have felt quite at home with her but a mother, whose heart had been one
with hers from a season long anterior to the development of any
repulsive oddity. But her position was one of peculiar isolation, for no
one really approached her individual being; and that she should be
unaware of this loneliness, seemed to me saddest of all. I soon found,
however, that the most distant attempt on my part to show her attention,
was either received with absolute indifference, or coldly repelled
without the slightest acknowledgment.

But I return to the first night of my sojourn at Hilton Hall.




CHAPTER VI


_My Quarters._

After making arrangements for commencing work in the morning, I took my
leave, and retired to my own room, intent upon carrying out with more
minuteness the survey I had already commenced: several cupboards in the
wall, and one or two doors, apparently of closets, had especially
attracted my attention. Strange was its look as I entered--as of a room
hollowed out of the past, for a memorial of dead times. The fire had
sunk low, and lay smouldering beneath the white ashes, like the life of
the world beneath the snow, or the heart of a man beneath cold and grey
thoughts. I lighted the candles which stood upon the table, but the
room, instead of being brightened looked blacker than before, for the
light revealed its essential blackness.