JUST inside the door there appeared the figure of a small woman dressed
in plain and poor black garments. She silently lifted her black net veil
and disclosed a dull, pale, worn, weary face. The forehead was low
and broad; the eyes were unusually far apart; the lower features were
remarkably small and delicate. In health (as the consul at Mannheim had
remarked) this woman must have possessed, if not absolute beauty,
at least rare attractions peculiarly her own. As it was now,
suffering--sullen, silent, self-contained suffering--had marred its
beauty. Attention and even curiosity it might still rouse. Admiration or
interest it could excite no longer.
The small, thin, black figure stood immovably inside the door. The dull,
worn, white face looked silently at the three persons in the room.
The three persons in the room, on their side, stood for a moment without
moving, and looked silently at the stranger on the threshold. There was
something either in the woman herself, or in the sudden and stealthy
manner of her appearance in the room, which froze, as if with the touch
of an invisible cold hand, the sympathies of all three. Accustomed to
the world, habitually at their ease in every social emergency, they
were now silenced for the first time in their lives by the first serious
sense of embarrassment which they had felt since they were children in
the presence of a stranger.
Had the appearance of the true Grace Roseberry aroused in their minds a
suspicion of the woman who had stolen her name, and taken her place in
the house?
Not so much as the shadow of a suspicion of Mercy was at the bottom of
the strange sense of uneasiness which had now deprived them alike of
their habitual courtesy and their habitual presence of mind. It was as
practically impossible for any one of the three to doubt the identity of
the adopted daughter of the house as it would be for you who read these
lines to doubt the identity of the nearest and dearest relative you have
in the world. Circumstances had fortified Mercy behind the strongest of
all natural rights--the right of first possession. Circumstances had
armed her with the most irresistible of all natural forces--the force
of previous association and previous habit. Not by so much as a
hair-breadth was the position of the false Grace Roseberry shaken by
the first appearance of the true Grace Roseberry within the doors of
Mablethorpe House. Lady Janet felt suddenly repelled, without knowing
why. Julian and Horace felt suddenly repelled, without knowing why.
Asked to describe their own sensations at the moment, they would have
shaken their heads in despair, and would have answered in those words.
The vague presentiment of some misfortune to come had entered the room
with the entrance of the woman in black. But it moved invisibly; and it
spoke as all presentiments speak, in the Unknown Tongue.