ok and gesture. "I must speak to the vicar. I must see
Furnival. It can't be permitted," he cried.

"Do you think I shall not be kind to her, doctor?" cried Mrs. Turner.
"Oh, ask her! she is one that understands. She knows far better than
that. We're not fine people, doctor, but we're kind people. I can say
that for myself. There is nobody in this house but will be good to her,
and admire her, and take an example by her. To have a real lady with the
girls, that is what I would give anything for; and as she wants taking
care of, poor dear, and petting, and an 'ome--" Mary, who would not hear
any more, got up hastily, and took the hand of her new protectress, and
kissed her, partly out of gratitude and kindness, partly to stop her
mouth, and prevent the saying of something which it might have been still
more difficult to support. "You are a real lady yourself, dear Mrs.
Turner," she cried. (And this notwithstanding the one deficient letter:
but many people who are much more dignified than Mrs. Turner--people who
behave themselves very well in every other respect--say "'ome.")

"Oh, my dear, I don't make any pretensions," the good woman cried, but
with a little shock of pleasure which brought the tears to her eyes.

And then the story was told. Connie had seen the lady walk up-stairs, and
had thought no harm. The child supposed it was some one belonging to the
house. She had gone into the room which was now Connie's room; but as
that had a second door, there was no suspicion caused by the fact that
she was not found there a little time after, when the child told her
mother what she had seen. After this, Connie had seen the same lady
several times, and once had met her face to face. The child declared that
she was not at all afraid. She was a pretty old lady, with white hair and
dark eyes. She looked a little sad, but smiled when Connie stopped and
stared at her,--not angry at all, but rather pleased,--and looked for a
moment as if she would speak. That was all. Not a word about a ghost was
said in Connie's hearing. She had already told it all to the doctor, and
he had pretended to consider which of the old ladies in the neighborhood
this could be. In Mary's mind, occupied as it was by so many important
matters, there had been up to this time no great question about Connie's
apparition; now she began to listen closely, not so much from real
interest as from a perception that the doctor, who was her friend, did
not want her