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II. Mistress Mary QuIte Contrary

           Shefrownedbecausesherememberedthatherfatherandmotherhadnevertalkedtoheraboutanythinginparticular.Certainlytheyhadnevertoldherthings.

           “Humph,”mutteredMrs.Medlock,staringatherqueer,unresponsivelittleface.Shedidnotsayanymoreforafewmomentsandthenshebeganagain.

           “Isupposeyoumightaswellbetoldsomething—toprepareyou.Youaregoingtoaqueerplace.”

           Marysaidnothingatall,andMrs.Medlocklookedratherdiscomfitedbyherapparentindifference,but,aftertakingabreath,shewenton.

           “Notbutthatit’sagrandbigplaceinagloomyway,andMr.Craven’sproudofitinhisway—andthat’sgloomyenough,too.Thehouseissixhundredyearsoldandit’sontheedgeofthemoor,andthere’snearahundredroomsinit,thoughmostofthem’sshutupandlocked.Andthere’spicturesandfineoldfurnitureandthingsthat’sbeenthereforages,andthere’sabigparkrounditandgardensandtreeswithbranchestrailingtotheground—someofthem.”Shepausedandtookanotherbreath.“Butthere’snothingelse,”sheendedsuddenly.

           Maryhadbeguntolisteninspiteofherself.ItallsoundedsounlikeIndia,andanythingnewratherattractedher.Butshedidnotintendtolookasifshewereinterested.Thatwasoneofherunhappy,disagreeableways.Soshesatstill.

           “Well,”saidMrs.Medlock.“Whatdoyouthinkofit?”

           “Nothing,”sheanswered.“Iknownothingaboutsuchplaces.”

           ThatmadeMrs.Medlocklaughashortsortoflaugh.

           “Eh!”shesaid,“butyouarelikeanoldwoman.

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