Topsy was soon a noted character in the establishment.  Her talent for every species of drollery, grimace, and mimicry,—­for dancing, tumbling, climbing, singing, whistling, imitating every sound that hit her fancy,—­seemed inexhaustible.  In her play-hours, she invariably had every child in the establishment at her heels, open-mouthed with admiration and wonder,—­not excepting Miss Eva, who appeared to be fascinated by her wild diablerie, as a dove is sometimes charmed by a glittering serpent.  Miss Ophelia was uneasy that Eva should fancy Topsy’s society so much, and implored St. Clare to forbid it.

“Poh! let the child alone,” said St. Clare.  “Topsy will do her good.”

“But so depraved a child,—­are you not afraid she will teach her some mischief?”

“She can’t teach her mischief; she might teach it to some children, but evil rolls off Eva’s mind like dew off a cabbage-leaf,—­not a drop sinks in.”

“Don’t be too sure,” said Miss Ophelia.  “I know I’d never let a child of mine play with Topsy.”

“Well, your children needn’t,” said St. Clare, “but mine may; if Eva could have been spoiled, it would have been done years ago.”

Topsy was at first despised and contemned by the upper servants.  They soon found reason to alter their opinion.  It was very soon discovered that whoever cast an indignity on Topsy was sure to meet with some inconvenient accident shortly after;—­either a pair of ear-rings or some cherished trinket would be missing, or an article of dress would be suddenly found utterly ruined, or the person would stumble accidently into a pail of hot water, or a libation of dirty slop would unaccountably deluge them from above when in full gala dress;-and on all these occasions, when investigation was made, there was nobody found to stand sponsor for the indignity.  Topsy was cited, and had up before all the domestic judicatories, time and again; but always sustained her examinations with most edifying innocence and gravity of appearance.  Nobody in the world ever doubted who did the things; but not a scrap of any direct evidence could be found to establish the suppositions, and Miss Ophelia was too just to feel at liberty to proceed to any length without it.

The mischiefs done were always so nicely timed, also, as further to shelter the aggressor.  Thus, the times for revenge on Rosa and Jane, the two chamber maids, were always chosen in those seasons when (as not unfrequently happened) they were in disgrace with their mistress, when any complaint from them would of course meet with no sympathy.  In short, Topsy soon made the household understand the propriety of letting her alone; and she was let alone, accordingly.