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think they indicate to me my own course now。”
Sir Leicester’s magnificence explodes。 Calmly； but terribly。
“Mr Rouncewell；” says Sir Leicester； with his right hand in the
breast of his blue coat—the attitude of state in which he is painted
in the gallery： “do you draw a parallel between Chesney Wold； and
a—” here he resists a disposition to choke—“a factory？”
“I need not reply； Sir Leicester； that the two places are very
different； but； for the purposes of this case； I think a parallel may
be justly drawn between them。”
Sir Leicester directs his majestic glance down one side of the
long drawing…room； and up the other； before he can believe that
he is awake。
“Are you aware； sir； that this young woman whom my Lady—
my Lady—has placed near her person； was brought up at the
village school outside the gates？”
“Sir Leicester； I am quite aware of it。 A very good school it is；
and handsomely supported by this family。”
“Then； Mr Rouncewell；” returns Sir Leicester； “the application
of what you have said； is； to me； incomprehensible。”
“Will it be more comprehensible； Sir Leicester； if I say；” the
ironmaster is reddening a little； “that I do not regard the village…
school as teaching everything desirable to be known by my son’s
wife？”
From the village school of Chesney Wold； intact as it is this
minute； to the whole framework of society； from the whole
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framework of society； to the aforesaid framework receiving
tremendous cracks in consequence of people （ironmasters； lead…
mistresses； and what not） not minding their catechism； and getting
out of the station unto which they are called—necessarily and for
ever； according to Sir Leicester’s rapid logic； the first station in
which they happen to find themselves； and from that； to their
educating other people out of their stations； and so obliterating the
landmarks； and opening the floodgates； and all the rest of it； this is
the swift progress of the Dedlock mind。
“My Lady； I beg your pardon。 Permit me for one moment！” She
has given a faint indication of intending to speak。 “Mr Rouncewell；
our views of duty； and our views of station； and our views of
education； and our views of—in short； all our views—are so
diametrically opposed； that to prolong this discussion must be
repellant to your feelings； and repellant to my own。 This young
woman is honoured with my Lady’s notice and favour。 If she
wishes to withdraw herself from that notice and favour； or if she
chooses to place herself under the influence of any one who may；
in his peculiar opinions—you will allow me to say； in his peculiar
opinions； though I readily admit that he is not accountable for
them to me—who may； in his peculiar opinions； withdraw her
from that notice and favour； she is at any time at liberty to do so。
We are obliged to you for the plainness with which you have
spoken。 It will have no effect of itself； one way or other； on the
young woman’s position here。 Beyond this； we can make no terms；
and here we beg—if you will be so good—to leave the subject。”
The visitor pauses a moment to give my Lady an opportunity；
but she says nothing。 He then rises and replies：—
“Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock； allow me to thank you for
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your attention； and only to observe that I shall very seriously
recommend my son to conquer his present inclinations。 Good
night！”
“Mr Rouncewell；” says Sir Leicester； with all the nature of a
gentleman shining in him； “it is late； and the roads are dark。 I
hope your time is not so precious but that you will allow my Lady
and myself to offer you the hospitality of Chesney Wold； for
tonight at least。”
“I hope so；” adds my Lady。
“I am much obliged to you； but I have to travel all night； in
order to reach a distant part of the country； punctually at an
appointed time in the morning。”
Therewith the ironmaster takes his departure； Sir Leicester
ringing the bell； and my Lady rising as he leaves the room。
When my Lady goes to her boudoir； she sits down thoughtfully
by the fire； and； inattentive to the Ghost’s Walk； looks at Rosa；
writing in an inner room。 Presently my Lady calls her。
“Come to me； child。 Tell me the truth。 Are you in love？”
“O！ My lady！”
My Lady； looking at the downcast and blushing face； says
smiling：
“Who is it？ Is it Mrs Rouncewell’s grandson？”
“Yes； if you please； my Lady。 But I don’t know that I am in love
with him—yet。”
“Yet； you silly little thing！ Do you know that he loves you； yet？”
“I think he likes me a little； my Lady。” And Rosa bursts into
tears。
Is this Lady Dedlock standing beside the village beauty；
smoothing her dark hair with that motherly touch； and watching
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her with eyes so full of musing interest？ Aye； indeed it is！
“Listen to me； child。 You are young and true； and I believe you
are attached to me。”
“Indeed I am； my Lady。 Indeed there is nothing in the world I
wouldn’t do； to show how much。”
“And I don’t think you would wish to leave me just yet； Rosa；
even for a lover。”
“No； my Lady！ O no！” Rosa looks up for the first time； quite
frightened at the thought。
“Confide in me； my child。 Don’t fear me。 I wish you to be happy；
and will make you so—if I can make anybody happy on this earth。”
Rosa； with fresh tears； kneels at her feet and kisses her hand。
My Lady takes the hand with which she has caught it； and；
standing with her eyes fixed on the fire； puts it about and about
between her own two hands； and gradually lets it fall。 Seeing her
so absorbed； Rosa softly withdraws； but still my Lady’s eyes are on
the fire。
In search of what？ Of any hand that is no more； of any hand
that never was； of any touch that might have magically changed
her life？ Or does she listen to the Ghost’s Walk； and think what
step does it most resemble？ A man’s？ A woman’s？ The pattering
of a little child’s feet； ever coming on…on…on？ Some melancholy
influence is upon her； or why should so proud a lady close the
doors； and sit alone upon the hearth so desolate？
Volumnia is away next day； and all the cousins are scattered
before dinner。 Not a cousin of the bat