"A conviction seized me that the old bureau must have belonged to this room, and I soon found the place where I judged it must have stood. But the same moment I caught sight of a portrait on the wall above the spot I had fixed upon. 'By Jove!' I cried, involuntarily, 'that's the very old lady I met in Russell Square!'
"'Nonsense!' said James. 'Old-fashioned ladies are like babies--they all look the same. That's a very old portrait.'
"'So I see,' I answered. 'It is like a Zucchero.'
"'I don't know whose it is," he answered hurriedly, and I thought he looked a little queer.
"'They say so; but who or what she was, I don't know. You must ask Letty," he answered.
"'The more I look at it,' I said, 'the more I am convinced it is the same old lady.'
"'Well,' he returned with a laugh, 'my old nurse used to say she was rather restless. But it's all nonsense.'
"'That bureau in my room looks about the same date as this furniture,' I remarked.
"'It used to stand just there,' he answered, pointing to the space under the picture. 'Well I remember with what awe we used to regard it; for they said the old lady kept her accounts at it still. We never dared touch the bundles of yellow papers in the pigeon-holes. I remember thinking Letty a very heroine once when she touched one of them with the tip of her forefinger. She had got yet more courageous by the time she had it moved into her own room.'
"'Then that is your sister's room I am occupying?' I said.
"'I am ashamed of keeping her out of it.'
"'If I were she though,' I added, 'I would send that bureau back to its own place.'
"'What do you mean, Heywood? Do you believe every old wife's tale that ever was told?'
"'She may get a fright some day--that's all!' I replied.
"He smiled with such an evident mixture of pity and contempt that for the moment I almost disliked him; and feeling certain that Laetitia would receive any such hint in a somewhat similar manner, I did not feel inclined to offer her any advice with regard to the bureau.
"Little occurred during the rest of my visit worthy of remark. Somehow or other I did not make much progress with Laetitia. I believe I had begun to see into her character a little, and therefore did not get deeper in love as the days went on. I know I became less absorbed in her society, although I was still anxious to make myself agreeable to her--or perhaps, more properly, to give her a favourable impression of me. I do not know whether she perceived any difference in my behaviour, but I remember that I began again to remark the pinched look of her nose, and to be a little annoyed with her for always putting aside my book. At the same time, I daresay I was provoking, for I never was given to tidiness myself.