"Please, sir, there's a lady here," said the little slavey. Katherine,
who was as frightened as if she were face to face with a lunatic, had a
terrible conviction that this appalling old man was her uncle. How
should she ever address him? What an unfortunate time to have fallen
upon!

"What do you want?" asked the old man, fiercely, frowning till his
shaggy white eyebrows almost met over his angry black eyes.

"I want to see Mr. John Wilmot Liddell."

"Then you see him! Who are you?"

"Katherine Liddell, your niece."

"My niece!" with inexpressible contempt and disbelief, "Well, niece or
not, you may serve a turn. Can you read?"

"Yes, of course."

"Come, then--come in." He turned and walked with some difficulty to the
door of the front parlor. Half bewildered, Katherine followed
mechanically, and the small servant shut the front door, putting up the
chain with a good deal of noise.

The room to which Katherine was so unceremoniously introduced was of
good size, covered with a carpet of which no pattern and very little
color were left. The furniture was old-fashioned and solid; a
dining-table covered with faded green baize was in the middle, and a
writing-table with several drawers was placed near the fireplace, beside