“My dear friend! I cannot hear you talk like that! I must prescribe a tonic to strengthen your nerves! You are run down, that is all. I am afraid that you work too much and worry too much. Do you know, Ricardo, that these constant séances are very debilitating for you, and though she might have conveyed the intelligence in milder language, Hannah is quite right in saying, that you must not indulge your fancy so frequently. “I was speaking to her of the danger of it, the other day, and I daresay she was only repeating my sentiments on the subject to you. If she failed to express them rightly, you must remember that she has not been reared in a polite school, and make allowances for her!” “It is not that!” replied the Professor, shaking his head; “Hannah is not the same woman she used to be--she is altered in every way! Do you remember the first time we saw her at Mrs. Battleby’s?--how shy and awkward she was--how terrified at the effect of her own power--what an unmeaning, but amiable smile, irradiated her dull vacuous countenance? “Where has all that gone? She is still somewhat clumsy and coarse, but her temper is hasty and uncertain--she has developed the cunning of the Devil--and she will have her own way in everything! It is of no use my trying to guide, or advise her. She considers she is quite capable of doing all that for herself.” “Well! you could hardly expect her to remain for ever, the dull clod you rightly say she was, when you first fell in with her! She had had no advantages then, nor opportunities of improving herself! Now--she has lived for more than twelve months in your daily presence, and must have been dull indeed, if she had not picked up something of your ways and manners!” “But she need not _insult_ me!” cried Ricardo, vehemently, “I tell you, Karl, there is hardly a day goes by, but she stings my pride with some covert allusion to the Past! What does she know of it? Have you ever spoken to her of Leonora?” “_Never!_ beyond her name!” replied the Baron, decidedly, “what you related to me of her life and death, I have kept sacredly to myself!” “Yes! yes! I am sure of it! I should not have put the question to you,” said Ricardo, feebly, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead; “but, O! Von Steinberg, I am utterly miserable! I cannot bear my life much longer! The sooner it is ended, the better!” Whatever thoughts had run riot through the Baron’s brain as he set out for the Cottage, were all merged now in the desire to redress the wrongs of his old friend, and bring Hannah to her senses. He parted with Ricardo affectionately--told him that he should speak to his wife on the subject--and extracted a promise from him, that he would come the following day and dine quietly with him in Portland Place. And then he hurried on to the Cottage, determined to give Hannah such a roasting as she had never received from him in her life before.