of hysterical nervousness, or else so pale and exhausted
by her own violence, that it was some time before she could be
restored to anything like calmness or good-humour. I can truly
say that I made every possible effort to gain the affection of
my little cousin, and I was seldom betrayed into any irritable
expression, or sign of impatience, much as I was daily and
hourly tried.

Once or twice I had observed an expression of displeasure in
Mrs. Middleton's countenance, on overhearing Julia's screams,
on some of the occasions alluded to; and I had sometimes
noticed a sudden cloud pass over her brow, and an abrupt
change in her manner, at the moments when she was on the point
of giving utterance to those expressions of tenderness which
she was wont to bestow upon me: but that tenderness was so
evident; it had been spoken in words; it had been proved by
deeds; I had read it in every look of her eyes; I had traced
it in every tone of her voice, during so many years, that I
should as soon have doubted that the rays of the sun cheered
and warmed me, as that my aunt loved me.

I am now come to an epoch of my life, the events of which, in
their minutest details, are engraved on my memory as if a
burning iron had stamped them on my brain. I will not
anticipate, but, with unflinching resolution, record every
particular of the day which changed me from a happy child into
a miserable woman.

Some description of Elmsley Priory is requisite to the
understanding of my story, and I will endeavour to make it
short and clear.

The house itself, formerly a monastery, was built on the brow
of a steep hill; irregular in shape, it seemed to have been
added to, bit by bit, according to the increasing size of the
convent. A verandah or balcony of modern date, followed the
sinuosities of the old pile, and, from its peculiar position,
while at one extremity it was on a level with the grounds, at
the other it overhung a precipitous declivity. This bank
shelved down to the edge of a rapid stream, which chafed and
foamed along the base of the hill against which the house
stood.

At one of the ends of the verandah was a rough flight of stone
steps, much overgrown with moss, at all times difficult to
descend, and, after rain, positively dangerous, from the
slippery nature of the footing it afforded. It led to the edge
of the river down the bank already described. A longer and
more circuitous path began at the opposite extremity of the
ver