A perfect stranger to the interior of the house (seeing that my experience began and ended with the Minister’s bedchamber), I descended¹ the stairs, in the character of a guest in search of domestic information.

On my way down, I heard the door of a room on the ground floor opened, and a woman’ s voice below, speaking in a hurry: “My dear, I have not a moment to spare; my patients are waiting for me.” This was followed by a confidential² communication, judging by the tone. “Mind! not a word about me to that old gentleman!” Her patients were waiting for her—had I discovered a female doctor? And there was some old gentleman whom she was not willing to trust—surely I was not that much-injured man?

Reaching the hall just as the lady said her last words, I caught a glimpse of her face, and discovered the middle-aged³ stranger who had called on “Miss Jillgall,” and had promised to repeat her visit. A second lady was at the door, with her back to me, taking leave of her friend. Having said good-by, she turned round—and we confronted each other.

I found her to be a little person, wiry and active; past the prime of life, and ugly enough to encourage prejudice, in persons who take a superficial view of their fellow-creatures. Looking impartially⁴ at the little sunken eyes which rested on me with a comical expression of embarrassment⁵, I saw signs that said: There is some good here, under a disagreeable surface, if you can only find it.

She saluted⁶ me with a carefully-performed curtsey, and threw open the door of a room on the ground floor.

“Pray walk in, sir, and permit me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Gracedieu’s cousin—Miss Jillgall. Proud indeed to make the acquaintance of a gentleman distinguished⁷ in the service of his country—or perhaps I ought to say, in the service of the Law. The Governor offers hospitality to prisoners. And who introduces prisoners to board and

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