Chapter 4

           ItwasnotthatIdidn’twait,onthisoccasion,formore,forIwasrootedasdeeplyasIwasshaken.Wastherea“secret”atBly—amysteryofUdolphooraninsane,anunmentionablerelativekeptinunsuspectedconfinement?Ican’tsayhowlongIturneditover,orhowlong,inaconfusionofcuriosityanddread,IremainedwhereIhadhadmycollision;IonlyrecallthatwhenIre-enteredthehousedarknesshadquiteclosedin.Agitation,intheinterval,certainlyhadheldmeanddrivenme,forImust,incirclingabouttheplace,havewalkedthreemiles;butIwastobe,lateron,somuchmoreoverwhelmedthatthismeredawnofalarmwasacomparativelyhumanchill.Themostsingularpartofit,infact—singularastheresthadbeen—wasthepartIbecame,inthehall,awareofinmeetingMrs.Grose.Thispicturecomesbacktomeinthegeneraltrain—theimpression,asIreceiveditonmyreturn,ofthewidewhitepanelledspace,brightinthelamplightandwithitsportraitsandredcarpet,andofthegoodsurprisedlookofmyfriend,whichimmediatelytoldmeshehadmissedme.Itcametomestraightway,underhercontact,that,withplainheartiness,mererelievedanxietyatmyappearance,sheknewnothingwhateverthatcouldbearupontheincidentIhadtherereadyforher.Ihadnotsuspectedinadvancethathercomfortablefacewouldpullmeup,andIsomehowmeasuredtheimportanceofwhatIhadseenbymythusfindingmyselfhesitatetomentionit.