ned 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 recognise her
antiquated brocade in the dress of some one of those long-waisted dames
that smile on me from the walls.

[Illustration: The Old Housekeeper]

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 innkeeper, 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 old lady will, to this day, dwell on the looks of
the squire when he was a young man at college; and she maintains that
none of his sons can compare with their father when he was of their age,
and was dressed out in his full suit of scarlet, with his hair craped
and powdered, and his three-cornered hat.

She has an orphan niece, a pretty, soft-hearted baggage, named Phoebe
Wilkins, who has been transplanted t