'Never, you are quite sure, my dear?' said Lady Knollys, transferring the
question to me.

'Oh, no, never,' I answered.

Cousin Monica mused gravely, I fancied even anxiously, into the grate; then
stirred her tea and sipped it, still looking into the same point of our
cheery fire.

'I like your face, Mary Quince; I'm sure you are a good creature,' she
said, suddenly turning toward her with a pleasant countenance. 'I'm very
glad you have got her, dear. I wonder whether Austin has gone to his bed
yet!'

'I think not. I am certain he is either in the library or in his private
room--papa often reads or prays alone at night, and--and he does not like
to be interrupted.'

'No, no; of course not--it will do very well in the morning.'

Lady Knollys was thinking deeply, as it seemed to me.

'And so you are afraid of goblins, my dear,' she said at last, with a faded
sort of smile, turning toward me; 'well, if _I_ were, I know what _I_
should do--so soon as I, and good Mary Quince here, had got into my
bed-chamber for the night, I should stir the fire into a good blaze, and
bolt the door--do you see, Mary Quince?--bolt the door and keep a candle
lighted all night. You'll be very attentive to her, Mary Quince, for I--I
don't think she is very strong, and she must not grow nervous: so get to