one, broke the thread of my musings. Mr Mason, shivering as someone chanced to open the door, asked for more coal to be put on the fire, which had burnt out its flame, though its mass of cinder still shone hot and red. The footman who brought the coal, in going out, stopped near Mr Eshton’s chair, and said something to him in a low voice, of which I heard only the words, ‘old woman’ – ‘quite troublesome.’
‘Tell her she shall be put in the stocks if she does not take herself off,’ replied the magistrate.
‘No – stop!’ interrupted Colonel Dent. ‘Don’t send her away, Eshton; we might turn the thing to account; better consult the ladies.’ And, speaking aloud, he continued – ‘Ladies, you talked of going to Hay Common to visit the gipsy camp; Sam, here, says that one of the old Mother Bunches10 is in the servants’ hall at this moment, and insists upon being brought in before “the quality,” to tell them their fortunes. Would you like to see her?’
‘Surely, colonel,’ cried Lady Ingram, ‘you would not encourage such a low imposter? Dismiss her, by all means, at once!’
‘But I cannot persuade her to go away, my lady,’ said the footman; ‘nor can any of the servants: Mrs Fairfax is with her just now, entreating her to be gone; but she has taken a chair in the chimney-corner, and says nothing shall stir her from it till she gets leave to come in here.’
‘What does she want?’ asked Mrs Eshton.
‘“To tell the gentry their fortunes,” she says, ma’am; and she swears she must and will do it.’
‘What is she like?’ inquired the Misses Eshton, in a breath.
‘A shockingly ugly old creature, miss; almost as black as a crock.’11
‘Why, she’s a real sorceress!’ cried Frederick Lynn. ‘Let us have her in, of course.’
‘To be sure,’ rejoined his brother; ‘it would be a thousand pities to throw away such a chance of fun.’
‘My dear boys, what are you thinking about?’ exclaimed Mrs Lynn.
‘I cannot possibly countenance any such inconsistent proceeding,’ chimed in the Dowager Ingram.
‘Indeed, mama, but you can – and will,’ pronounced the haughty voice of Blanche, as she turned round on the piano-stool; where till now she had sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of music. ‘I have a curiosity to hear my fortune told: therefore, Sam, order the beldame forward.’
‘My darling Blanche! recollect—’
‘I do – I recollect all you can suggest: and I must have my will – quick, Sam!’
‘Yes – yes – yes!’ cried all the juveniles, both ladies and gentlemen. ‘Let her come – it will be excellent sport!’
The footman still lingered. ‘She looks such a rough one,’ said he.
‘Go!’ ejaculated Miss Ingram, and the man went.
Excitement instantly seized the whole party: a running fire of raillery and jests was proceeding when Sam returned.
‘She won’t come now,’ said he. ‘She says it’s not her mission to appear before the “vulgar herd” (them’s her words). I must show her into a room by herself, and then those who wish to consult her must go to her one by one.’
‘You see now, my queenly Blanche,’ began Lady Ingram, ‘she encroaches. Be advised, my angel girl – and—’
‘Show her into the library, of course,’ cut in the ‘angel girl.’ ‘It is not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd either: I mean to have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the library?’
‘Yes, ma’am – but she looks such a tinkler.’12
‘Cease that chatter, blockhead! and do my bidding.’
Again Sam vanished; and mystery, animation, expectation rose to full flow once more.
‘She’s ready now,’ said the footman, as he reappeared.
‘She wishes to know who will be her first visitor.’
‘I think I had better just look in upon her before any of the ladies go,’ said Colonel Dent.
‘Tell her, Sam, a gentleman is coming.’
Sam went and returned.
‘She says, sir, that she’ll have no gentleman; they need not trouble themselves to come near her; nor,’ he added, with difficulty suppressing a titter, ‘any ladies either, except the young and single.’
‘By Jove, she has taste!’ exclaimed Henry Lynn.
Miss Ingram rose solemnly: ‘I go first,’ she said, in a tone which might have befitted the leader of a forlorn hope, mounting a breach in the van of his men.
‘Oh, my best! oh, my dearest! pause – reflect!’ was her mama’s cry; but she swept past her in stately silence, passed through the door which Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the library.