Yes—the old woman gazed long and ardently upon the sweet countenance of that young creature,—gazed as if in an adoration forced upon a savage mind by the apparition of some radiant being from a heavenly sphere!
“Madam, I am waiting for you to reply to me,” said Agnes, looking down and blushing deeply, beneath the steadfast gaze thus fixed upon her.
“A thousand pardons, Miss Vernon,” exclaimed Mrs. Mortimer, recovering her self-possession. “I was lost in thought: many—many reflections, of a varied and conflicting nature, pressed upon my mind,—for I must inform you that I was once the occupant of this beautiful little house——”
“Indeed!” ejaculated the young lady, who now began to suspect—or, at least, thought that she had obtained a glimpse of—the motive which had brought her visitor thither. “You have come, then, to cast your eyes upon a spot which is familiar to you?”
“Precisely so, Miss Vernon,” said the old woman. “And now let me announce myself to you as Mrs. Mortimer. I am the widow of a General in the army, and have only just returned from India.”
“Oh! then I can well understand, my dear madam,” cried Agnes, firmly believing every word that was said to her,—“I can well understand your anxiety and longing to visit the place where you doubtless once dwelt with the husband you have lost.”
“You have read my purpose accurately, Miss,” said the old woman, wiping her eyes as if she were moved to tears by reminiscences of the past.
“But this is most singular, indeed!” suddenly exclaimed the young lady.
Mrs. Mortimer gazed upon her with astonishment; for the observation that had just escaped Miss Vernon’s lips was as extraordinary as the impulse which had prompted it was mysterious.
“Yes,” continued the beautiful creature: “this is indeed most singular!”