mist-hidden marsh, a shiver passed over me; and I drew in my head with
a sudden change of thought.

“How cold it is! Mr. and Mrs. Rayner must be devoted admirers of the
picturesque to live in a house that must be so very damp!”

CHAPTER II.

I was down in the dining-room the next morning, with the unfailing
punctuality of a new-comer, at the sound of the breakfast-bell, before
any one else was there. Mr. Rayner came in in a few minutes, handsome,
cheerful, but rather preoccupied; and I was listening to his bright
small-talk with the polite stranger’s smile, when I discovered,
without having heard any sound, that Mrs. Rayner was in the room. She
had glided in like a ghost, and, without more interest in the life
around her than a ghost might show, she was standing at the table,
waiting. I was thankful to see that there was no trace in her eyes now
of the steadfast eager gaze which had disconcerted me on the night
before, nothing but the limpest indifference to me in the way in which
she held out her hand when her husband introduced me.

“She must have been pretty ten years ago,” I thought, as I looked at
her thin face, with the fair faded complexion and dull gray eyes.
There was a gentleness about her which would have been grace still, if
she had taken any pains to set off by a little womanly coquetry her
slim girl-like figure, small thin hands, and the masses of long brown
hair which were carelessly and unbecomingly dragged away from her
forehead and twisted up on her head.

Then the door opened, and the servants came in to prayers, with the
elfish baby and a pretty delicate-looking child, blue-eyed and
fair-haired, who was presented to me before breakfast as Haidee, my
pupil.

Nobody talked during the meal but Mr. Rayner, and the only other
noticeable thing was the improper behavior of the baby, who kept
throwing bits of bread at her father when he was not looking, and
aimed a blow with a spoon at him when he passed her chair to cut
himself some cold meat. He saw it and laughed at her.

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