shing is excellent. And what is more, you shall be introduced to a
lady whose appearance is sure to interest you, and whose history, I can
tell you beforehand, is a very remarkable one."

"Indeed," I said. "May I ask in what way?"

"She is connected," answered Mr. Garthwaite, "with an extraordinary
story, which relates to a family once settled in an old house in this
neighborhood. Her name is Miss Welwyn; but she is less formally known
an among the poor people about here, who love her dearly, and honor her
almost superstitiously, as the Lady of Glenwith Grange. Wait till you
have seen her before you ask me to say anything more. She lives in the
strictest retirement; I am almost the only visitor who is admitted.
Don't say you had rather not go in. Any friend of mine will be welcome
at the Grange (the scene of the story, remember), for my sake--the more
especially because I have never abused my privilege of introduction. The
place is not above two miles from here, and the stream (which we call,
in our county dialect, Glenwith Beck) runs through the ground."

As we walked on, Mr. Garthwaite's manner altered. He became unusually
silent and thoughtful. The mention of Miss Welwyn's name had evidently
called up some recollections which were not in harmony with his
every-day mood. Feeling that to talk to him on any indifferent subject
would be only to interrupt his thoughts to no purpose, I walked by his
side in perfect silence, looking out already with some curiosity and
impatience for a first view of Glenwith Grange. We stopped at last close
by an old church, standing on the outskirts of a pretty village. The low
wall of the churchyard was bounded on one side by a plantation, and was
joined by a park paling, in which I noticed a small wicket-gate. Mr.
Garthwaite opened it, and led me along a shrubbery path, which conducted
us circuitously to the dwelling-house.

We had evidently entered by a private way, for we approached the
building by the back. I looked up at it curiously, and saw standing at
one of the windows on the lower floor a little girl watching us as we
advanced. She seemed to be about nine or ten years old. I could not help
stopping a moment to look up at her, her clear complexion and her
long dark hair were so beautiful. And yet there was something in her
expression--a dimness and vacancy in her large eyes--a changeless,
unmeaning smile on her parted lips--which seemed to jar with all that
was naturally attrac