The Real Charlotte. 311 



" Oh, she's not the one to find fault with a man for being 

 a soldier any more than yourself, Eliza ! " said Charlotte, 

 who had pulled off her wet gloves and was warming her 

 hands. " Ugh ! How cold it is ! Is there any place up- 

 stairs where I could sit while you were drying my things for 

 me?" 



The thought had occurred to her that it would not be 

 uninteresting to look round the house, and as it transpired 

 that fires were burning in the dining-room and in Mr. Lam- 

 bert's study she left her wet cloak and hat in the kitchen 

 and ascended to the upper regions. She glanced into the 

 drawing-room as she passed its open door, and saw the blue 

 rep chairs ranged in a solemn circle, gazing with all their 

 button eyes at a three-legged table in the centre of the 

 room; the bUnds were drawn down, and the piano was 

 covered with a sheet ; it was altogether as inexpressive of 

 everything, except bad taste, as was possible. Charlotte 

 passed on to the dining-room and stationed herself in front 

 of an indifferent fire there, standing with her back to the 

 chimney-piece and her eyes roving about in search of enter- 

 tainment. Nothing was changed, except that the poor 

 turkey-hen's medicine bottles and pill boxes no longer lurked 

 behind the chimney-piece ornaments ; the bare dinner-table 

 suggested only how soon Francie would be seated at its 

 head, and Charlotte presently prowled on to Mr. Lambert's 

 study at the end of the passage, to look for a better fire, and 

 a room less barren of incident. 



The study grate did not fail of its reputation of being the 

 best in the house, and Mr. Lambert's chair stood by the 

 hearthrug in wide-armed invitation to the visitor. Charlotte 

 sat down in it and slowly warmed one foot after the other, 

 while the pain rose hot and unconquerable in her heart. 

 The whole room was so gallingly famihar, so inseparably 

 connected with the time when she had still a future, vague 

 and improbable as it was, and could live in sufficient con- 

 tent on its slight sustenance. Another future had now to 

 be constructed, she had already traced out some lines of it, 

 and in the perfecting of these she would henceforward find 

 the cure for what she was now suffering. She roused her 

 self, and glancing towards the table saw that on it lay a heap 

 of unopened newspapers and letters ; she got up with 



