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Stories enow, if they be true. It is she, or Mary Macmurren, who has, as they say, bewitched the poor young lady here; and it was a spell cast by her, that made the farmer's pretty daughter fall over the crag and break her leg, the week before her wedding.

Before her wedding?

Yes, truly, Madam; and no wedding at all will ever follow such an untoward mischance.

Who told thee this?

Everybody tells it, and knows it to be true.—(After a pause.) But the carrier is waiting.—She does not heed me. (Aside.) What is the matter, Madam? Are you not well?

Dost thou know Grizeld Bane?

Heaven forfend!

Dost thou know where she lives?