He was summoned to prescribe for a person whom I have had occasion to present to you in these pages--our second housemaid, Rosanna Spearman.
This poor girl--who had puzzled me, as you know already, at the Shivering Sand--puzzled me more than once again, in the interval time of which I am now writing.

Penelope's notion that her fellow-servant was in love with Mr.Franklin (which my daughter, by my orders, kept strictly secret) seemed to be just as absurd as ever.

But I must own that what I myself saw, and what my daughter saw also, of our second housemaid's conduct, began to look mysterious, to say the least of it.
For example, the girl constantly put herself in Mr.Franklin's way--very slyly and quietly, but she did it.

He took about as much notice of her as he took of the cat; it never seemed to occur to him to waste a look on Rosanna's plain face.

The poor thing's appetite, never much, fell away dreadfully; and her eyes in the morning showed plain signs of waking and crying at night.