MISTRESS BELL 
“ Mistress Bell’s at home.” No one ever heard other- 
wise who called at her house. She had spent nearly thirty 
years in that house — she never left it — in that room I was 
going to say, but she was wheeled into an adjoining bed- 
room to bed, and that was all. She sat for ever in an arm- 
chair by the window, from which she could see out into the 
courtyard and watch the sun set behind the old Lime-trees, 
and see whoever came or went. She confessed to a frank 
pleasure in the coming and going of people to the house. 
These were many, as Mr. Bell was factor to many neigh- 
bouring gentlemen, and was busy and popular to an 
uncommon degree. She knew every bit of current news, 
but gossip, and even scandal, when it came to Rosebank, 
was somehow purified before it went any farther, and became 
innocent friendly interest. 
Nothing could go on in Mirelaw without coming to the 
knowledge of Mistress Bell, and her gentle censorship 
was doubtless cause that the Black Sheet was less black 
there than elsewhere in Sheriff Hume’s jurisdiction. More 
marriages were celebrated there than were, alas ! deemed 
necessary in neighbouring parishes, and obdurate cases were 
brought to her by parson, minister and priest alike, to be 
vanquished by her in the power of that love which enwrapt 
her like a mantle. I can see her now, sitting up in her big 
carved chair, her keen, clever face all alight with interest in 
the topic of the moment ; she was not beautiful, except her 
eyes, which were clear like limpid brown backwater, and 
full of soul. 
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