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fine…framed； scandal…loving woman； with a peculiar corner to her eye
by which； without turning her head； she could see what people were
doing almost behind her； lived in a cottage standing nearer to the
old manor…house than any other in the village of Carriford； and she
had on that account been temporarily engaged by the steward； as a
respectable kind of charwoman and general servant； until a settled
arrangement could be made with some person as permanent domestic。
Every morning； therefore； Mrs。 Crickett； immediately she had lighted
the fire in her own cottage； and prepared the breakfast for herself
and husband； paced her way to the Old House to do the same for Mr。
Manston。 Then she went home to breakfast； and when the steward had
eaten his； and had gone out on his rounds； she returned again to
clear away； make his bed； and put the house in order for the day。
On the morning of Owen Graye's departure； she went through the
operations of her first visit as usualproceeded home to breakfast；
and went back again； to perform those of the second。
Entering Manston's empty bedroom； with her hands on her hips； she
indifferently cast her eyes upon the bed； previously to dismantling
it。
Whilst she looked； she thought in an inattentive manner； 'What a
remarkably quiet sleeper Mr。 Manston must be！' The upper bed…
clothes were flung back； certainly； but the bed was scarcely
disarranged。 'Anybody would almost fancy；' she thought； 'that he
had made it himself after rising。'
But these evanescent thoughts vanished as they had come； and Mrs。
Crickett set to work； she dragged off the counterpane； blankets and
sheets； and stooped to lift the pillows。 Thus stooping； something
arrested her attention； she looked closelymore closelyvery
closely。 'Well； to be sure！' was all she could say。 The clerk's
wife stood as if the air had suddenly set to amber； and held her
fixed like a fly in it。
The object of her wonder was a trailing brown hair； very little less
than a yard long； which proved it clearly to be a hair from some
woman's head。 She drew it off the pillow； and took it to the
window； there holding it out she looked fixedly at it； and became
utterly lost in meditation： her gaze； which had at first actively
settled on the hair； involuntarily dropped past its object by
degrees and was lost on the floor； as the inner vision obscured the
outer one。
She at length moistened her lips； returned her eyes to the hair；
wound it round her fingers； put it in some paper； and secreted the
whole in her pocket。 Mrs。 Crickett's thoughts were with her work no
more that morning。
She searched the house from roof…tree to cellar； for some other
trace of feminine existence or appurtenance； but none was to be
found。
She went out into the yard； coal…hole； stable； hay…loft； green…
house； fowl…house； and piggery； and still there was no sign。 Coming
in again； she saw a bonnet； eagerly pounced upon it； and found it to
be her own。
Hastily completing her arrangements in the other rooms； she entered
the village again； and called at once on the postmistress； Elizabeth
Leat； an intimate friend of hers； and a female who sported several
unique diseases and afflictions。
Mrs。 Crickett unfolded the paper； took out the hair； and waved it on
high before the perplexed eyes of Elizabeth； which immediately
mooned and wandered after it like a cat's。
'What is it？' said Mrs。 Leat； contracting her eyelids； and
stretching out towards the invisible object a narrow bony hand that
would have been an unmitigated delight to the pencil of Carlo
Crivelli。
'You shall hear；' said Mrs。 Crickett； complacently gathering up the
treasure into her own fat hand； and the secret was then solemnly
imparted； together with the accident of its discovery。
A shaving…glass was taken down from a nail； laid on its back in the
middle of a table by the window； and the hair spread carefully out
upon it。 The pair then bent over the table from opposite sides；
their elbows on the edge； their hands supporting their heads； their
foreheads nearly touching； and their eyes upon the hair。
'He ha' been mad a'ter my lady Cytherea；' said Mrs。 Crickett； 'and
'tis my very belief the hair is'
'No 'tidn'。 Hers idn' so dark as that；' said Elizabeth。
'Elizabeth； you know that as the faithful wife of a servant of the
Church； I should be glad to think as you do about the girl。 Mind I
don't wish to say anything against Miss Graye； but this I do say；
that I believe her to be a nameless thing； and she's no right to
stick a moral clock in her face； and deceive the country in such a
way。 If she wasn't of a bad stock at the outset she was bad in the
planten； and if she wasn't bad in the planten； she was bad in the
growen； and if not in the growen； she's made bad by what she's gone
through since。'
'But I have another reason for knowing it idn' hers；' said Mrs。
Leat。
'Ah！ I know whose it is thenMiss Aldclyffe's； upon my song！'
''Tis the colour of hers； but I don't believe it to be hers either。'
'Don't you believe what they d' say about her and him？'
'I say nothen about that； but you don't know what I know about his
letters。'
'What about 'em？'
'He d' post all his letters here except those for one person； and
they he d' take to Budmouth。 My son is in Budmouth Post Office； as
you know； and as he d' sit at desk he can see over the blind of the
window all the people who d' post letters。 Mr。 Manston d'
unvariably go there wi' letters for that person； my boy d' know 'em
by sight well enough now。'
'Is it a she？'
''Tis a she。'
'What's her name？'
'The little stunpoll of a fellow couldn't call to mind more than
that 'tis Miss Somebody； of London。 However； that's the woman who
ha' been here； depend upon'ta wicked onesome poor street…wench
escaped from Sodom； I warrant ye。'
'Only to find herself in Gomorrah； seemingly。'
'That may be。'
'No； no； Mrs。 Leat； this is clear to me。 'Tis no miss who came here
to see our steward last nightwhenever she came or wherever she
vanished。 Do you think he would ha' let a miss get here how she
could； go away how she would； without breakfast or help of any
kind？'
Elizabeth shook her headMrs。 Crickett looked at her solemnly。
'I say I know she had no help of any kind； I know it was so； for the
grate was quite cold when I touched it this morning with these
fingers； and he was still in bed。 No； he wouldn't take the trouble
to write letters to a girl and then treat her so off…hand as that。
There's a tie between 'em stronger than feelen。 She's his wife。'
'He married！ The Lord so 's； what shall we hear next？ Do he look
married now？ His are not the abashed eyes and lips of a married
man。'
'Perhaps she's a tame onebut she's his wife still。'
'No； no： he's not a married man。'
'Yes； yes； he is。 I've had three； and I ought to know。'
'Well； well；' said Mrs。 Leat； giving way。 'Whatever may be the
truth on't I trust Providence will settle it all for the best； as He
always do。'
'Ay； ay； Elizabeth；' rejoined Mrs。 Crickett with a satirical sigh；
as she turned on her foot to go home； 'good people like you may say
so； but I have always