manner; that I rather inclined towards her.
‘Miss Mowcher!’ said I, after glancing up and down the empty
street, without distinctly knowing what I expected to see besides;
‘how do you come here? What is the matter?’ She motioned to me
with her short right arm, to shut the umbrella for her; and passing
me hurriedly, went into the kitchen. When I had closed the door,
and followed, with the umbrella in my hand, I found her sitting on
the corner of the fender―it was a low iron one, with two flat bars
at top to stand plates upon―in the shadow of the boiler, swaying
herself backwards and forwards, and chafing her hands upon her
knees like a person in pain.
Quite alarmed at being the only recipient of this untimely visit,
and the only spectator of this portentous behaviour, I exclaimed
again, ‘Pray tell me, Miss Mowcher, what is the matter! are you
ill?’
‘My dear young soul,’ returned Miss Mowcher, squeezing her
hands upon her heart one over the other. ‘I am ill here, I am very
ill. To think that it should come to this, when I might have known
it and perhaps prevented it, if I hadn’t been a thoughtless fool!’
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