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〃Thank you；〃 said Mrs。 Finch。 〃I find novels compose my mind。 Do you read
novels too？ Remind meand I'll lend you this one to…morrow。〃 I expressed
my acknowledgments； and withdrew。 At the door； I look round； saluting the
lady of the house。 Mrs。 Finch was promenading the room； with the baby in
one hand and the novel in the other； and the dimity bedgown trailing
behind her。
We ascended the stairs； and entered a bare white…washed passage； with
drab…colored doors in it； leading； as I presumed； into the sleeping
chambers of the house。
Every door opened as we passed； children peeped out at me； screamed at
me； and banged the door to again。 〃What family has the present Mrs。
Finch？〃 I asked。 The decent elderly woman was obliged to stop； and
consider。 〃Including the baby； ma'am； and two sets of twins； and one
seven months' child of deficient intellectfourteen in all。〃 Hearing
this； I beganthough I consider priests； kings； and capitalists to be
the enemies of the human raceto feel a certain exceptional interest in
Reverend Finch。 Did he never wish that he had been a priest of the Roman
Catholic Church； mercifully forbidden to marry at all？ While the question
passed through my mind； my guide took out a key； and opened a heavy oaken
door at the further end of the passage。
〃We are obliged to keep the door locked； ma'am；〃 she explained； 〃or the
children would be in and out of our part of the house all day long。〃
After my experience of the children； I own I looked at the oaken door
with mingled sentiments of gratitude and respect。
We turned a corner； and found ourselves in the vaulted corridor of the
ancient portion of the house。
The casement windows； on one sidesunk deep in recesseslooked into the
garden。 Each recess was filled with groups of flowers in pots。 On the
other side； the old wall was gaily decorated with hangings of bright
chintz。 The doors were colored of a creamy white； with gilt moldings。 The
brightly ornamented matting under our feet I at once recognized as of
South American origin。 The ceiling above was decorated in delicate pale
blue； with borderings of flowers。 Nowhere down the whole extent of the
place was so much as a single morsel of dark color to be seen anywhere。
At the lower end of the corridor； a solitary figure in a pure white robe
was bending over the flowers in the window。 This was the blind girl whose
dark hours I had come to cheer。 In the scattered villages of the South
Downs； the simple people added their word of pity to her name； and called
her compassionately〃Poor Miss Finch。〃 As for me； I can only think of
her by her pretty Christian name。 She is 〃Lucilla〃 when my memory dwells
on her。 Let me call her 〃Lucilla〃 here。
When my eyes first rested on her； she was picking off the dead leaves
from her flowers。 Her delicate ear detected the sound of my strange
footstep； long before I reached the place at which she was standing。 She
lifted her headand advanced quickly to meet me with a faint flush on
her face； which came and died away again in a moment。 I happen to have
visited the picture gallery at Dresden in former years。 As she approached
me； nearer and nearer； I was irresistibly reminded of the gem of that
superb collectionthe matchless Virgin of Raphael； called 〃The Madonna
di San Sisto。〃 The fair broad forehead； the peculiar fullness of the
flesh between the eyebrow and the eyelid； the delicate outline of the
lower face； the tender； sensitive lips； the color of the complexion and
the hairall reflected； with a startling fidelity； the lovely creature
of the Dresden picture。 The one fatal point at which the resemblance
ceased； was in the eyes。 The divinely…beautiful eyes of Raphael's Virgin
were lost in the living likeness of her that confronted me now。 There was
no deformity； there was nothing to recoil from； in my blind Lucilla。 The
poor； dim； sightless eyes had a faded； changeless； inexpressive lookand
that was all。 Above them； below them； round them； to the very edges of
her eyelids； there was beauty； movement； life。 _In_ themdeath！ A more
charming creaturewith that one sad drawbackI never saw。 There was no
other personal defect in her。 She had the fine height； the well…balanced
figure； and the length of the lower limbs； which make all a woman's
movements graceful of themselves。 Her voice was deliciousclear；
cheerful； sympathetic。 This； and her smilewhich added a charm of its
own to the beauty of her mouthwon my heart； before she had got close
enough to me to put her hand in mine。 〃Ah； my dear！〃 I said； in my
headlong way； 〃I am so glad to see you！〃 The instant the words passed my
lips； I could have cut my tongue out for reminding her in that brutal
manner that she was blind。
To my relief； she showed no sign of feeling it as I did。 〃May I see you；
in _my_ way？〃 she asked gentlyand held up her pretty white hand。 〃May I
touch your face？〃
I sat down at once on the window…seat。 The soft rosy tips of her fingers
seemed to cover my whole face in an instant。 Three separate times she
passed her hand rapidly over me； her own face absorbed all the while in
breathless attention to what she was about。 〃Speak again！〃 she said
suddenly； holding her hand over me in suspense。 I said a few words。 She
stopped me by a kiss。 〃No more！〃 she exclaimed joyously。 〃Your voice says
to my ears； what your face says to my fingers。 I know I shall like you。
Come in； and see the rooms we are going to live in together。〃
As I rose； she put her arm round my waistthen instantly drew it away
again； and shook her fingers impatiently； as if something had hurt them。
〃A pin？〃 I asked。
〃No！ no！ What colored dress have you got on？〃
〃Purple。〃
〃Ah！ I knew it！ Pray don't wear dark colors。 I have my own blind horror
of anything that is dark。 Dear Madame Pratolungo； wear pretty bright
colors； to please _me！_〃 She put her arm caressingly round me
againround my neck； however； this time； where her hand could rest on my
linen collar。 〃You will change your dress before dinnerwon't you？〃 she
whispered。 〃Let me unpack for you； and choose which dress I like。〃
The brilliant decorations of the corridor were explained to me now！
We entered the rooms； her bed…room； my bed…room； and our sitting…room
between the two。 I was prepared to find them； what they proved to beas
bright as looking…glasses； and gilding； and gaily…colored ornaments； and
cheerful knick…knacks of all sorts could make them。 They were more like
rooms in my lively native country than rooms in sober colorless England。
The one thing which I own did still astonish me； was that all this
sparkling beauty of adornment in Lucilla's habitation should have been
provided for the express gratification of a young lady who could not see。
Experience was yet to show me that the blind can live in their
imaginations； and have their favorite fancies and illusions like the rest
of us。
To satisfy Lucilla by changing my dark purple dress； it was necessary
that I should first have my boxes。 So far as I knew； Finch's boy had
taken my luggage； along with the pony； to the stables。 Before Lucilla
could ring the bell to make inquiries； my elderly guide （who had silently
left us while we were t