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"
It
’
s
two
young
men
in
a
gig
,
ma
’
am
,
who
want
to
see
the
house
—
yes
,
and
if
you
please
,
I
told
them
so
!
"
in
quick
reply
to
a
gesture
of
dissent
from
the
housekeeper
.
"
I
went
to
the
hall
-
door
and
told
them
it
was
the
wrong
day
and
the
wrong
hour
,
but
the
young
man
who
was
driving
took
off
his
hat
in
the
wet
and
begged
me
to
bring
this
card
to
you
.
"
"
Read
it
,
my
dear
Watt
,
"
says
the
housekeeper
.
Rosa
is
so
shy
as
she
gives
it
to
him
that
they
drop
it
between
them
and
almost
knock
their
foreheads
together
as
they
pick
it
up
.
Rosa
is
shyer
than
before
.
"
Mr
.
Guppy
"
is
all
the
information
the
card
yields
.
"
Guppy
!
"
repeats
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
,
"
MR
.
Guppy
!
Nonsense
,
I
never
heard
of
him
!
"
"
If
you
please
,
he
told
ME
that
!
"
says
Rosa
.
"
But
he
said
that
he
and
the
other
young
gentleman
came
from
London
only
last
night
by
the
mail
,
on
business
at
the
magistrates
’
meeting
,
ten
miles
off
,
this
morning
,
and
that
as
their
business
was
soon
over
,
and
they
had
heard
a
great
deal
said
of
Chesney
Wold
,
and
really
didn
’
t
know
what
to
do
with
themselves
,
they
had
come
through
the
wet
to
see
it
.
They
are
lawyers
.
He
says
he
is
not
in
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
’
s
office
,
but
he
is
sure
he
may
make
use
of
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
’
s
name
if
necessary
.
"
Finding
,
now
she
leaves
off
,
that
she
has
been
making
quite
a
long
speech
,
Rosa
is
shyer
than
ever
.
Now
,
Mr
.
Tulkinghorn
is
,
in
a
manner
,
part
and
parcel
of
the
place
,
and
besides
,
is
supposed
to
have
made
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
’
s
will
.
The
old
lady
relaxes
,
consents
to
the
admission
of
the
visitors
as
a
favour
,
and
dismisses
Rosa
.
The
grandson
,
however
,
being
smitten
by
a
sudden
wish
to
see
the
house
himself
,
proposes
to
join
the
party
.
The
grandmother
,
who
is
pleased
that
he
should
have
that
interest
,
accompanies
him
—
though
to
do
him
justice
,
he
is
exceedingly
unwilling
to
trouble
her
.
"
Much
obliged
to
you
,
ma
’
am
!
"
says
Mr
.
Guppy
,
divesting
himself
of
his
wet
dreadnought
in
the
hall
.
"
Us
London
lawyers
don
’
t
often
get
an
out
,
and
when
we
do
,
we
like
to
make
the
most
of
it
,
you
know
.
"
The
old
housekeeper
,
with
a
gracious
severity
of
deportment
,
waves
her
hand
towards
the
great
staircase
.
Mr
.
Guppy
and
his
friend
follow
Rosa
;
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
and
her
grandson
follow
them
;
a
young
gardener
goes
before
to
open
the
shutters
.
As
is
usually
the
case
with
people
who
go
over
houses
,
Mr
.
Guppy
and
his
friend
are
dead
beat
before
they
have
well
begun
.
They
straggle
about
in
wrong
places
,
look
at
wrong
things
,
don
’
t
care
for
the
right
things
,
gape
when
more
rooms
are
opened
,
exhibit
profound
depression
of
spirits
,
and
are
clearly
knocked
up
.
In
each
successive
chamber
that
they
enter
,
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
,
who
is
as
upright
as
the
house
itself
,
rests
apart
in
a
window
-
seat
or
other
such
nook
and
listens
with
stately
approval
to
Rosa
’
s
exposition
.
Her
grandson
is
so
attentive
to
it
that
Rosa
is
shyer
than
ever
—
and
prettier
.
Thus
they
pass
on
from
room
to
room
,
raising
the
pictured
Dedlocks
for
a
few
brief
minutes
as
the
young
gardener
admits
the
light
,
and
reconsigning
them
to
their
graves
as
he
shuts
it
out
again
.
It
appears
to
the
afflicted
Mr
.
Guppy
and
his
inconsolable
friend
that
there
is
no
end
to
the
Dedlocks
,
whose
family
greatness
seems
to
consist
in
their
never
having
done
anything
to
distinguish
themselves
for
seven
hundred
years
.
Even
the
long
drawing
-
room
of
Chesney
Wold
cannot
revive
Mr
.
Guppy
’
s
spirits
.
He
is
so
low
that
he
droops
on
the
threshold
and
has
hardly
strength
of
mind
to
enter
.
But
a
portrait
over
the
chimney
-
piece
,
painted
by
the
fashionable
artist
of
the
day
,
acts
upon
him
like
a
charm
.
He
recovers
in
a
moment
.
He
stares
at
it
with
uncommon
interest
;
he
seems
to
be
fixed
and
fascinated
by
it
.
"
Dear
me
!
"
says
Mr
.
Guppy
.
"
Who
’
s
that
?
"
"
The
picture
over
the
fire
-
place
,
"
says
Rosa
,
"
is
the
portrait
of
the
present
Lady
Dedlock
.
It
is
considered
a
perfect
likeness
,
and
the
best
work
of
the
master
.
"
"
Blest
,
"
says
Mr
.
Guppy
,
staring
in
a
kind
of
dismay
at
his
friend
,
"
if
I
can
ever
have
seen
her
.
Yet
I
know
her
!
Has
the
picture
been
engraved
,
miss
?
"
"
The
picture
has
never
been
engraved
.
Sir
Leicester
has
always
refused
permission
.
"
"
Well
!
"
says
Mr
.
Guppy
in
a
low
voice
.
"
I
’
ll
be
shot
if
it
ain
’
t
very
curious
how
well
I
know
that
picture
!
So
that
’
s
Lady
Dedlock
,
is
it
!
"
"
The
picture
on
the
right
is
the
present
Sir
Leicester
Dedlock
.
The
picture
on
the
left
is
his
father
,
the
late
Sir
Leicester
.
"
Mr
.
Guppy
has
no
eyes
for
either
of
these
magnates
.
"
It
’
s
unaccountable
to
me
,
"
he
says
,
still
staring
at
the
portrait
,
"
how
well
I
know
that
picture
!
I
’
m
dashed
,
"
adds
Mr
.
Guppy
,
looking
round
,
"
if
I
don
’
t
think
I
must
have
had
a
dream
of
that
picture
,
you
know
!
"
As
no
one
present
takes
any
especial
interest
in
Mr
.
Guppy
’
s
dreams
,
the
probability
is
not
pursued
.
But
he
still
remains
so
absorbed
by
the
portrait
that
he
stands
immovable
before
it
until
the
young
gardener
has
closed
the
shutters
,
when
he
comes
out
of
the
room
in
a
dazed
state
that
is
an
odd
though
a
sufficient
substitute
for
interest
and
follows
into
the
succeeding
rooms
with
a
confused
stare
,
as
if
he
were
looking
everywhere
for
Lady
Dedlock
again
.
He
sees
no
more
of
her
.
He
sees
her
rooms
,
which
are
the
last
shown
,
as
being
very
elegant
,
and
he
looks
out
of
the
windows
from
which
she
looked
out
,
not
long
ago
,
upon
the
weather
that
bored
her
to
death
.
All
things
have
an
end
,
even
houses
that
people
take
infinite
pains
to
see
and
are
tired
of
before
they
begin
to
see
them
.
He
has
come
to
the
end
of
the
sight
,
and
the
fresh
village
beauty
to
the
end
of
her
description
;
which
is
always
this
:
"
The
terrace
below
is
much
admired
.
It
is
called
,
from
an
old
story
in
the
family
,
the
Ghost
’
s
Walk
.
"
"
No
?
"
says
Mr
.
Guppy
,
greedily
curious
.
"
What
’
s
the
story
,
miss
?
Is
it
anything
about
a
picture
?
"
"
Pray
tell
us
the
story
,
"
says
Watt
in
a
half
whisper
.
"
I
don
’
t
know
it
,
sir
.
"
Rosa
is
shyer
than
ever
.
"
It
is
not
related
to
visitors
;
it
is
almost
forgotten
,
"
says
the
housekeeper
,
advancing
.
"
It
has
never
been
more
than
a
family
anecdote
.
"
"
You
’
ll
excuse
my
asking
again
if
it
has
anything
to
do
with
a
picture
,
ma
’
am
,
"
observes
Mr
.
Guppy
,
"
because
I
do
assure
you
that
the
more
I
think
of
that
picture
the
better
I
know
it
,
without
knowing
how
I
know
it
!
"
The
story
has
nothing
to
do
with
a
picture
;
the
housekeeper
can
guarantee
that
.
Mr
.
Guppy
is
obliged
to
her
for
the
information
and
is
,
moreover
,
generally
obliged
.
He
retires
with
his
friend
,
guided
down
another
staircase
by
the
young
gardener
,
and
presently
is
heard
to
drive
away
.
It
is
now
dusk
.
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
can
trust
to
the
discretion
of
her
two
young
hearers
and
may
tell
THEM
how
the
terrace
came
to
have
that
ghostly
name
.
She
seats
herself
in
a
large
chair
by
the
fast
-
darkening
window
and
tells
them
:
"
In
the
wicked
days
,
my
dears
,
of
King
Charles
the
First
—
I
mean
,
of
course
,
in
the
wicked
days
of
the
rebels
who
leagued
themselves
against
that
excellent
king
—
Sir
Morbury
Dedlock
was
the
owner
of
Chesney
Wold
.
Whether
there
was
any
account
of
a
ghost
in
the
family
before
those
days
,
I
can
’
t
say
.
I
should
think
it
very
likely
indeed
.
"
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
holds
this
opinion
because
she
considers
that
a
family
of
such
antiquity
and
importance
has
a
right
to
a
ghost
.
She
regards
a
ghost
as
one
of
the
privileges
of
the
upper
classes
,
a
genteel
distinction
to
which
the
common
people
have
no
claim
.
"
Sir
Morbury
Dedlock
,
"
says
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
,
"
was
,
I
have
no
occasion
to
say
,
on
the
side
of
the
blessed
martyr
.
But
it
IS
supposed
that
his
Lady
,
who
had
none
of
the
family
blood
in
her
veins
,
favoured
the
bad
cause
.
It
is
said
that
she
had
relations
among
King
Charles
’
s
enemies
,
that
she
was
in
correspondence
with
them
,
and
that
she
gave
them
information
.
When
any
of
the
country
gentlemen
who
followed
his
Majesty
’
s
cause
met
here
,
it
is
said
that
my
Lady
was
always
nearer
to
the
door
of
their
council
-
room
than
they
supposed
.
Do
you
hear
a
sound
like
a
footstep
passing
along
the
terrace
,
Watt
?
"
Rosa
draws
nearer
to
the
housekeeper
.
"
I
hear
the
rain
-
drip
on
the
stones
,
"
replies
the
young
man
,
"
and
I
hear
a
curious
echo
—
I
suppose
an
echo
—
which
is
very
like
a
halting
step
.
"
The
housekeeper
gravely
nods
and
continues
:
"
Partly
on
account
of
this
division
between
them
,
and
partly
on
other
accounts
,
Sir
Morbury
and
his
Lady
led
a
troubled
life
.
She
was
a
lady
of
a
haughty
temper
.
They
were
not
well
suited
to
each
other
in
age
or
character
,
and
they
had
no
children
to
moderate
between
them
.
After
her
favourite
brother
,
a
young
gentleman
,
was
killed
in
the
civil
wars
(
by
Sir
Morbury
’
s
near
kinsman
)
,
her
feeling
was
so
violent
that
she
hated
the
race
into
which
she
had
married
.
When
the
Dedlocks
were
about
to
ride
out
from
Chesney
Wold
in
the
king
’
s
cause
,
she
is
supposed
to
have
more
than
once
stolen
down
into
the
stables
in
the
dead
of
night
and
lamed
their
horses
;
and
the
story
is
that
once
at
such
an
hour
,
her
husband
saw
her
gliding
down
the
stairs
and
followed
her
into
the
stall
where
his
own
favourite
horse
stood
.
There
he
seized
her
by
the
wrist
,
and
in
a
struggle
or
in
a
fall
or
through
the
horse
being
frightened
and
lashing
out
,
she
was
lamed
in
the
hip
and
from
that
hour
began
to
pine
away
.
"
The
housekeeper
has
dropped
her
voice
to
a
little
more
than
a
whisper
.
"
She
had
been
a
lady
of
a
handsome
figure
and
a
noble
carriage
.
She
never
complained
of
the
change
;
she
never
spoke
to
any
one
of
being
crippled
or
of
being
in
pain
,
but
day
by
day
she
tried
to
walk
upon
the
terrace
,
and
with
the
help
of
the
stone
balustrade
,
went
up
and
down
,
up
and
down
,
up
and
down
,
in
sun
and
shadow
,
with
greater
difficulty
every
day
.
At
last
,
one
afternoon
her
husband
(
to
whom
she
had
never
,
on
any
persuasion
,
opened
her
lips
since
that
night
)
,
standing
at
the
great
south
window
,
saw
her
drop
upon
the
pavement
.
He
hastened
down
to
raise
her
,
but
she
repulsed
him
as
he
bent
over
her
,
and
looking
at
him
fixedly
and
coldly
,
said
,
’
I
will
die
here
where
I
have
walked
.
And
I
will
walk
here
,
though
I
am
in
my
grave
.
I
will
walk
here
until
the
pride
of
this
house
is
humbled
.
And
when
calamity
or
when
disgrace
is
coming
to
it
,
let
the
Dedlocks
listen
for
my
step
!
’
"
Watt
looks
at
Rosa
.
Rosa
in
the
deepening
gloom
looks
down
upon
the
ground
,
half
frightened
and
half
shy
.
"
There
and
then
she
died
.
And
from
those
days
,
"
says
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
,
"
the
name
has
come
down
—
the
Ghost
’
s
Walk
.
If
the
tread
is
an
echo
,
it
is
an
echo
that
is
only
heard
after
dark
,
and
is
often
unheard
for
a
long
while
together
.
But
it
comes
back
from
time
to
time
;
and
so
sure
as
there
is
sickness
or
death
in
the
family
,
it
will
be
heard
then
.
"
"
And
disgrace
,
grandmother
—
"
says
Watt
.
"
Disgrace
never
comes
to
Chesney
Wold
,
"
returns
the
housekeeper
.
Her
grandson
apologizes
with
"
True
.
True
.
"
"
That
is
the
story
.
Whatever
the
sound
is
,
it
is
a
worrying
sound
,
"
says
Mrs
.
Rouncewell
,
getting
up
from
her
chair
;
"
and
what
is
to
be
noticed
in
it
is
that
it
MUST
BE
HEARD
My
Lady
,
who
is
afraid
of
nothing
,
admits
that
when
it
is
there
,
it
must
be
heard
.
You
cannot
shut
it
out
.
Watt
,
there
is
a
tall
French
clock
behind
you
(
placed
there
,
’
a
purpose
)
that
has
a
loud
beat
when
it
is
in
motion
and
can
play
music
.
You
understand
how
those
things
are
managed
?
"
"
Pretty
well
,
grandmother
,
I
think
.
"
"
Set
it
a
-
going
.
"
Watt
sets
it
a
-
going
—
music
and
all
.
"
Now
,
come
hither
,
"
says
the
housekeeper
.
"
Hither
,
child
,
towards
my
Lady
’
s
pillow
.
I
am
not
sure
that
it
is
dark
enough
yet
,
but
listen
!
Can
you
hear
the
sound
upon
the
terrace
,
through
the
music
,
and
the
beat
,
and
everything
?
"
"
I
certainly
can
!
"
"
So
my
Lady
says
.
"
It
was
interesting
when
I
dressed
before
daylight
to
peep
out
of
window
,
where
my
candles
were
reflected
in
the
black
panes
like
two
beacons
,
and
finding
all
beyond
still
enshrouded
in
the
indistinctness
of
last
night
,
to
watch
how
it
turned
out
when
the
day
came
on
.
As
the
prospect
gradually
revealed
itself
and
disclosed
the
scene
over
which
the
wind
had
wandered
in
the
dark
,
like
my
memory
over
my
life
,
I
had
a
pleasure
in
discovering
the
unknown
objects
that
had
been
around
me
in
my
sleep
.
At
first
they
were
faintly
discernible
in
the
mist
,
and
above
them
the
later
stars
still
glimmered
.
That
pale
interval
over
,
the
picture
began
to
enlarge
and
fill
up
so
fast
that
at
every
new
peep
I
could
have
found
enough
to
look
at
for
an
hour
.
Imperceptibly
my
candles
became
the
only
incongruous
part
of
the
morning
,
the
dark
places
in
my
room
all
melted
away
,
and
the
day
shone
bright
upon
a
cheerful
landscape
,
prominent
in
which
the
old
Abbey
Church
,
with
its
massive
tower
,
threw
a
softer
train
of
shadow
on
the
view
than
seemed
compatible
with
its
rugged
character
.
But
so
from
rough
outsides
(
I
hope
I
have
learnt
)
,
serene
and
gentle
influences
often
proceed
.
Every
part
of
the
house
was
in
such
order
,
and
every
one
was
so
attentive
to
me
,
that
I
had
no
trouble
with
my
two
bunches
of
keys
,
though
what
with
trying
to
remember
the
contents
of
each
little
store
-
room
drawer
and
cupboard
;
and
what
with
making
notes
on
a
slate
about
jams
,
and
pickles
,
and
preserves
,
and
bottles
,
and
glass
,
and
china
,
and
a
great
many
other
things
;
and
what
with
being
generally
a
methodical
,
old
-
maidish
sort
of
foolish
little
person
,
I
was
so
busy
that
I
could
not
believe
it
was
breakfast
-
time
when
I
heard
the
bell
ring
.
Away
I
ran
,
however
,
and
made
tea
,
as
I
had
already
been
installed
into
the
responsibility
of
the
tea
-
pot
;
and
then
,
as
they
were
all
rather
late
and
nobody
was
down
yet
,
I
thought
I
would
take
a
peep
at
the
garden
and
get
some
knowledge
of
that
too
.
I
found
it
quite
a
delightful
place
—
in
front
,
the
pretty
avenue
and
drive
by
which
we
had
approached
(
and
where
,
by
the
by
,
we
had
cut
up
the
gravel
so
terribly
with
our
wheels
that
I
asked
the
gardener
to
roll
it
)
;
at
the
back
,
the
flower
-
garden
,
with
my
darling
at
her
window
up
there
,
throwing
it
open
to
smile
out
at
me
,
as
if
she
would
have
kissed
me
from
that
distance
.
Beyond
the
flower
-
garden
was
a
kitchen
-
garden
,
and
then
a
paddock
,
and
then
a
snug
little
rick
-
yard
,
and
then
a
dear
little
farm
-
yard
.
