Then she closed the door, signed to the dogs to be down before the
fire, and went up to her room, after pausing beside her father's door
and listening to his regular breathing. Her room was a large
one--nearly all the rooms in the place were large; and as she undressed
herself slowly she looked round it with a novel sense of loneliness.
The tall shadows of her graceful yet girlish figure were cast
grotesquely on the wall by the candles beside her glass. She had never
felt lonely before, though her life ever since she had arrived at the
Hall might be called one almost of solitude.
She had been so absorbed in the duties which had so suddenly fallen
upon her young shoulders that there had been no time in which to feel
the want of companionship. There had always been something to think of,
something to do; her father demanded so much attention; the house, the
land, the farm--she had to look after them all; there had not been time
to think even of herself; and it had never occurred to her that she was
leading a life so different to that led by most girls. But to-night the
silence of the great house, large enough to hold fifty people, but
sheltering only five persons--her father and herself and the three
servants--weighed upon her.
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