: The Deceased Wife's Sister and My Beautiful Neighbour v. 3 by Russell William Clark - English fiction 19th century

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a sequestered life. I visit nowhere. I receive no visits. Is it because I am a Roman Catholic that you are curious?"

"Do you take me for a missionary, Mrs. Fraser? I assure you I was ignorant of your faith. Of your habits I know only from the information of my housekeeper. A fellow-feeling makes us kind. I, too, am a recluse, loving solitude as well as yourself."

"Impossible!" she exclaimed impetuously, "or you would not have called here."

I could have told her that I loved beauty more than solitude. But I held my tongue.

"Where did you meet me?" she asked.

"I met you in the fields outside our respective grounds."

"Never!" she cried. "Never have I passed the gate that leads into those fields."

There was something singular in her vehemence. But it made her beauty more remarkable by the life it imparted to it.

"But this has been told me before," she continued rapidly. "Yes, I remember. Your housekeeper asked my servant if I were not in the habit of taking midnight rambles. Oh, how can you justify the rudeness of such questions?"

"They were asked unknown to myself. Be sure, I should never have sanctioned them, if I had questions to ask, I should be bold, and interrogate you, not your domestic."

"Questions to ask! What are you to me that you should question me?"

"Nothing. I am to you no more than your servant is to me. But you are something to me. Is it possible, do you think, that I could look upon your face without interest?"

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