There was a tone of kindness lurking beneath her words, so that Amy regretted she had spoken so hastily, and felt half inclined to tell her so, when Goody Grey again spoke.
"Who is that tall, dark, fine-looking man; a Linchmore in his walk, and perhaps his manner and proud bearing, but there the resemblance ceases; the expression of the face is different, the eye has no cunning in it, but looks at you steadily, without fear? He is brave and noble-looking. Who is he?"
"I think you must mean Mr. Vavasour," replied Amy.
"Vavasour," repeated Goody Grey, thoughtfully, "the name is strange to me, yet--stay--a dim recollection floats across my brain that I have heard the name before; but my memory fails me sadly at times, and my thoughts grow confused as I strive to catch the thread of some long-forgotten, long-buried vision of the past. Well, perhaps it is best so. Life is but a span, and I am weary of it--very weary."
"We are all at times desponding," said Amy; "even I feel so sometimes at the Hall, and there you know the house is filled with visitors, and is one continued round of gaiety."
"Yes," said Goody Grey, as if speaking to herself. "Amidst the gayest scenes the heart is often the saddest. But," continued she, addressing Amy, "your sweet face looks as though no harsh wind had ever blown across it; may it be long before a cold word or look mars its sunshine. But there is a young girl at the Hall; one amongst the many visiting there who has a proud look that will work her no good. I have warned her, for I can trace her destiny clearly. But she has a spirit; a revengeful spirit, that will never bend till it breaks. She scorned my warning and thought me mad; yet evil will overtake her, and that, too, when least she expects it. Have nothing to do with her. Avoid her. Trust her not. And now go you away, and let the events of this morning be buried in your heart. I would not that all should know Goody Grey, as you know her; think of the old woman with pity; not with doubt and suspicion."
"I will. I do think of you with pity," replied Amy. "How can I do otherwise when I have seen the anguish of your heart."
"Hush! recall not thoughts that have passed almost as quickly as they came. And now farewell, I am tired and would be alone."