her importance in the sphere in which she has always
moved; for she is greatly respected in the neighbouring village, and
among the farmers' wives, and has high authority in the household,
ruling over the servants with quiet, but undisputed sway.

She is a thin old lady, with blue eyes and pointed nose and chin. Her
dress is always the same as to fashion. She wears a small,
well-starched ruff, a laced stomacher, full petticoats, and a gown
festooned and open in front, which, on particular occasions, is of
ancient silk, the legacy of some former dame of the family, or an
inheritance from her mother, who was housekeeper before her. I have a
reverence for these old garments, as I make no doubt they have figured
about these apartments in days long past, when they have set off the
charms of some peerless family beauty; and I have sometimes looked
from the old housekeeper to the neighbouring portraits, to see whether
I could not recognize her antiquated brocade in the dress of some one
of those long-waisted dames that smile on me from the walls.

Her hair, which is quite white, is frizzed out in front, and she wears
over it a small cap, nicely plaited, and brought down under the chin.
Her manners are simple and primitive, heightened a little by a proper
dignity of station.

The Hall is her world, and the history of the family the only history
she knows, excepting that which she has read in the Bible. She can
give a biography of every portrait in the picture gallery, and is a
complete family chronicle.

She is treated with great consideration by the Squire. Indeed, Master
Simon tells me that there is a traditional anecdote current among the
servants, of the Squire's having been seen kissing her in the picture
gallery, when they were both young. As, however, nothing further was
ever noticed between them, the circumstance caused no great scandal;
only she was observed to take to reading Pamela shortly afterwards,
and refused the hand of the village inn-keeper, whom she had
previously smiled on.

The old butler, who was formerly footman, and a rejected admirer of
hers, used to tell the anecdote now and then, at those little cabals
that will occasionally take place among the most orderly servants,
arising from the common propensity of the governed to talk against
administration; but he has left it off, of late years, since he has
risen into place, and shakes his head rebukingly when it is mentioned.

It is certain that the