u know Dr. Casimir and his sister?" I asked her.

"I have seen them, mademoiselle; perhaps once--twice--three times! It
is true madame is lovely as an angel; but they say"--here she lowered
her voice mysteriously--"that she is wedded to a devil! It is true,
mademoiselle--all people say so. And Suzanne Michot--a very respectable
young person, mademoiselle, from Auteuil--she was employed at one time
as under-housemaid at Dr. Casimir's, and she had things to say--ah, to
make the blood like ice!"

"What did she say?" I asked with a half smile.

"Well," and Madame Denise came close to me and looked confidential,
"Suzanne--I assure you a most respectable girl--said that one evening
she was crossing the passage near Madame Casimir's boudoir, and she saw
a light like fire coming through the curtains of the portiere. And she
stopped to listen, and she heard a strange music like the sound of
harps. She ventured to go nearer--Suzanne is a brave girl,
mademoiselle, and most virtuous--and to raise the curtain the smallest
portion just to permit the glance of an eye. And--imagine what she saw."

"Well!" I exclaimed impatiently. "WHAT did she see?"

"Ah, mademoiselle, you will not believe me--but Suzanne Michot has
respectable parents, and would not tell a lie--well, Suzanne saw her
mistress, Madame Casimir, standing up near her couch with both arms
extended as to embrace the air. Round her there was--believe it or not,
mademoiselle, as you please--a ring of light like a red fire, which
seemed to grow larger and redder always. All suddenly, madame grew pale
and more pale, and then fell on her couch as one dead, and all the red
fire went out. Suzanne had fear, and she tried to call out--but now see
what happened to Suzanne! She was PUSHED from the spot, mademoiselle,
pushed along as though by some strong personage; yet she saw no one
till she reached her own door, and in her room she fainted from alarm.
The very next morning Dr. Casimir dismissed her, with her full wages
and a handsome present besides; but he LOOKED at her, Suzanne said, in
a manner to make her tremble from head to foot. Now, mademoiselle,
judge yourself whether it is fit for one who is suffering with nerves
to go to so strange a house!"

I laughed. Her story had not the least effect upon me. In fact, I made
up my mind that the so respectable and virtuous Suzanne Michot had been
drinking some of her master's wine. I said:

"Your words only make me more desirous