and being immediately at the foot of the
mountain, and closely surrounded with trees, can not at night be
distinguished from the mountain itself."

Here the carriage road curved around an expansion of the river that
might have been taken either for a very small lake, or a very large
pond. And about midway of this curve, or semi-circle, the carriage drew
up.

On the left-hand was dimly seen the lake; on the right-hand the gate
letting into the elm-tree avenue that led straight up to the house.

"That is the Black Pond, and there is Black Hall. More 'blackness,' Mrs.
Blondelle," smiled Sybil, who was so delighted to get home that she
forgot her jealousy.

The carriage waited only until the gates could be opened by the slow old
porter, whom Sybil laughingly greeted as "Cerberus," although the name
given him in baptism was that of the keeper of the keys of heaven, and
not that of the guardian of the entrance to the other place.

"Cerberus," or rather Peter, warmly welcomed his young mistress back,
and widely stretched the gates for her carriage to pass.

As the carriage rolled easily along the avenue, now thickly carpeted
with forest leaves, and as it approached the house, the fine old
building, with its many gable ends and curiously twisted chimneys, its
steep roofs and latticed windows--all monuments of the old colonial
days--came more and more distinctly into view from its background of
mountains. Lights were gleaming from upper and lower and all sorts of
windows, and the whole aspect of the grand old hospitable mansion
proclaimed, "WELCOME."

CHAPTER IX.

THE GUEST-CHAMBERS.

Deserted rooms of luxury and state,
Which old magnificence had rudely furnished
With pictures, cabinets of ancient date,
And carvings, gilt and burnished,--HOOD.

The carriage drew up at the foot of a flight of stone steps, leading to
the front entrance of the house. The double oak doors stood wide open,
showing the lighted hall and a group of people waiting.

Sybil looked eagerly from the carriage window.

"I do declare," she exclaimed, "if there is not, not only Miss Tabby,
but Miss Libby and Mrs. Winterose besides; Mrs. Winterose," she
explained, turning to her guest, "is the widow of our late land steward.
She is also my foster-mother, and the mother of the two maiden ladies,
Miss Tabby, who is our ho