easy and familiar tone, addressing each by his or her name; constantly referring to the conversation she had had with them at the hospitable board of Lord Giantdale; and not a little surprised to find the whole party, both ladies and gentlemen, who were before so kind and friendly, now so mysteriously, so unintelligibly cold and distant. She at last began to think that this was a concerted plan, and that Lord Giantdale would presently put an end to the mystification by himself appearing. Actuated by this idea, and not willing to allow his Lordship the triumph of having deceived her penetration, she said to the Counsellor of Finance, with a smile: Come, Counsellor, put your legs in motion, and start Lord Giantdale from his hiding place.”
It was a clear case; this last touch proved beyond a doubt that the imagination of the Countess was sadly disordered, and everybody was sorry for a person who appeared so rational, so intelligent, except where the Giant Mountains were concerned, The Countess, on her part, guessing from the signs, nods, looks, and motions, interchanged around her, that it was suspected the disease of her limbs had taken possession of her brain, thought she could not better remove this impression than by a full narrative of the adventure that had befallen her on the mountains. She was listened to with that sort of attention usually paid to a story, for the moment amusing
