CHAPTER V. ADA MILLWOOD.

SHE stood there a moment. Wonderful wavy
hair, of nearly the shade of gold, which ran and
rippled in countless tiny hills and valleys, and
gave a rich look of detail and garnish; below,
a soft transparent skin, with the dreamiest eyes,
a small mouth with pale lips, and an almost
heart-shaped face. At this was Mr. Tillotson
looking over from his chair with a strange
attraction. There was nothing marked, but every
feature was kept in privacy and retirement, and
over all floated a sort of tranquil light—a golden
halo, as it were, that might have come from
the very reflexion of that yellow hair.

The solicitors half rose in obedience to the
spell. Though the dresses of the mamma and
the two sisters ran a sort of rustle of impatience,
which, to say the truth, was almost instinctive,
she glided over to Ross, and, laying her hand on
his arm, said, in a low whisper which every one
heard:

"Do, do be advised, dear William. Listen
to your friends, and to those who know your
interests best. Do, oh do!" And she looked
up into his face with a calm devotional
entreaty.

He set himself free impatiently. " So you
come with the rest! One of the wise women
that know law, I suppose, and know the world
as well as any of these professionals. Go away.
Go up to your sewing again."

"Before it is too late," she went on.
"Think of it, William. Ah!" she added, in
the same half whisper, " what is this? You
are hurt."

(The lawyers, set free now from the spell of
that sudden entry, had begun to talk again. So
what she said was unheard, except by Mr. Tillotson.)

"How did you get this?" he heard her say,
a little impatiently. " Ah! You have been in
some quarrel. I know it, indeed. This old
unhappy taste. Will you never have done
with it '?"

"No questioning, please," he answered.
"As you must know, suppose it was a razor—a
blunt infernal thing? And I tell you what;"
his eyes began to flame and shoot sparks
over to Mr. Tillotson, and his breathing to grow
hard; " I'll have a satisfaction in finding out
the fellow that did it! It'll be the worst job
for him in his trade this many a day."

Her eyes quickly followed the savage direction
of his. A sort of light seemed to fill her
face as she saw Mr. Tillotson. Mr. Tilney, who
had been hovering about uneasily, seized the
opening eagerly, to divert his guest from their
domestic concerns.

"Mr. Tillotson, my dear—gentleman from
town, stopping at the White Hart. Most
unfortunate, this. The Dook used to talk about
washing our fine linen in private, and upon my
soul I believe it is always the best course."

"I am sorry to have come in at such a
moment," said Mr. Tillotson to her; "and,
indeed, I wished to go away long since.
Perhaps I had better go even now."

She answered him with a kindly eagerness.

"No, no," she said; " stay. It is a curious
welcome for you, after all. You will know our
little troubles soon enough. Even now;"
her placid eyes looked round with a little
caution, and then dropped on the ground as she
spoke, but Ross was again speaking low to the
lawyers; " even now, you, who have been here
but one hour, have learned some of our wretched
ways—ways that no teaching, no experience,
will mend."

Mr. Tillotson's pale face began to colour.
"How?" he said.

"Ah! you understand, I see. A razor
indeed! I can admire your restraint and calmness,
but such lessons are only thrown away on
some!"

She said this with a melancholy that made
her, to his eyes, more like a saint than any of
the famous pictures and images by divine and
devout men, that he had seen as he travelled. In
that private interview—for it was private, with
the storm of voices raging about them—there
seemed to have been much spoken, though not
in words; the golden threads of sympathy had
been joined between them.

"Do you stay here long?" she went on,
hastily, and turning to look out of the window.
"Then they must show you the cathedral. Look
at it, opposite. Oh, if you do, make me a
promise! I am ashamed to speak so, after only a
few seconds of acquaintance, but you will forgive
and excuse me. I know what all this means—
what has taken place between you and him. Do
not mind him. He has been brought up strangely.
We all give way to him. We all humour him.
He is worried and harassed and troubled. Will
you promise me?"

Her face fell into such a sweet, soft, imploring
expression of devotion, that no one could
have resisted. But Mr. Tillotson only answered:
"I quarrel! Indeed, no! Ah, you do not
know. Certainly, I promise. Did you know
what my life has been, you would indeed say
that you might trust me."

Again the solicitor came back to his point,
but on a soft and persuasive " tack." " Surely,
Mr. Ross, a sensible long-headed man of the
world like you, will listen to reason. What
can you have to go upon? Surely, we ought to
know your interests; they are ours, are they
not? We are in the same boat, are we not?"

"Same boat! Speak for yourself, sir, and
row for yourself! I know what I am at," said
Ross. " I can see through a stone wall, where
another man couldn't find room to put a stone.
I've made my plans."

"He is thinking of that ridiculous wild-goose
chase on which that Grainger set off," said Mrs.
Tilney, flouncing and tossing. " Hunting up a
witness! It is mere childish folly—a ridiculous
will-o'-the-wisp."

"And you know much about it?" said Ross;
"stick to your ribbons and laces, ma'am. You're
a fine hand at advice. As for Grainger, he has a
longer head than all your six-and-eightpennies
put together."