u would
work till your poor fingers got thin, and your spirits were all
flattened out, and every nerve was jarring and set on edge; and you
would call that duty! No, darling,--never! Dulce shall keep her roses,
and we will have battledore and shuttlecock every evening; but, if I
have to keep the key of the work-room in my pocket, you and Dulce
shall never enter it after tea." And Nan's good sense, as usual,
carried the day.

Phillis would much rather have joined her sisters in their walk than
have turned in at the gloomy lodge-gates.

"'All ye who enter here, leave hope behind,'"

she quoted, softly, as she waved her hand to Nan.

The servant who admitted her looked a little dubious over his errand.

"His mistress was in her room," he believed, "and was far too unwell
to see visitors. He would tell Miss Mewlstone, if the young lady liked
to wait; but he was sure it was no use,"--all very civilly said. And
as Phillis persisted in her intention of seeing Mrs. Cheyne, if
possible, he ushered her into the library, a gloomy-looking room, with
closed blinds, one of which he drew up, and then went in search of
Miss Mewlstone.

Phillis did not find her surroundings particularly cheerful. The air
was darkened by the approaching storm. A sullen cloud hung over the
sky. The library windows opened upon the shrubberies. Here the trees
were planted so thickly that their shade obscured much of the light.
The room was so dark that she could only dimly discern the handsome
bindings of the books in the carved oak book-cases. The whole of the
furniture seemed sombre and massive. The chair that the footman had
placed for her was covered with violet velvet, and was in harmony with
the rest of the furniture.

Dreary as the room looked, it was nothing to the shrubbery walk. A
narrow winding path seemed to vanish into utter darkness. In some
places the trees met overhead, so closely had they grown.

"If I were the mistress of the White House," Phillis said to herself,
"I would cut every one of those trees down. They must make this part
of the house quite unhealthy. It really looks like a 'ghost walk' that
one reads about." But scarcely had these thoughts passed through her
mind when she uttered a faint cry of alarm. The dark room, the
impending storm, and her own overwrought feelings were making her
nervous; but actually, through the gloom, she could see a figure in
white approaching.

In another moment she would have s