d through several rooms; but either they were interior rooms
without windows, or else the windows were closely muffled, for they
were so dark I could hardly find my way. But when at last our
conductor drew back a curtain, a tempered light streamed upon us, and
showed me that the cornices of the anteroom where we were standing were
gilded, that the carpet which I was crushing under my feet, was the
color of wine, and every fold of the velvet curtain where it took the
light like a ruby. The servant, holding it back, was a strange
creature, with a tightly closed mouth, and eyes that looked as if he
kept them open only a crack to see out of, but not on any account to
let any one peep in. He waved at the room in front of us, and then,
still silent as an apparition, returned, disappearing into the gloom
through which we had come, carrying Mr. Dingley's card with him. I
followed Mr. Dingley into the great apartment, which I thought must be
the _sala_ of the house, and sat down in the midst of its magnificence.

It was in strange contrast to the neglect of the garden without; and to
my eyes it was novel in character. There were dark portraits in old
gold frames on the wall; curtains shutting out all light, but the
faintest and most colored; mirrors multiplying the tapestries and
marble statues, and seeming to extend the very walls of the room
itself. I kept catching glimpses of figures standing in these delusive
vistas, and then, with a start, realizing they were but myself.
Presently the servant returned. I saw multiple images of him advancing
upon me from all sides as if to surround me. They flitted,
disappeared, and the real presence bowed.

"The Senora wishes to say she is too ill to descend to the _sala_.
Will the Senorita graciously come up-stairs?"

Mr. Dingley turned to me. "That's about as I expected. Then I will
wait for you here."

Involuntarily I took hold of his coat, "But you said I shouldn't go
alone!"

"Oh, of course, of course," he smiled. "I meant I'd come with you to
the house. That's one matter. But to go up-stairs, that's hardly
possible! Don't you see, Miss Ellie," he lowered his voice, "it's
quite probable this is just a ruse to get rid of me? She would hardly
want to speak before a third party."

The reminder that the Spanish Woman was going to speak, and the
probability of what that speech might mean was enough to make me
relinquish Mr. Dingley's coat, and send me in the wake of th