urious dimness and dullness in her eyes--not as if she had been crying
but as if she had been looking at something too long. Possibly, it was
a misty something raised by her own thoughts. There was certainly no
object about her to look at which she had not seen already hundreds on
hundreds of times.

"Cheer up, Rosanna!" I said. "You mustn't fret over your own fancies. I
have got something to say to you from Mr. Franklin."

I thereupon put the matter in the right view before her, in the
friendliest and most comforting words I could find. My principles, in
regard to the other sex, are, as you may have noticed, very severe. But
somehow or other, when I come face to face with the women, my practice
(I own) is not conformable.

"Mr. Franklin is very kind and considerate. Please to thank him." That
was all the answer she made me.

My daughter had already noticed that Rosanna went about her work like
a woman in a dream. I now added to this observation, that she also
listened and spoke like a woman in a dream. I doubted if her mind was in
a fit condition to take in what I had said to her.

"Are you quite sure, Rosanna, that you understand me?" I asked.

"Quite sure."

She echoed me, not like a living woman, but like a creature moved by
machinery. She went on sweeping all the time. I took away the broom as
gently and as kindly as I could.

"Come, come, my girl!" I said, "this is not like yourself. You have got
something on your mind. I'm your friend--and I'll stand your friend,
even if you have done wrong. Make a clean breast of it, Rosanna--make a
clean breast of it!"

The time had been, when my speaking to her in that way would have
brought the tears into her eyes. I could see no change in them now.

"Yes," she said, "I'll make a clean breast of it."

"To my lady?" I asked.

"No."

"To Mr. Franklin?"

"Yes; to Mr. Franklin."

I hardly knew what to say to that. She was in no condition to understand
the caution against speaking to him in private, which Mr. Franklin had
directed me to give her. Feeling my way, little by little, I only told
her Mr. Franklin had gone out for a walk.

"It doesn't matter," she answered. "I shan't trouble Mr. Franklin,
to-day."

"Why not speak to my lady?" I said. "The way to relieve your mind is to
speak to the merciful and Christian mistress who has always been kind to
you."

She looked at me for a moment with a grave and steady attention, as if
she was fixing what I said i