me must once have existed
between the nameless fugitive from the Asylum, and the former mistress
of Limmeridge House.
"Even if I were the most restless of mankind," I said, "I should be in
no danger of thirsting after adventures for some time to come. The
very night before I arrived at this house, I met with an adventure; and
the wonder and excitement of it, I can assure you, Miss Halcombe, will
last me for the whole term of my stay in Cumberland, if not for a much
longer period."
"You don't say so, Mr. Hartright! May I hear it?"
"You have a claim to hear it. The chief person in the adventure was a
total stranger to me, and may perhaps be a total stranger to you; but
she certainly mentioned the name of the late Mrs. Fairlie in terms of
the sincerest gratitude and regard."
"Mentioned my mother's name! You interest me indescribably. Pray go
on."
I at once related the circumstances under which I had met the woman in
white, exactly as they had occurred; and I repeated what she had said
to me about Mrs. Fairlie and Limmeridge House, word for word.
Miss Halcombe's bright resolute eyes looked eagerly into mine, from the
beginning of the narrative to the end. Her face expressed vivid
interest and astonishment, but nothing more. She was evidently as far
from knowing of any clue to the mystery as I was myself.
"Are you quite sure of those words referring to my mother?" she asked.
"Quite sure," I replied. "Whoever she may be, the woman was once at
school in the village of Limmeridge, was treated with especial kindness
by Mrs. Fairlie, and, in grateful remembrance of that kindness, feels
an affectionate interest in all surviving members of the family. She
knew that Mrs. Fairlie and her husband were both dead; and she spoke of
Miss Fairlie as if they had known each other when they were children."
"You said, I think, that she denied belonging to this place?"
"Yes, she told me she came from Hampshire."
"And you entirely failed to find out her name?"
"Entirely."
"Very strange. I think you were quite justified, Mr. Hartright, in
giving the poor creature her liberty, for she seems to have done
nothing in your presence to show herself unfit to enjoy it. But I wish
you had been a little more resolute about finding out her name. We
must really clear up this mystery, in some way. You had better not
speak of it yet to Mr. Fairlie, or to my sister. They are both of them,
I am certain, quite as ignorant of
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