The room seemed to be full of light, although the day was every bit as grey and forbidding as it had been before. “So where does all this light come from?” wondered Arabella. “It is almost as if it shines out of the paintings, but that is impossible.” The paintings were all of Venice3 and certainly the great quantities of sky and sea which they contained made the room seem somehow insubstantial.

When she had done examining the paintings upon one wall, she turned to cross to the opposite wall and immediately discovered – much to her mortification – that she was not alone. A young woman was sitting before the fire on a blue sopha, regarding her with some curiosity. The sopha had a rather high back, which was the reason Arabella had not observed her before.

“Oh! I do beg your pardon!”

The young woman said nothing.

She was a remarkably elegant woman with a pale, perfect skin and dark hair most gracefully arranged. She wore a gown of white muslin and an Indian shawl of ivory, silver and black. She seemed altogether too well dressed to be a governess and too much at home to be a lady’s companion. Yet if she were a guest in the house, why had Sir Walter not introduced her?

Arabella curtsied to the young woman and, blushing slightly, said, “I thought there was no one here! I beg your pardon for intruding upon you.” She turned to leave.

“Oh!” said the young woman. “I hope you do not think of going! I so rarely see any one – scarcely any one at all! And besides you wished to see the paintings! You cannot deny it, you know, for I saw you in that mirror as you entered the room and your intention was plain.” A large Venetian mirror hung above the fireplace. It had a most elaborate frame which was also made of mirror-glass and it was decorated with the ugliest glass flowers and scrolls imaginable. “I hope,” said the young woman, “that you will not allow me to prevent you.”

“But I fear I disturb you,” said Arabella.

“Oh, but you do not!” The young woman gestured towards the paintings, “Pray. Continue.”

So, feeling it would be a still worse breach of manners to refuse, Arabella thanked the young woman and went and examined the other paintings, but she did it less minutely than before because she was conscious that the young woman watched her in the mirror the entire time.

When she had finished, the young woman asked Arabella to sit. “And how do they please you?” she asked.