ady not far from eighty, I should think, but I do not know. She
was thin and tall, and had a face as full of fine wrinkles as if they
had been drawn all over it with a needle's point. Her eyes were very
watchful, to make up, I suppose, for her being so deaf as to be obliged
to use a trumpet. Sitting with her, working at the same great piece of
tapestry, was Mrs. Stark, her maid and companion, and almost as old as
she was. She had lived with Miss Furnivall ever since they both were
young, and now she seemed more like a friend than a servant; she looked
so cold, and grey, and stony, as if she had never loved or cared for
any one; and I don't suppose she did care for any one, except her
mistress; and, owing to the great deafness of the latter, Mrs. Stark
treated her very much as if she were a child. Mr. Henry gave some
message from my lord, and then he bowed good-by to us all,--taking no
notice of my sweet little Miss Rosamond's outstretched hand--and left
us standing there, being looked at by the two old ladies through their
spectacles.

I was right glad when they rung for the old footman who had shown us in
at first, and told him to take us to our rooms. So we went out of that
great drawing-room and into another sitting-room, and out of that, and
then up a great flight of stairs, and along a broad gallery--which was
something like a library, having books all down one side, and windows
and writing-tables all down the other--till we came to our rooms, which
I was not sorry to hear were just over the kitchens; for I began to
think I should be lost in that wilderness of a house. There was an old
nursery, that had been used for all the little lords and ladies long
ago, with a pleasant fire burning in the grate, and the kettle boiling
on the hob, and tea-things spread out on the table; and out of that
room was the night-nursery, with a little crib for Miss Rosamond close
to my bed. And old James called up Dorothy, his wife, to bid us
welcome; and both he and she were so hospitable and kind, that
by-and-by Miss Rosamond and me felt quite at home; and by the time tea
was over, she was sitting on Dorothy's knee, and chattering away as
fast as her little tongue could go. I soon found out that Dorothy was
from Westmoreland, and that bound her and me together, as it were; and
I would never wish to meet with kinder people than were old James and
his wife. James had lived pretty nearly all his life in my lord's
family, and thought the