r trees. At
last every soul under its roof was asleep--all but one. That one was
very wide awake and intent on mischief.

Love-making, dear reader, although you may not know it, is a wearisome
business, even if ever so agreeable. Especially is it wearisome to
those like Miss Arthur--maidens whose waists are too tight, whose
complexions will ill-endure lip service, and whose tresses are liable
to become not only dishevelled but dislocated. Therefore, when Miss
Arthur had dismissed her lover, with a sigh of regret, she lost no
time in doffing her glories with a sigh of relief.

Even a very rich and hearty luncheon, which her maid had provided, was
gormandized rather than enjoyed, so tempting did her couch look to the
worn-out damsel.

Miss Arthur had refreshed herself with an hour's uninterrupted repose,
and was revelling in a dreamy Arcadia, hand in hand with her beloved,
when something cold falling on her cheek dispelled her visions. She
started broad awake, and face to face with a horrible reality.

The moon was pouring a flood of silvery light in through the two
windows, facing the south, whose curtains were drawn back, making the
room almost as light as at mid-day.

And there, near her bed, almost within reach of her hand, stood
_Madeline Payne_, all swathed in white clinging cerements, ghastly as
a corpse, hollow-eyed and awful, but, nevertheless, Madeline Payne!
Over her white temples dropped rings of curly, yellow hair, and across
the pale lips a mocking smile was flitting.

Miss Arthur gasped and closed her eyes very tight, but they would not
stay closed. They flew open again to behold the vision still there.
The spinster was transfixed with horror. Cold drops of perspiration
oozed out upon her forehead and trickled down her nose. She clutched
at the bedclothes convulsively, and gazed and gazed.

Wider and wider stared her eyes, but no sound escaped her lips. She
gazed and gazed, but the specter would not vanish. Poor Miss Arthur
was terror-stricken almost to the verge of catalepsy.

In consideration of the persistence with which they return again and
again, according to good authority, ghosts in general must be endowed
with much patience. Be this as it may of the average ghost, certain it
is that this particular apparition, after glaring immovably at the
spinster for the space of five minutes, began to find it monotonous.

Slowly, slowly from among the snowy drapery came forth a white hand,
that point