ooks of which
I have been told. You have not heard that the person calling himself
Rajah of Bisnagar has been here since my illness, have you?'

'No, my lady; I am sure he has not been here.'

Lady Maulevrier gave him a scrutinising look.

'He might have come, and my people might have kept the knowledge from
me, out of consideration for my infirmity,' she said. 'I should be very
angry if it were so. I should hate to be treated like a child.'

'You shall not be so treated, my lady, while I am in this house; but I
know there is no member of the household who would presume so to treat
you.'

'They might do it out of kindness; but I should loathe such kindness,'
said Lady Maulevrier, impatiently. 'Though I have been smitten down,
though I lie here like a log, I have a mind to think and to plan; and I
am not afraid to meet danger, face to face. Are you telling me the
truth, Steadman? Have there been no visits concealed from me, no letters
kept from me since I have been ill?'

'I am telling you nothing but the truth, my lady. No letter has been
kept from you; no visitor has been to this house whose coming you have
not been told of.'

'Then I am content,' said her ladyship, with a sigh of relief.

After this there followed some conversation upon business matters. James
Steadman was trusted with the entire management of the dowager's income,
the investment of her savings. His honesty was above all suspicion. He
was a man of simple habits, his wants few. He had saved money in every
year of his service; and for a man of his station was rich enough to be
unassailable by the tempter.

He had reconciled his mind to the monotonous course of life at Fellside
in the beginning of things; and, as the years glided smoothly by, his
character and wants and inclinations had, as it were, moulded themselves
to fit that life. He had easy duties, a comfortable home, supreme
authority in the household. He was looked up to and made much of in the
village whenever he condescended to appear there; and by the rareness of
his visits to the Inn or the Reading-room, and his unwillingness to
accept hospitality from the tradesmen of Grasmere and Ambleside, he
maintained his dignity and exaggerated his importance. He had his books
and his newspapers, his evening leisure, which no one ever dared to
disturb. He had the old wing of the house for his exclusive occupation;
and no one ventured to intrude upon him in his privacy. There was a bell
in th