I think this is a peculiar case--I must at least examine into it.

Young woman, rise, and pass before me into the house." {Hush, Hannah; I have a word to say to the woman: p323.jpg} With difficulty I obeyed him.

Presently I stood within that clean, bright kitchen--on the very hearth--trembling, sickening; conscious of an aspect in the last degree ghastly, wild, and weather-beaten.

The two ladies, their brother, Mr.St.John, the old servant, were all gazing at me.
"St.John, who is it ?" I heard one ask.
"I cannot tell: I found her at the door," was the reply.
"She does look white," said Hannah.
"As white as clay or death," was responded.

"She will fall: let her sit." And indeed my head swam: I dropped, but a chair received me.