case.

As for Catherine, on being told that the figures she had beheld in the
vision were thought to be those of her ancestors, she was not so much
surprised as I expected, but said that she had had a presentiment all
along that the tragedies she had witnessed were in some way connected
with her own family.

I must not forget to say that on ascertaining that the parish church of
Haslet was still standing, we searched the register, and another link of
evidence was made clear by the finding of the looked-for entry.

There remains little more to be told. The charge of the old will was
committed to Mr. Fleet, and Catherine's story has been carefully laid up
among the archives of our family. I say advisedly of _our_ family, for
the line of the L'Estranges, alias St. Aubyns, has been united to ours
by the marriage of Catherine to my son George, which took place in 1850.

I who write this am an old woman now, but I still live with my son and
daughter-in-law.

George has bought Craymoor Grange, thus rendering justice after the
lapse of two centuries, and restoring the inheritance of her fathers to
the rightful owner.

I have but one more incident to relate, and I have done. A short time
ago, old Miss l'Estrange died, bequeathing all her worldly possessions
to Catherine. Among these were some old family relics. Catherine was
looking over them as George unpacked them, and she presently came to a
miniature of a young and beautiful girl with fair hair and blue eyes,
and a wistful expression, and with it a necklace of pearls strung in a
diamond pattern. On seeing these she became suddenly grave, and handing
them to me, said: "They are the same; the young girl, and the pearl
necklace I told you of." No more was said at the time, for the children
were present, and we had always avoided alluding to the horrible family
tragedy before them; but if we had still retained any doubt about its
truth--which we had not--this would have set it at rest.

If you were to visit Craymoor Grange now, you would find no old laundry.
The part of the house containing it has been pulled down, and children
play and chickens peckett on the ground where it once stood.

The oaken chest has also long since been destroyed.

HAUNTED.

Some few years ago one of those great national conventions which draw
together all ages and conditions of the sovereign people of America was
held in Charleston, South Carolina.

Colonel Demarion, one of the Sta