tour of her face, which is almost perfect. But it is in the
expression of her mouth that her fascination lies. Without sweetness,
except when it smiles upon her daughter, without mirth, without any
expression speaking of good-will or tenderness, there is yet a turn to
the lips that moves the gazer peculiarly, making it dangerous to watch
her long unless you are hardened by doubts, as I am. Her hands are
exquisite, and her form beauty itself.

The daughter is statuesque; not in the sense of coldness or immobility,
but in the regularity of her features and the absence of any coloring in
her cheeks. She is lovely, and there breathes through every trait a
gentle soul that robs my admiration of all awe and makes my old and
empty heart long to serve her. Her eyes are gray and her hair a reddish
brown, with kinks and curls in it like-- But, pshaw! there comes that
dream again! Was Honora Urquhart's hair so very unique that a head of
wavy brown hair should bring her up so startlingly to my mind?

They are stopping here on their way to Albany--so the elder lady says.
They came from New York. So they did, but if my intuitions are not
greatly at fault, the place they started from was France. The fact that
the marks and labels have all been effaced from their baggage is
suspicious in itself. Can they be friends of the two miserable wretches
who dishonored my house with a ghastly crime? Is it from them that
madame's knowledge comes, if she has any knowledge? The thought awakens
my profoundest distrust. Would that Mr. Tamworth were within reach! I
think I will write him. But what could I write that would not look
foolish on paper? I had better wait a while till I see something or hear
something more definite.

CHAPTER XVIII.

MRS. TRUAX TALKS.

OCTOBER 7, 1791.

[Illustration: T]

This morning I was exceedingly startled by one of my guests suddenly
asking me before several of the others, if my inn had a ghost.

"A ghost!" I cried, for the moment quite aghast.

"Yes," was the reply; "it has the look of a house which could boast of
such a luxury. Don't you think so, Mr. Westgate?"

This is a newcomer who had just been introduced.

"Well," observed the latter, "as I have seen only this room, and as this
room is anything but ghostlike at the present moment, I hardly consider
myself competent to judge."

"But the exterior! Surely you noticed the exterior. Such a rambling old
structure; such a beetling top to