no little girls in that house. Assuredly there was small favour for
children in it. In some houses the child is as a stranger; in others he
rules: neither such house is in the kingdom of heaven. I must have looked
a forlorn creature as I sat, or perched rather, on the old horsehair-sofa
in that dingy room. Nobody said more than a word or so to me. I wondered
what was going to be done with me, but I had long been able to wait for
what would come. At length, after, as it seemed, hours of weary waiting,
during which my heart grew sick with longing after my uncle, I was,
without a word of explanation, led through long passages into a room
which appeared enormous. There I was again left a long while--this time
alone. It was all white and gold, and had its walls nearly covered with
great mirrors from floor to ceiling, which, while it was indeed of great
size, was the cause of its looking so immeasurably large. But it was some
time before I discovered this, for I was not accustomed to mirrors.
Except the small one on my little dressing-table, and one still less on
Martha's, I had scarcely seen a mirror, and was not prepared for those
sheets of glass in narrow gold frames.

I went about, looking at one thing and another, but handling nothing: my
late secret had cured me of that. Weary at last, I dropped upon a low
chair, and would probably have soon fallen asleep, had not the door
opened, and some one come in. I could not see the door without turning,
and was too tired and sleepy to move. I sat still, staring, hardly
conscious, into the mirror in front of me. All at once I descried in it
my uncle--but only to see him grow white as death, and turn away, reeling
as if he would fall. The sight so bewildered me that, instead of rushing
to embrace him, I sat frozen. He clapped his hands to his eyes, steadied
himself, stood for a moment rigid, then came straight toward me. But, to
my added astonishment, he gave me no greeting, or showed any sign of joy
at having found me. Never before had he seen me for the first time any