An effect of these horrors is that Volumnia finds she cannot go to bed in her own room or sit by the fire in her own room, but must come forth with her fair head tied up in a profusion of shawl, and her fair form enrobed in drapery, and parade the mansion like a ghost, particularly haunting the rooms, warm and luxurious, prepared for one who still does not return. Solitude under such circumstances being not to be thought of, Volumnia is attended by her maid, who, impressed from her own bed for that purpose, extremely cold, very sleepy, and generally an injured maid as condemned by circumstances to take office with a cousin, when she had resolved to be maid to nothing less than ten thousand a year, has not a sweet expression of countenance.
The periodical visits of the trooper to these rooms, however, in the course of his patrolling is an assurance of protection and company both to mistress and maid, which renders them very acceptable in the small hours of the night. Whenever he is heard advancing, they both make some little decorative preparation to receive him; at other times they divide their watches into short scraps of oblivion and dialogues not wholly free from acerbity, as to whether Miss Dedlock, sitting with her feet upon the fender, was or was not falling into the fire when rescued (to her great displeasure) by her guardian genius the maid.
"How is Sir Leicester now, Mr. George?" inquires Volumnia, adjusting her cowl over her head.
"Why, Sir Leicester is much the same, miss. He is very low and ill, and he even wanders a little sometimes."
"Has he asked for me?" inquires Volumnia tenderly.

An effect of these horrors is that Volumnia finds she cannot go to bed in her own room, but must come forth with her fair head tied up in a shawl, and parade the mansion like a ghost, particularly haunting the warm rooms prepared for one who still does not return. Volumnia is attended by her maid, who is extremely cold, very sleepy, and does not have a sweet expression on her face.
The periodical visits of the trooper to these rooms, however, is an assurance of protection and company both to mistress and to maid. Whenever he is heard advancing, they both make some little decorative preparation to receive him.
"How is Sir Leicester now, Mr. George?" inquires Volumnia, adjusting her shawl.
"Much the same, miss. He is very low and ill, and he even wanders a little sometimes."
"Has he asked for me?" inquires Volumnia tenderly.
