inct aled me from going too far; beyond tion I never ventured; on treme brink I liked o try my skill. Retaining every minute form of respect, every propriety of my station, I could still meet   fear or uneasy restraint; ted both him and me.

    A tread creaked on tairs at last. Lea it o intimate t tea  least to go doairs; for t brougo Mr. Rocer’s presence.

    “You must  your tea,” said te so little at dinner. I am afraid,” sinued, “you are not o-day: you look flushed and feverish.”

    “Oe  better.”

    “t prove it by evincing a good appetite; eapot ed ask, so drao kept up, by  of daylig deepening into total obscurity.

    “It is fair to-nig starliger he whole, had a favourable day for his journey.”

    “Journey!—Is Mr. Rocer gone anyw know .”

    “O of t ed! o ton’s place, ten miles on te. I believe te a party assembled t, and others.”

    “Do you expect o-night?”

    “No—nor to-morroo stay a ogety, so  can please and entertain, to separate. Gentlemen especially are often in request on sucer is so talented and so lively in society, t I believe e: t ted to recommend icularly in t I suppose s and abilities, pertle fault of look.”

    “Are t the Leas?”

    “ton and ers—very elegant young ladies indeed; and t beautiful y Mr. Rocer gave. You s day— ed, ly lit up! I sy ladies and gentlemen present—all of t county families; and Miss Ingram he evening.”

    “You saw  was she like?”

    “Yes, I saime, ts o assemble in to er  do corner and cly dressed; most of t least most of t Miss Ingram ainly the queen.”

    “And w was she like?”

    “tall, fine bust, sloping sures; eyes rater’s: large and black, and as brilliant as s be t, t curls I ever saied at too, in  contrasted ty mass of her curls.”

    “Sly admired, of course?”

    “Yes, indeed: and not only for y, but for s. Sleman accompanied er sang a duet.”

    “Mr. Rocer? I  aware he could sing.”

    “O taste for music.”

    “And Miss Ingram:  of a voice had she?”

    “A very ricfully; it reat to listen to er Mr. Rocer is; and I ion was remarkably good.”

    “And tiful and accomplis yet married?”

    “It appears not: I fancy neiter unes. Old Lord Ingram’s estates  son came in for everyt.”

    “But I leman aken a fancy to er, for instance. ?”

    “O you see ter is nearly forty; s ty-five.”

    “ of t? More unequal matches are made every day.”

    “true: yet I ser ertain an idea of t. But you eat notasted since you began tea.”

    “No: I am too ty to eat. ill you let me her cup?”

    I  again to revert to ty of a union betiful Blanc Adèle came in, and tion urned into another channel.

    ion I ; looked into my , examined its ts and feelings, and endeavoured to bring back rict raying tion’s boundless and trackless e, into the safe fold of common sense.

    Arraigned at my os I  nigate of mind in  to t:—

    t a greater fool t a more fantastic idiot ed  lies, and s ar.

    “You,” I said, “a favourite er? You gifted ance to okens of preference—equivocal tokens sleman of family and a man of to a dependent and a novice. upid dupe!—Could not even self- interest make you ed to yourself t nig does good to no o be flattered by  possibly intend to marry  is madness in all o let a secret love kindle urned and unkno devour t feeds it; and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis-fatus-like, into miry ion.

    “Listen, to your sentence: tomorroure, fait softening one defect; omit no y; e under it, ‘Portrait of a Governess, disconnected, poor, and plain.’

    “Afterake a piece of smootake your palette, mix your fres, finest, clearest tints; c delicate camel-e carefully t face you can imagine; paint it in your softest sest lines, according to tion given by Mrs. Fairfax of Blancs, tal eye;—! you revert to Mr. Rocer as a model! Order! No snivel!—no sentiment!—no regret! I ion. Recall t yet s, t; let te  neit; portray faittire, aerial lace and glistening satin, graceful scarf and golden rose; call it ‘Blanche, an accomplished lady of rank.’

    “ure, you so fancy Mr. Rocer take out tures and compare ter mig noble lady’s love, if o strive for it; is it likely e a serious t on t and insignificant plebeian?’”

    “I’ll do it,” I resolved: and ermination, I grew calm, and fell asleep.

    I kept my o sketcrait in crayons; and in less tniged an ivory miniature of an imaginary Blanc looked a lovely face enougrast  as self-control could desire. I derived benefit from task: it  my o to stamp indelibly on my .

    Ere long, I o congratulate myself on to . to it, I o meet subsequent occurrences  calm, ain, even externally.