the Park, attended by Rachael, a girl who acted occasionally as her
assistant in attending upon them. But not as usual did she return. It
was near the hour of breakfast, when Ellesmere, with an unwonted degree
of primness in her mouth and manner, came to acquaint her lady that
Mistress Deborah had not thought proper to come back from the Park,
though the breakfast hour approached so near.

"She will come, then, presently," said Lady Peveril with indifference.

Ellesmere gave a short and doubtful cough, and then proceeded to say,
that Rachael had been sent home with little Master Julian, and that
Mistress Deborah had been pleased to say, she would walk on with Miss
Bridgenorth as far as Moultrassie Holt; which was a point at which
the property of the Major, as matters now stood, bounded that of Sir
Geoffrey Peveril.

"Is the wench turned silly," exclaimed the lady, something angrily,
"that she does not obey my orders, and return at regular hours?"

"She may be turning silly," said Ellesmere mysteriously; "or she may
be turning too sly; and I think it were as well your ladyship looked to
it."

"Looked to what, Ellesmere?" said the lady impatiently. "You are
strangely oracular this morning. If you know anything to the prejudice
of this young woman, I pray you speak it out."

"I prejudice!" said Ellesmere; "I scorn to prejudice man, woman, or
child, in the way of a fellow-servant; only I wish your ladyship to look
about you, and use your own eyes--that is all."

"You bid me use my own eyes, Ellesmere; but I suspect," answered the
lady, "you would be better pleased were I contented to see through your
spectacles. I charge you--and you know I will be obeyed--I charge you to
tell me what you know or suspect about this girl, Deborah Debbitch."

"I see through spectacles!" exclaimed the indignant Abigail; "your
ladyship will pardon me in that, for I never use them, unless a pair
that belonged to my poor mother, which I put on when your ladyship
wants your pinners curiously wrought. No woman above sixteen ever did
white-seam without barnacles. And then as to suspecting, I suspect
nothing; for as your ladyship hath taken Mistress Deborah Debbitch from
under my hand, to be sure it is neither bread nor butter of mine. Only"
(here she began to speak with her lips shut, so as scarce to permit a
sound to issue, and mincing her words as if she pinched off the ends
of them before she suffered them to escape),--"only, madam, if Mi