ocked off (that is to say, the
key was left in the lock outside), was not given up for our use, as it
was crowded with musty old furniture, packed closely together, and all
of a fashion many, many years older than that of the contents of the
rest of the house. I remember some of the pieces of furniture still,
though I think I was only once or twice in the room all the time we were
there. There were two or three old-fashioned cabinets or bureaux; there
was a regular four-post bedstead, with the gloomy curtains still hanging
round it; and ever so many spider-legged chairs and rickety tables; and
I rather think in one corner there was a spinet. But there was nothing
particularly curious or attractive, and we never thought of meddling
with the things or 'poking about,' as girls sometimes do; for we always
thought it was by mistake that this room had not been locked off
altogether, so that no one should meddle with anything in it.

"We had rented the house for six months from a Captain Marchmont, a
half-pay officer, naval or military, I don't know which, for we never
saw him, and all the negotiations were managed by an agent. Captain
Marchmont and his family, as a rule, lived at Ballyreina all the year
round--they found it cheap and healthy, I suppose--but this year they
had preferred to pass the winter in some livelier neighbourhood, and
they were very glad to let the house. It never occurred to us to doubt
our landlord's being the owner of it: it was not till some time after we
left that we learned that he himself was only a tenant, though a tenant
of long standing. There were no people about to make friends with, or to
hear local gossip from. There were no gentry within visiting distance,
and if there had been, we should hardly have cared to make friends for
so short a time as we were to be there. The people of the village were
mostly fishermen and their families; there were so many of them, we
never got to know any specially. The doctor and the priest and the
Protestant clergyman were all newcomers, and all three very uninteresting.
The clergyman used to dine with us sometimes, as my brother had had some
sort of introduction to him when we came to Ballyreina; but we never
heard anything about the place from him. He was a great talker, too;
I am sure he would have told us anything he knew. In short, there was
nothing romantic or suggestive either about our house or the village.
But we didn't care. You see we had gone there