It was answered at once by a tall, strongly built woman, with a colorless, stolid countenance,--that might have been carved out of wood for any expression it had in it.
"Ulrika," said Mr.Dyceworthy blandly, "you can clear the table." Ulrika, without answering, began to pack the tea-things together in a methodical way, without clattering so much as a plate or spoon, and, piling them compactly on a tray, was about to leave the room, when Mr.
Dyceworthy called to her, "Ulrika!" "Sir ?" "Did you ever see a thing like this before ?" and he held up the crucifix to her gaze.
The woman shuddered, and her dull eyes lit up with a sudden terror.
"It is the witch's charm!" she muttered thickly, while her pale face grew yet paler.

"Burn it, sir!--burn it, and the power will leave her." Mr.Dyceworthy laughed indulgently.

"My good woman, you mistake," he said suavely.

"Your zeal for the true gospel leads you into error.

There are thousands of misguided persons who worship such a thing as this.