hings to rights, and opening the windows. I
looked out far over the tree-tops, and fell a-thinking. I can remember
that I almost went into a passion with that faded dog-boy there on the
tapestry, who grins and looks so happy, shewing all his teeth.
'Whatever happens, that fool must grin,' I said; sorrow had made me
that distracted, that even a picture on the wall could provoke me,
Sir."

"All at once I heard the piano in the room below me, long before the
time when my master was used to rise. 'The whole world is topsy-turvy;'
I thought, as I went downstairs. Now that I was sure not to meet the
count, I wanted to go and look for my dear boy all over the castle and
about the grounds."

"When I came to the door of my lady's room, where we had put Mamsell
Gabrielle, I could not pass it. I felt drawn in against my will, as it
were--it was like those places where dreadful murders have been
committed. I stood staring at the glass, and talking to myself like a
mad woman. We women are a weak and a curious race, you know. Sir, and
have a right to be, as our mother Eve was before us; and I could not
help fumbling about till I had found the mechanism; and then, I
thought, I would take one peep at the hidden passage--just one peep, I
thought--but when the mirror turned upon its hinges, I had one foot
over without intending it, and then the other--and I found myself
walking on, hardly venturing to breathe, and the door had closed behind
me of itself. I was not frightened. If I really never did get out, or
saw the light of day again, what would it matter? What is there in the
world to please me, where all is temptation and disappointment, and
where one man plays the part of Lucifer to the other?

"I saw a faint streak of light falling through a crack, and so I went
on till I came to the steps; I went up cautiously; I heard the piano
getting louder and louder as I went up. While I live, I shall not
forget that strange feeling; the dark dank air, like a prison, and the
beautiful music pealing above my head.

"I felt as if I were in my grave, and thousands of birds were singing
over the sod, and I could hear them and understand them all. At the
last step I stood still--'Where does this lead to?' I thought, 'and
shall I be able to get out?' and I turned cold all aver, when I saw
that this passage could only lead into Count Henry's morning-room, just
where the piano stood. If I were to walk in suddenly, what would he
think of me?

"