The astonishment of the domestic at seeing her mistress taken down to
the dining-room by the new lodger was only exceeded by that of Charley,
as, with his mother on his arm, he followed the strangely assorted pair.
"I knew she was a witch," he murmured, "with her human skull and her
Joanna Southcott; but this beats old Margery's doings at Gethin."
"Hush, hush!" whispered his mother, for Charley's high spirits and
audacity always terrified her when exhibited in his father's presence:
"they have found they have a common acquaintance, and so made friends."
"Father didn't know Swedenborg, did he?" answered the young man, slyly.
"My belief is, he has fallen in love with her. I saw a black cat on the
stairs. She can make any body do it, as I was telling Aggey" (the young
rogue had been to Soho since the morning); "I shall be the next victim,
no doubt. It's no use saying to myself, 'Thou shalt not marry thy
grandmother.' Her charms are too powerful for the rubric. You'll see
she'll not say grace."
Mr. Charles was right in that particular of his diagnosis of their new
guest. Mrs. Basil did treat that devotional formula, which Mrs. Coe
never omitted to pronounce, in spite of her husband's contemptuous
shrugs, with considerable indifference. She sat opposite to Charley, and
more than once, when he looked up suddenly, he caught her gaze fixed
earnestly upon him.
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