all the deference due to her by the right of primogeniture.

"Come in, Charlotte."

"How did you know it was I?"

"I know your knock, however you vary it. Nobody knocks like you. I
suppose no two people would make three taps just the same." She was far
too polite to yawn; but she made as much of the movement as she could
not control, and then put a mark in her book, and laid it down. A very
different girl, indeed, was she from her younger sister; a stranger
would never have suspected her of the same parentage.

She had dark, fine eyes, which, however, did not express what she felt:
they rather gave the idea of storing up impressions to be re-acted upon
by some interior power. She had a delicate complexion, a great deal of
soft, black hair compactly dressed, and a neat figure. Her disposition
was dreamy and self-willed; occult studies fascinated her, and she was
passionately fond of moonlight. She was simply dressed in a white muslin
frock, with a black ribbon around her slim waist; but the ribbon was
clasped by a buckle of heavily chased gold, and her fingers had many
rings on them, and looked--a very rare circumstance--the better for
them. Having put down her book, she rose from her chair; and as she
dipped the tips of her hands in water, and wiped them with elaborate
nicety, she talked to Charlotte in a soft, deliberate way.

"Where have you been, you and father, ever since daybreak?"

"Up to Blaeberry Tarn, and then home by Holler Beck. We caught a creel
full of trout, and had a very happy day."