om the carriage and passed up the steps to an open door
which, at the pausing of our carriage wheels, had been set ajar. An
old woman, the feminine counterpart of my sulky driver, stood in the
dimly-lighted passage-way to receive me. She vouchsafed me but a grum
welcome, but I felt already too desolate and weary to experience any
further depression from her humor.

Bidding me follow her, and ordering the man to carry my luggage, she led
me directly through the hall up the stairway to a chamber evidently
prepared for my use. The apartment was prettily furnished, and its tidy
appearance and the cheerful fire burning on the hearth quite roused my
drooping spirits.

After assisting me to remove my bonnet and shawl, my conductress left me,
returning ere long with a tray containing refreshments. These she set
before me with silent hospitality; then bade me goodnight, saying she
would call me in the morning at eight o'clock for breakfast.

My sleep that night was disturbed by dreams, which though vague filled me
with terror.

I imagined that I was walking through a long corridor, opening into a
sumptuous apartment, its interior partly concealed by rich folds of
damask curtains. I lifted the heavy drapery and essayed to enter, but a
cold hand grasped mine and prevented me. A woman's figure, slight and
youthful, with white face, great sad eyes, and long yellow hair, stood in
the arched doorway and pressed me back with her clammy hand. I started up
from my pillow in alarm to find myself alone; the pale moonbeams
streaming through the looped curtains of the window and glancing upon my
forehead, I thought, probably accounted for the cold hand of my dream. I
slept, and dreamed again. The scene was changed: a field of stubble lay
before me; through it I must make my way; the rough ground hurt my feet;
I stumbled and fell; attempting to rise, I saw painted in clear relief
against the horizon the same female figure.

Her pale, golden hair hung long and loose over her shoulders. As she
caught my eye she lifted her finger as if in warning, and disappeared
from sight.

CHAPTER II.

From these dreams I awakened in the morning perplexed, disturbed, and
unrefreshed. After dressing, I was summoned to breakfast by the person
who had received me the previous night. She led me down the stairway and
through the hall into the breakfast room.

It was a long, narrow apartment, with wainscots and floor of polished
oak. A bright fire