She was going to
enter the room which had been barred from public sight by poor
Bela's dying body. She was going to see--or had he only meant that
she was to have her way with the library--the room where she had
already been and much of which she remembered. The doubt gave a
tremulous eagerness to her step and caused her eye to wander
immediately to that forbidden corner soon as she had stepped over
the threshold.
The bedroom door was open;--proof that she was expected to enter
there. Meanwhile, she felt the eye of the judge upon her and
endeavoured to preserve a perfect composure and to sink the
curious and inquiring woman in the diligent housekeeper.
But she could not, quite. Two facts of which she immediately
became cognisant, prevented this. First, the great room before her
presented a bare floor, whereas on her first visit it had been
very decently, if not cheerfully, covered by a huge carpet rug.
Secondly, the judge's chair, which had once looked immovable, had
been dragged forward into such a position that he could keep his
own eye on the bedroom door. Manifestly she was not to be allowed
to pursue her duties unwatched. Certainly she had to take more
than one look at the everyday implements she carried to retain
that balance of judgment which should prevent her from becoming
the dupe of her own expectations.
"I do not expect you to clean up here as thoroughly as you have
your own rooms up stairs," he remarked, as she passed him.
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