Flora had heard so much about this strange woman, that she had not called upon her on her first arrival in the town, though it must be confessed, that her curiosity was as much excited as her neighbours’. In her walks to and fro from her mother’s house, who resided within a short distance of the town, Flora had often encountered the sturdy pedestrian stumping along at full speed, and she had laughed heartily with her husband at her odd appearance; at her short petticoats, and the resolute manner in which she swung her cane, and planted it down upon the ground. She had often wondered how such an elephant of a woman could move so rapidly upon such small feet, which looked as if she had lost her own, and borrowed a pair of some child by the way.
She was always followed in all her rambles by a diminutive nondescript kind of dog—a tiny, long-haired, silky looking creature, the colour of coffee freshly ground, no bigger than a large squirrel, with brilliant black eyes, bushy tail, and a pert little face, which greatly resembled that animal.
Often, when moving at full speed along the dusty highway, its mistress would suddenly stop, vociferating at the top of her voice—“Muff! Muff! where are you, my incomparable Muff?” when the queer pet would bound up her dress like a cat, and settle itself down upon her arm, poking its black nose into her hand, or rearing up on its hind legs, to lick her face. They were an odd pair, so unlike, so widely disproportioned in size and motion, that Flora delighted in watching all their movements, and in drawing contrasts between the big woman and her small four-footed companion.
By some strange freak of fancy, Lyndsay and his wife had attracted the attention of Miss Carr, who never passed them in her long rambles without bestowing upon them a gracious bow and a smile, which displayed, at one gesture, all her glittering store of large, white teeth.
“I do believe, John, the strange woman means to pick acquaintance with us,” said Flora to her husband, one fine afternoon during the previous summer, as they were on their way to spend the evening with her mother at —— Hall. “Instead of passing us at her usual brisk trot, she has loitered at our pace for the last half-hour, smiling at us, and showing her white teeth, as if she were contemplating the possibility of an introduction. I wish she would break the ice; for I am dying with curiosity to know something about her.”
“You are very foolish,” said Lyndsay, who was not one of Miss Carr’s admirers, “to trouble your head about her. These eccentric people are often great bores; and, if you get acquainted with them, it is not easy to shake them off. She may be a very improper character. I hate mystery in any shape.”
“Oh, bless you!” said Flora, laughing: “she is too old and ugly for scandal of that sort. I should think, from her appearance, that she never had had a sweetheart in her life.”
“There’s no telling,” returned Lyndsay. “She may be lively and witty. Odd people possess an attraction in themselves. We are so much amused with them, that they fascinate us before we are aware. She has a good figure for her very voluminous proportions, and splendid trotters, which always possess charms for some men.”
“Now, don’t be censorious, husband dear. If she should speak to us—what then?”
“Answer her civilly, of course.”