ghosty, and all about it.'

So I recounted my experiences, to which, so far from laughing at me, she
listened with very special gravity.

'Does she write and receive many letters?'

I had seen her write letters, and supposed, though I could only recollect
one or two, that she received in proportion.

'Are _you_ Mary Quince?' asked my lady cousin.

Mary was arranging the window-curtains, and turned, dropping a courtesy
affirmatively toward her.

'You wait on my little cousin, Miss Ruthyn, don't you?'

'Yes,'m,' said Mary, in her genteelest way.

'Does anyone sleep in her room?'

'Yes,'m, _I_--please, my lady.'

'And no one else?'

'No,'m--please, my lady.'

'Not even the _governess_, sometimes?

'No, please, my lady.'