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high connection。 If it had been a speculation； sir； it would have
brought money。 And when I say so； you may trust to my being
right； sir； for I have made it my business to study my high
connection； and to be able to wind it up like a clock； sir。”
Thus rumour thrives in the capital； and will not go down into
Lincolnshire。 By half…past five； post meridian； Horse Guards’ time；
it has even elicited a new remark from the Honourable Mr Stables；
which bids fair to outshine the old one； on which he has so long
rested his colloquial reputation。 This sparkling sally is to the effect
that； although he always knew she was the best…groomed woman
in the stud； he had no idea she was a bolter。 It is immensely
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received in turf…circles。
At feasts and festivals also—in firmaments she has often graced；
and among constellations she outshone but yesterday； she is still
the prevalent subject。 What is it？ Who is it？ When was it？ Where
was it？ How was it？ She is discussed by her dear friends with all
the genteelest slang in vogue； with the last new word； the last new
manner； the last new drawl； and the perfection of polite
indifference。 A remarkable feature of the theme is； that it is found
to be so inspiring that several people come out upon it who never
came out before—positively say things！ William Buffy carries one
of these smartnesses from the place where he dines； down to the
House； where the Whip for his party hands it about with his snuff…
box； to keep men together who want to be off； with such effect that
the Speaker （who has had it privately insinuated into his own ear
under the corner of his wig） cries “Order at the bar！” three times
without making an impression。
And not the least amazing circumstance connected with her
being vaguely the town talk； is； that people hovering on the
confines of Mr Sladdery’s high connection； people who know
nothing and ever did know nothing about her； think it essential to
their reputation to pretend that she is their topic too； and to retail
her at second…hand with the last new word and the last new
manner； and the last new drawl； and the last new polite
indifference； and all the rest of it； all at second…hand but
considered equal to new； in inferior systems and to fainter stars。 If
there be any man of letters； art； or science among these little
dealers； how noble in him to support the feeble sisters on such
majestic crutches！
So goes the wintry day outside the Dedlock mansion。 How
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within it？
Sir Leicester lying in his bed can speak a little； though with
difficulty and indistinctness。 He is enjoined to silence and to rest；
and they have given him some opiate to lull his pain； for his old
enemy is very hard with him。 He is never asleep； though
sometimes he seems to fall into a dull waking doze。 He caused his
bedstead to be moved out nearer to the window； when he heard it
was such inclement weather； and his head to be so adjusted； that
he could see the driving snow and sleet。 He watches it as it falls；
throughout the whole wintry day。
Upon the least noise in the house； which is kept hushed； his
hand is at the pencil。 The old housekeeper； sitting by him； knows
what he would write； and whispers； “No； he has not come back
yet； Sir Leicester。 It was late last night when he went。 He has been
but a little time gone yet。”
He withdraws his hand； and falls to looking at the sleet and
snow again； until they seem； by being looked at； to fall so thick and
fast； that he is obliged to close his eyes for a minute on the giddy
whirl of white flakes and icy blots。
He began to look at them as soon as it was light。 The day is not
yet far spent； when he conceives it to be necessary that her rooms
should be prepared for her。 It is very cold and wet。 Let there be
good fires。 Let them know that she is expected。 Please see to it
yourself。 He writes to this purpose on his slate； and Mrs
Rouncewell with a heavy heart obeys。
“For I dread； George；” the old lady says to her son； who waits
below to keep her company when she has a little leisure； “I dread；
my dear； that my Lady will never more set foot within these
walls。”
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“That’s a bad presentiment； mother。”
“Nor yet within the walls of Chesney Wold； my dear。”
“That’s worse。 But why； mother！”
“When I saw my Lady yesterday； George； she looked to me—
and I may say at me too—as if the step on the Ghost’s Walk had
almost walked her down。”
“Come； come！ You alarm yourself with old…story fears； mother。”
“No I don’t； my dear。 No I don’t。 It’s going on for sixty year that
I have been in this family； and I never had any fears for it before。
But it’s breaking up； my dear； the great old Dedlock family is
breaking up。”
“I hope not； mother。”
“I am thankful I have lived long enough to be with Sir Leicester
in this illness and trouble； for I know I am not too old； nor too
useless； to be a welcomer sight to him than anybody else in my
place would be。 But the step on the Ghost’s Walk will walk my
Lady down； George； it has been many a day behind her； and now
it will pass her； and go on。”
“Well； mother dear； I say again； I hope not。”
“Ah； so do I； George；” the old lady returns； shaking her head；
and parting her folded hands。 “But if my fears come true； and he
has to know it； who will tell him！”
“Are these her rooms？”
“These are my Lady’s rooms； just as she left them。”
“Why now；” says the trooper； glancing round him； and speaking
in a lower voice； “I begin to understand how you come to think as
you do think； mother。 Rooms get an awful look about them when
they are fitted up； like these； for one person you are used to see in
them； and that person is away under any shadow： let alone being
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God knows where。”
He is not far out。 As all partings foreshadow the great final
one；—so； empty rooms； bereft of a familiar presence； mournfully
whisper what your room and what mine must one day be。 My
Lady’s state has a hollow look； thus gloomy and abandoned； and in
the inner apartment； where Mr Bucket last night made his secret
perquisition； the traces of her dresses and her ornaments； even
the mirrors accustomed to reflect them when they were a portion
of hers