Such was the sanctity of this spot, that in showing the house to strangers it was never opened, nor, without a special order from Lady Dorothea,--a favor somewhat more difficult to obtain than a firman from the Sultan,--could any one be admitted within its walls. The trusty servant in whose charge it was, was actually invested with a species of sacred character in the household, as one whose feet had passed the threshold of the tabernacle. Our reader may then picture to himself something of Lady Dorothea's varied sensations--for, indeed, they were most mingled--as she heard a slight cough from within the chamber, and, drawing nearer, perceived a female figure seated in front of one of the windows, calmly regarding the landscape. With a degree of noise and bustle sufficient to announce her approach, Lady Dorothea entered the tower; while the stranger, rising, retired one step, and courtesied very deeply. There was in all the humility of the obeisance a certain degree of graceful dignity that certainly struck her Ladyship; and her haughty look and haughtier tone were some little modified as she asked by what accident she found her there. “My intrusion was a pure accident, my Lady,” replied the other, in a low, soft voice; “mistaking the door by which I had entered a room, I wandered on through one after another until I found myself here. I beg your Ladyship to believe that nothing was further from my thoughts than to obtrude upon your privacy.” “Your name?” began her Ladyship; and then, as suddenly correcting herself, she said, “You are Miss Henderson, I suppose?” “Yes, my Lady,” she replied, with a slight bend of the head. “I sent for you,” said Lady Dorothea, in a half-careless tone, while she turned over some books on the table, as if in search of something,--“I sent for you, partly at the request of your mother--” “My stepmother, my Lady,” interposed the girl, calmly. Lady Dorothea stared at her for a second or two, as though to say, how had she dared to correct her; but either that the reproof had not met its full success, or that she did not care to pursue it, she added, “At the request of your friends, and partly out of curiosity.” And here Lady Dorothea raised her glass to her eye, and quietly surveyed her,--an examination which, it must be owned, none could have borne with more unshaken fortitude; not the slightest tremor of a limb, not the faintest change of color betokening that the ordeal was a painful one. “I do see that you have been educated in France,” said her Ladyship, with a smile of most supercilious import, while a courtesy from the young girl admitted the fact. “Were you brought up in Paris?” asked she, after a pause. “For four years, my Lady.” “And the remainder of the time, where was it passed?” “We travelled a great deal, my Lady, in Germany and Italy.” “'We,'--who were the 'we' you speak of? Please to bear in mind that I know nothing of your history.”