You may see her room here," she went on, opening a door and not
noticing the effect of her words on Adam. He rose and followed her, and
darted an eager glance into the little room with its narrow bed, the
portrait of Wesley on the wall, and the few books lying on the large
Bible. He had had an irrational hope that Hetty might be there. He could
not speak in the first moment after seeing that the room was empty; an
undefined fear had seized him--something had happened to Hetty on the
journey. Still the old woman was so slow of; speech and apprehension,
that Hetty might be at Snowfield after all.
"It's a pity ye didna know," she said. "Have ye come from your own
country o' purpose to see her?"
"But Hetty--Hetty Sorrel," said Adam, abruptly; "Where is she?"
"I know nobody by that name," said the old woman, wonderingly. "Is it
anybody ye've heared on at Snowfield?"
"Did there come no young woman here--very young and pretty--Friday was a
fortnight, to see Dinah Morris?"
"Nay; I'n seen no young woman."
"Think; are you quite sure? A girl, eighteen years old, with dark eyes
and dark curly hair, and a red cloak on, and a basket on her arm? You
couldn't forget her if you saw her."
"Nay; Friday was a fortnight--it was the day as Dinah went away--there
come nobody.
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