I was resting at my favourite point after a long ramble, and Charley was gathering violets at a little distance from me.  I had been looking at the Ghost’s Walk lying in a deep shade of masonry afar off and picturing to myself the female shape that was said to haunt it when I became aware of a figure approaching through the wood.  The perspective was so long and so darkened by leaves, and the shadows of the branches on the ground made it so much more intricate to the eye, that at first I could not discern what figure it was.  By little and little it revealed itself to be a woman’s—­a lady’s—­Lady Dedlock’s.  She was alone and coming to where I sat with a much quicker step, I observed to my surprise, than was usual with her.

I was fluttered by her being unexpectedly so near (she was almost within speaking distance before I knew her) and would have risen to continue my walk.  But I could not.  I was rendered motionless.  Not so much by her hurried gesture of entreaty, not so much by her quick advance and outstretched hands, not so much by the great change in her manner and the absence of her haughty self-restraint, as by a something in her face that I had pined for and dreamed of when I was a little child, something I had never seen in any face, something I had never seen in hers before.

A dread and faintness fell upon me, and I called to Charley.  Lady Dedlock stopped upon the instant and changed back almost to what I had known her.

“Miss Summerson, I am afraid I have startled you,” she said, now advancing slowly.  “You can scarcely be strong yet.  You have been very ill, I know.  I have been much concerned to hear it.”

I could no more have removed my eyes from her pale face than I could have stirred from the bench on which I sat.  She gave me her hand, and its deadly coldness, so at variance with the enforced composure of her features, deepened the fascination that overpowered me.  I cannot say what was in my whirling thoughts.

“You are recovering again?” she asked kindly.

“I was quite well but a moment ago, Lady Dedlock.”

“Is this your young attendant?”

“Yes.”

“Will you send her on before and walk towards your house with me?”

“Charley,” said I, “take your flowers home, and I will follow you directly.”

Charley, with her best curtsy, blushingly tied on her bonnet and went her way.  When she was gone, Lady Dedlock sat down on the seat beside me.

I cannot tell in any words what the state of my mind was when I saw in her hand my handkerchief with which I had covered the dead baby.