ll-of-the-wisp, till he lured boats
to get stranded, or horsemen to get stuck, in the hopeless mud, Anne
never questioned the possibility, but listened with wide open eyes,
and a restrained shudder, feeling as if under a spell. That
mysterious childish feeling which dreads even what common sense
forbids the calmer mind to believe, made her credit Peregrine, for
the time at least, with strange affinities to the underground folk,
and kept her under a strange fascination, half attraction, half
repulsion, which made her feel as if she must obey and follow him if
he turned those eyes on her, whether she were willing or not.
Nor did she ever tell her mother of these conversations. She had
been rebuked once for repeating nurse's story of the changeling, and
again for her shrinking from him; and this was quite enough in an
essentially reserved, as well as proud and sensitive, nature, to
prevent further confidences on a subject which she knew would be
treated as a foolish fancy, bringing both herself and her companion
into trouble.
CHAPTER V: PEREGRINE'S HOME
"For, at a word, be it understood,
He was always for ill and never for good."
SCOTT.
A week had passed since any of the family from Oakwood had come to
make inquiries after the convalescent at Portchester, when Dr.
Woodford mounted his sleek, sober-paced pad, and accompanied by a
groom, rode over to make his report and tender his counsel to Major
Oakshott. He arrived just as the great bell was clanging to summon
the family to the mid-day meal, since he had reckoned on the Squire
being more amenable as a 'full man,' especially towards a guest, and
he was well aware that the Major was thoroughly a gentleman in
behaviour even to those with whom he differed in politics and
religion.
Accordingly there was a ready welcome at the door of the old red
house, which was somewhat gloomy looking, being on the north side of
the hill, and a good deal stifled with trees. In a brief interval
the Doctor found himself seated beside the pale languid lady at the
head of the long table, placed in a large hall, wainscotted with the
blackest of oak, which seemed to absorb into itself all the light
from the windows, large enough indeed but heavily mullioned, and
with almost as much of leading as of octagons and lozenges--greenish
glass--in them, while the coats of arms, repeated in upper portions
and at the intersections of beams and rafters, were not more
cheerful, being
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