Now all this was very courteous and kind of Mr. Woodward, and might have raised her spirits were it not for the eye. From the moment he entered the apartment that dreaded instrument of his power was fixed upon her with a look so concentrated, piercing, and intense, that it gave a character of abstraction to all he said. In other words, she felt as if his language proceeded out of his lips unconsciously, and that some mysterious purport of his heart emanated from his eye. It appeared to her that he was thinking of something secret connected with herself, to which his words bore no reference whatsoever. She neither knew what to do nor what to say under this terrible and permeating gaze; it was in vain she turned away her eyes; she knew--she felt--that his was upon her--that it was drinking up her strength--that, in fact, the evil influence was; mingling with and debilitating her frame, and operating upon all her faculties. There was still, however, a worse symptom, and one which gave that gaze a significance that appalled her--this was the smile of triumph which she had seen playing coldly but triumphantly about his lips in her dreams. That smile was the feather to the arrow that pierced her, and that was piercing her at that moment--it was the cold but glittering glance of the rattlesnake, when breaking down by the poison of his eyes the power of resistance in his devoted victim. “Mr. Woodward,” said she, after a long pause, “I am unable to bear an interview--have the goodness to withdraw, and when you go down-stairs send my mother up. Excuse me, sir; but you must perceive how very ill I have got within a few minutes.” “I regret it exceedingly, Miss Goodwin. I had something to mention to you respecting that unfortunate brother of mine; but you are not now in a condition to hear anything unpleasant and distressing; and, indeed, it is better, I think, now that I observe your state of health, that you should not even wish to hear it.” “I never do wish to hear it, sir; but have the goodness to leave me.” “I trust my next visit will find you better. Good-by, Miss Goodwin! I shall send your mother up.” [Illustration: PAGE 697-- One long, dark, inexplicable gaze] He withdrew very much after the etiquette of a subject leaving a crowned head--that is, nearly backwards; but when he came to the door he paused a moment, turning upon her one long, dark, inexplicable gaze, whilst the muscles of his hard, stony mouth were drawn back with a smile that contained in its expression a spirit that might be considered complacent, but which Alice interpreted as derisive and diabolical. “Mamma,” said she, when her mother joined her, “I am ill, and I know not what to do.” “I know you are not well, my love,” replied her mother, “but I hope you're not worse; how do you feel?” “Quite feeble, utterly without strength, and dreadfully depressed and alarmed.” “Alarmed, Alley! Why, what could alarm you? Does not Mr. Woodward always conduct himself as a gentleman?”