I stood motionless. Then fear mastered me. My nerves gave way. I pulled the gate after me and fled.

I entered the house with a beating heart, closed the window with eager fear, and sought my chamber in a mood of wild agitation.

It was long ere I recovered my self-control.

Taken separately, I could have recalled the dream, I might have encountered the spectral shape, without apprehension. It was the combination-it was the leaping of my dream, so to speak, into vital embodiment that had wrought my terror. Nervous enough at all times, my naturally tremulous sensibilities had not been improved by my few weeks of solitude and day dreams. I strode about my bedroom, striving by every argument of logic and philosophy to reassure myself. It was no ghost I had seen. There was a substantiality about the shape that convinced me I had been the spectator of no "shadowy being." What I had beheld was the form of a woman, sorrowful, noble, and serene. The features were stamped upon my memory-graven there by the stylet of Fear. Amid the darkness of the hours that intervened before the welcome morning streamed that countenance stood out.

The morning broke. The pale suffusion filled my room and found me awake. The sun uprose: the birds poured their matins. Soon the hall clock struck my usual hour of rising. I descended and entered the breakfast-room. The servant in attendance eyed me furtively. I could excuse her. I had noticed before she had seen me that my eyes were hollow, my complexion pale, my expression of the care worn kind which no attention to the toilet can diminish.

"Tell Mrs. Williams I want her," said I.

In a few minutes Mrs. Williams appeared. She was a tranquil woman, who was never to be surprised into any emotional outbreak. I saw by the faint lifting of her brows that she remarked my altered air, but she said nothing.

"Please take that chair, Mrs. Williams."

She seated herself and clasped her hands on her lap.

"You will see by my face that I have passed a sleepless night. My motive in desiring your presence is to put it to your female ingenuity -women are better hands at riddles than men-to solve a very mysterious conundrum that offered itself to my eyes about two o'clock this morning."

She eyed me with a sudden furtive keenness. Neither my behaviour, my language, nor my tastes during the time she had known me had quite justified my assumption of intellect in the eyes of this healthy practical woman. I was prepared to believe that she considered me a little touched.

"You don't look very well this morning, sir."

"I don't feel very well. I met with an odd adventure last night. Close against the hedge at the bottom of the grounds I saw a woman,

pacing in the moonlight. She was very beautiful; but in the calm of her beauty there was something terrible. It frightened me. It has made me ill. Is this house haunted ?"

"Haunted, sir! I have never heard of ghosts in these parts. I've slept every night for three years in this house by myself, and never met with anything of the kind."

"You are lucky. I can only assure you I distinctly saw at the time I mentioned a female form draped in white, with yellow hair and black eyes, such as you might dream of, such as I did dream of." "Are you sure, sir, it was not a dream ?”

"Quite sure," I replied impatiently, for what is more vexing than incredulity to a mind still teased with recollection ? "When I dream I usually awake to find myself in bed. If last night's experience was a dream I must have dreamed it in the fields yonder, for when I awoke, or rather when I had fled, my clothes were heavy with dew and my hair moist."

"Mightn't you have gone for a stroll, sir, and on your return, having got to bed, dreamt you saw this thing?"

"Mrs. Williams, you are a sensible woman-do not vex me. I tell you I saw this person, or ghost or angel, or what the deuce else it was, as plainly as I see you. You have sense enough to judge from my appearance and excitement that there is something more in all this than a dream. You have lived here some time, pray have you ever

heard of such a woman as I describe ?"

"Never, sir,” she rejoined with complacent emphasis. "Think. I entreat you to think. This is a mystery I must solve. If I were superstitious I might think it a ghost, but I don't believe in ghosts. You now are a practical woman, what is your opinion ?" "I am afraid I cannot help you, sir. You see there are very few people living about this place, and it could hardly be one of them. There's Mrs. Fraser, the widow, I told you of. It's true I haven't seen her, for I'm told she keeps as close to herself as one of the nuns at Cornpool. But I know her servant; and the girl, who's very respectable, declares her missis is the most quiet and respectable person in the world, a-bed every night at ten and up early at her gardening work, which is her chief amusement."

"You say you have never seen this lady?"

"No, sir. It's not perhaps for the want of her going out-she must do that sometimes, though her servant does all her shopping for her-it's my being shut up here. Before you came, sir, I hardly ever left the house."

"I should very much like to have this lady described to me. If it be she whom I saw, there will be an end of the mystery-(in one sense)," I mentally added. "If not, we must push our inquiries until we learn who this lady is I saw. Know the truth I will."

"I don't see how I can quite get at Mrs. Fraser," began Mrs. Williams.

"You need not see her. Question the servant. I only want a description of the lady."

"I can do that. I know Lucy well, sir."

"Will you go now and see Lucy?"

"Yes, sir." She rose.

After seeing her, mind to return here at once. I shall be im

patient."

She promised, and left the room.

face as she went out. I excused it.

There was a half-smile upon her

During her absence I opened the parcel of newspapers I received from time to time from London. But the effort to occupy my mind with their contents was idle. Like the needle to the star, my mind. faithfully vibrated to its cardinal thought.

The grounds were brilliant with sunshine and flowers and the hues of ripening fruit. The air was busy with the chant of bees. Winged insects flashed like diamond-drops in their nimble flight; and the morning breeze brought to my senses the refreshing sweetness of lilacs and violets from which the sun had not yet drunk their chaplets

of dew.

But for the dream that had been the harbinger of the form, I think that busy sparkling morning would have subdued, if it did not erase, the recollection from my mind. Superstition and sunlight are no friends; and it taxed memory and fancy to associate with those brilliant lights and dancing shadows, the spectral landscape, the wan moonshine, the tall and stirless shadows of the night that was gone. Some time elapsed before Mrs. Williams returned. At length her footsteps sounded in the hall. She knocked and entered. "Have you seen the servant?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes, sir."

"Did she describe Mrs. Fraser ?"

"There was no need, sir. Whilst I was talking at the gate the lady came out to pick a flower."

"What is she like?"

"She is about my height. Her eyes are black. She has a pretty face, but very mournful. She didn't stay above a minute or two; and perhaps she was just then a little troubled. But she did look as though she cried a good deal on the quiet, or went about with a trouble she wouldn't confess. She has little white hands, and is a good figure. Her hair is straw-colour, which makes her face peculiar, and not easy forgot. Her black eyes shouldn't match it; and yet they do, somehow."

VOL. XXXIX.

C

pacing in the moonlight. She was very beautiful; but in the calm of her beauty there was something terrible. It frightened me. It has made me ill. Is this house haunted ?"

"Haunted, sir! I have never heard of ghosts in these parts. I've slept every night for three years in this house by myself, and never met with anything of the kind."

"You are lucky. I can only assure you I distinctly saw at the time I mentioned a female form draped in white, with yellow hair and black eyes, such as you might dream of, such as I did dream of." "Are you sure, sir, it was not a dream ?"

66

Quite sure," I replied impatiently, for what is more vexing than incredulity to a mind still teased with recollection? When I dream I usually awake to find myself in bed. If last night's experience was a dream I must have dreamed it in the fields yonder, for when I awoke, or rather when I had fled, my clothes were heavy with dew and my hair moist."

Mightn't you have gone for a stroll, sir, and on your return, having got to bed, dreamt you saw this thing?"

"Mrs. Williams, you are a sensible woman-do not vex me. I tell you I saw this person, or ghost or angel, or what the deuce else it was, as plainly as I see you. You have sense enough to judge from my appearance and excitement that there is something more in all this than a dream. You have lived here some time, pray have you ever heard of such a woman as I describe ?"

66

'Never, sir,” she rejoined with complacent emphasis.
"Think. I entreat you to think.

This is a mystery I must solve. If I were superstitious I might think it a ghost, but I don't believe in ghosts. You now are a practical woman, what is your opinion?"

"I am afraid I cannot help you, sir. You see there are very few people living about this place, and it could hardly be one of them. There's Mrs. Fraser, the widow, I told you of. It's true I haven't seen her, for I'm told she keeps as close to herself as one of the nuns at Cornpool. But I know her servant; and the girl, who's very respectable, declares her missis is the most quiet and respectable person in the world, a-bed every night at ten and up early at her gardening work, which is her chief amusement."

"You say you have never seen this lady?"

"No, sir. It's not perhaps for the want of her going out-she must do that sometimes, though her servant does all her shopping for her-it's my being shut up here. Before you came, sir, I hardly ever left the house."

"I should very much like to have this lady described to me. If it be she whom I saw, there will be an end of the mystery-(in one sense)," I mentally added. "If not, we must push our inquiries until we learn who this lady is I saw. Know the truth I will.”

"I don't see how I can quite get at Mrs. Fraser," began Mrs. Williams.

"You need not see her. Question the servant. I only want a description of the lady.”

"I can do that. I know Lucy well, sir."

"Will you go now and see Lucy?"

"Yes, sir." She rose.

"You will contrive some excuse for calling?" Easily, sir."

"After seeing her, mind to return here at once. I shall be impatient."

She promised, and left the room. There was a half-smile upon her face as she went out. I excused it.

During her absence I opened the parcel of newspapers I received from time to time from London. But the effort to occupy my mind with their contents was idle. Like the needle to the star, my mind. faithfully vibrated to its cardinal thought.

The grounds were brilliant with sunshine and flowers and the hues of ripening fruit. The air was busy with the chant of bees. Winged insects flashed like diamond-drops in their nimble flight; and the morning breeze brought to my senses the refreshing sweetness of lilacs and violets from which the sun had not yet drunk their chaplets of dew.

But for the dream that had been the harbinger of the form, I think that busy sparkling morning would have subdued, if it did not erase, the recollection from my mind. Superstition and sunlight are no friends; and it taxed memory and fancy to associate with those brilliant lights and dancing shadows, the spectral landscape, the wan moonshine, the tall and stirless shadows of the night that was gone. Some time elapsed before Mrs. Williams returned. At length her footsteps sounded in the hall. She knocked and entered. "Have you seen the servant?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes, sir.'

"Did she describe Mrs. Fraser ?"

"There was no need, sir. Whilst I was talking at the gate the lady came out to pick a flower."

"What is she like?"

"She is about my height. Her eyes are black. She has a pretty face, but very mournful. She didn't stay above a minute or two; and perhaps she was just then a little troubled. But she did look as though she cried a good deal on the quiet, or went about with a trouble she wouldn't confess. She has little white hands, and is a good figure. Her hair is straw-colour, which makes her face peculiar, and not easy forgot. Her black eyes shouldn't match it; and yet they do, somehow."

VOL. XXXIX.

C