"As old as Æsop!" remarked her uncle; and there the conversation on that head dropped. Soon after, the dinner came to an end, and the whole party returned to the drawing-room. Mr. Fleming asked Emily to sing, and seemed delighted with the sound of her voice. General Tracy sat beside Rose and teazed her; but not about the gardener any more. And Rose, after having been very thoughtful for some time, suddenly resumed all her good spirits, sung with her sister, laughed with her uncle, played a game at chess with her father, and was beat with perfect good humour. But on the following morning when General Tracy asked her, before breakfast, to go down with him to the cottage to see the gipsey boy, she at first made some objection. They were alone. "My dear Rose," said her uncle, "this is nonsense. You do not suppose for one moment, that though I might joke you on that silly woman's prophecy, I could think it would have the least effect upon your mind." "Oh dear, no!" answered Rose, "I am not so foolish as that, dear uncle; and if it will give you any pleasure, I will go. But the gardener has nothing to do with it," she added with a gay smile; "for I happen to know he is not there, and does not take possession for some days. My maid told me so this morning, without my asking any questions; so your wicked smile has no point:" and away they went to the cottage. CHAPTER X. A fine, tall, broad-fronted house, massy in architecture, and placed upon a commanding height, in a beautiful park, had all the window-shutters closed along the principal façade, though a number of people going in and coming out showed that it was not empty. There was no attempt at decoration to be seen in the building. All was plain, solid, and severe. Some dark pines on either hand harmonized with the sternness of the mansion; and the brown oaks and beeches behind carried off the lines to the wavy hills above. Everything was neat and in good order around; the trees carefully confined to their exact proportions near the house, the lawns close mowed, the gravel walks free from the least intrusive weed. The gardens, with their long lines of green and hot houses, showed care and expense; and from a distance one would have supposed that the whole open ground of the park had been lately subject to the scythe, so smooth and trim did everything look. Within was death. In the state drawing-room, with crimson curtains sweeping down, and panelling of white and gold, upon a rich Axminster carpet, and surrounded by furniture of the most gorgeous kind, stood the dull trestles, bearing the moral of all--the coffin and the pall: splendour and ostentation and luxury without; death and foulness and corruption within. It was a still homily.