She approached the ſmall grated window of her chamber, and for a conſiderable time only regarded the blue expanſe; though it commanded a view of a deſolate garden, and of part of a huge pile of buildings, that, after having been ſuffered, for half a century, to fall to decay, had undergone ſome clumſy repairs, merely to render it habitable. The ivy had been torn off the turrets, and the ſtones not wanted to patch up the breaches of time, and exclude the warring elements, left in heaps in the diſordered court. Maria contemplated this ſcene ſhe knew not how long; or rather gazed on the walls, and pondered on her ſituation. To the maſter of this moſt horrid of priſons, ſhe had, ſoon after her entrance, raved of injuſtice, in accents that would have juſtified his treatment, had not a malignant ſmile, when ſhe appealed to his judgment, with a dreadful conviction ſtifled her remonſtrating complaints. By force, or openly, what could be done? But ſurely ſome expedient might occur to an active mind, without any other employment, and poſſeſſed of ſufficient reſolution to put the riſk of life into the balance with the chance of freedom.
A woman entered in the midſt of theſe reflections, with a firm, deliberate ſtep, ſtrongly marked features, and large black eyes, which ſhe fixed ſteadily on Maria's, as if ſhe deſigned to intimidate her, ſaying at the ſame time—"You had better ſit down and eat your dinner, than look at the clouds."
"I have no appetite," replied Maria, who had previouſly determined to ſpeak mildly, "why then ſhould I eat?"
"But, in ſpite of that, you muſt and ſhall eat ſomething. I have had many ladies under my care, who have reſolved to ſtarve themſelves; but, ſoon or late, they gave up their intent, as they recovered their ſenſes."
"Do you really think me mad?" aſked Maria, meeting the ſearching glance of her eye.
"Not juſt now. But what does that prove?—only that you muſt be the more carefully watched, for appearing at times ſo reaſonable. You have not touched a morſel ſince you entered the houſe."—Maria ſighed intelligibly.—"Could any thing but madneſs produce ſuch a diſguſt for food?"
"Yes, grief; you would not aſk the queſtion if you knew what it was." The attendant ſhook her head; and a ghaſtly ſmile of deſperate fortitude ſerved as a forcible reply, and made Maria pauſe, before ſhe added—"Yet I will take ſome refreſhment: I mean not to die.—No; I will preſerve my ſenſes; and convince even you, ſooner than you are aware of, that my intellects have never been diſturbed, though the exertion of them may have been ſuſpended by ſome infernal drug."
Doubt gathered ſtill thicker on the brow of her guard, as ſhe attempted to convict her of miſtake.
"Have patience!" exclaimed Maria, with a ſolemnity that inſpired awe. "My God! how have I been ſchooled into the practice!" A ſuffocation of voice betrayed the agonizing emotions ſhe was labouring to keep down; and conquering a qualm of diſguſt, ſhe calmly endeavoured to eat enough to prove her docility, perpetually turning to the ſuſpicious female, whoſe obſervation ſhe courted, while ſhe was making the bed and adjuſting the room.
"Come to me often," ſaid Maria, with a tone of perſuaſion, in conſequence of a vague plan that ſhe had haſtily adopted, when, after ſurveying this woman's form and features, ſhe felt convinced that ſhe had an underſtanding above the common ſtandard; "and believe me mad, till you are obliged to acknowledge the contrary." The woman was no fool, that is, ſhe was ſuperior to her claſs; nor had miſery quite petrified the life's-blood of humanity, to which reflections on our own miſfortunes only give a more orderly courſe. The manner, rather than the expoſtulations, of Maria made a ſlight ſuſpicion dart into her mind with correſponding ſympathy, which various other avocations, and the habit of baniſhing compunction, prevented her, for the preſent, from examining more minutely.
