"But how should the Baron find out what you thought?"
"By going to a negromancer. Such old cattle are to the full as cunning as their black master, and might strike one dumb."
"That, to be sure, (replied Roseline,) would be a heavy misfortune to those who were fond of hearing the sound of their own voice in preference to that of any other person."
"For my part, (said Audrey,) voice or no voice, I verily thinks something mendusly bad after all will happen to this crazy castle, for Thomas last night saw lights in the South tower, and the ghost of a young woman followed him in such a hurry, that, if he had not ran as fast as a hound, it would have stamped upon his heels. It went away like a sky-rocket, and the smell of sulphur almost sifficated the poor fellow, who will certainly have a parletic stroke."
Lady de Morney's bell now ringing, Audrey left the room, without having said half so much as she intended to do about the ghost, or unburthening her mind of a secret she heartily wished to reveal.
CHAP. IX.
When the family met at breakfast, the Baron appeared unusually affable, and Sir Philip in high spirits. A walk was proposed to take a view of the town, nunnery, and environs of the cattle. Roseline and her sisters were requested to be of the party, and they were very soon joined by De Clavering, De Willows, and Hugh Camelford. This little promenade was so pleasant, that it seemed to harmonize every mind, and to produce a redoubled and grateful relish for the early beauties of the infant spring.
"Already now the snow-drop dar'd appear,
The first pale blossom of th'unripened year,
As Flora's breath, by some transforming pow'r,
Had chang'd an icicle into a flow'r.
Its name and hue the scentless plant retains,
And Winter lingers in its icy veins."
The Baron, who had politely offered the assistance of his arm to Roseline, (which her father bade her accept,) whispered some very fine things in her ear in praise of her shape, beauty, and understanding,—told her it was a reproach on the taste and judgment of his sex that so charming a female had not put on hymeneal fetters;—it was a positive proof of the blindness of the god of love.
"Surely you forget, my lord, (replied the blushing Roseline,) that I have scarcely left off my leading strings, and am but just liberated from the confinement of the school."