The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 30: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE LEGEND 11 as if its loneliness and gloom struck cold to her heart. Essay- ing all she could to conquer the feeling, she hastened to seek her couch, but it was some time before sleep visited her eyes. When Honor, her principal maid, entered the room in the morning, Zoe was about to tell her what she had seen, or thought she had seen, on the previous evening, but suddenly feeling ashamed of herself, she held her peace. The topic, however, was brought about in another way, for as the maid was combing out the long, light, beautiful hair of her mistress, she said, “‘ Does your ladyship know that this old mansion has a very strange repute? ”’ ‘““ Indeed? ”’ said Zoe, and it was almost with a start that she had heard her abigail’s question. “ Yes, my lady,” continued Honor, “‘ and I and Rachel ”’ —thus alluding to Zoe’s other female servant — ‘ have been kept awake nearly the whole night thinking of what we heard for the first time before we went to bed.” ‘“Many very old buildings,” said Zoe, “‘ have strange, silly legends connected with them, and it is very foolish of you maids to terrify yourselves in this manner.”’ “T am not frightened now, my lady, that it is broad day- light,’ answered the maid, “ but at night-time, when all is dark and silent, or else when only the moon is shining, it is a very different thing. It was the gardener who was telling us last evening — he speaks a little English, for he was with an English family for two years at Lyons some while ago — ”’ “And what did this narrator of marvels tell you?” in- quired Lady Octavian Meredith, kindly endeavouring by an assumed gaiety of manner to dispel whatsoever remnant of superstitious fear might be lingering in the mind of her maid. “TI will tell your ladyship,” responded Honor. “ It was never before last evening that he touched upon the subject, because I think he dares not in old dame Marguerite’s presence, but she had gone to bed early through indisposition, and so the gardener got talkative.” “And what was it that he said?’”’ again inquired Zoe, affecting a tone of indifference, though she in reality ex- perienced a degree of interest in the expected narrative for which she felt almost ashamed of herself. “It seems, my lady,’’ resumed the maid, “‘ that when the first Revolution broke out, the noble family to which the CoOnnicloookKks (C(O)