The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1871-04-20

tain day, two weeks off.
81 had never been in Lincolnshire
before, and 1 cannot say 1 was very
favorably impressed at first 1t was a
dreary country, all fat ferns and dismal
morasses, with, stubby willow trees
growing in monotonous rows, and here
and there windmill, with its arms out
lined against the leaden sky, like some
grotesque monster beckoning to one
And it was long past sunset, when
finally arrived at Bolton Hall-an old
red brick mansion, many-gabled, and
overgrown with Auttering trails of ivy
90 It's lonesome place, miss said the
post-boy, who had driven me over from
Earsley, the nearest railway station. i
had sister as was at service here once
but nobody stays long at Bolton Hail.
" 1t was all nonsense for me to take
any notice of a servants idle chatter
but my mind was Just in the morbid
mood to be influenced by trihing things,
and somehow the post-boy's words made
me feel a little low-spirited. But the
next minute the doors opened, and
saw great, octagonally shaped hall
hung with dark crimson tapestry, and
lighted up by the shifting CLEANS of a
huge fire of cracking logs, for the eve-
ming was chilly, although we were at
the prime of midsummer; and the
sweetest old lady you ever saw, in black
satin robes and Valenciennes lace, with
curls as white as spun silver, and CON-
plexion like winter rose, came forward
to meet and welcome me.
"You are Miss Barbara Ryerson =
she said, cordially extending to me soft
white hand, sparkling with rich rings
/ am Lady Bolton; and here with a
smile, is your little pupil
"And in an instant, pretty child
with streaming cloud of golden hair
about her face, had run into my arms.
" Grandmamma piped the child, Il
know 1 shall like her! She is pretty
and soft-voiced, and she hasn't got green
spectacles like old Miss Mosier !
And l kissed the fresh, dimpled lips
again and again, for who could help
loving an innocent, frank little creature
like this?
1.-THE old lady smiled indulgently.
"Take Miss Ryerson to her room
Victorine,' she said, 'and help her re-
move her things, for tea will be served
| III llIU66n
Il fell in love with my room at once.
1t was large, low-ceiled apartment,
and walls tinted of delicate peach
bloom, and the floor covered with a
brown carpet whose pattern reminded
one of red and russell antumn leaves all
over it, and deep laticed windows hidden
with red moreen hangings. And when
we came down stairs again, little Victo-
rine hanging fondly to my hand, Lady
Bolton was awaiting us in great room
where the evening lamp cast circle of
soft light in one particular spot, and all
the rest lurked in mysterious shadow. /
could see a curious red glow at one end,
which 1 afterward made out to be the
low setting moon shining through a
great stained-glass window, and there
was the rustic of tapestried hangings in
distant corners whenever DOR was
opened or shut by the grey-headed but
Ter, or the brisk, pink-ribboned little
maid in waiting. 1t was all eerie
enough, and yet not unpleasant.
Lady Bolton talked to me, after we
had drunk our tea, about Victorine, who
sat with her sunshiny head in the old
lady's black satin lap, and her big blue
eyes fixed dreamily upon me ; about her
proficiency in this particular study, OF
her backwardness in that; and gave me
one or two hints concerning the child's
peculiar temperament and character
istics.
"I am very glad that you are young,
Miss Ryerson,' she said, with a smile.
There is healthy atmosphere about
youth that is especially needed, in a spot
like this, where d young child and an old
woman are thrown constantly together.
"Are you two the only members OF
the family! = l ventured to ask.
"We are all alone together, Victo-
rine and L. she answered, her white,
slender fingers straying thoughtfully
through the little things meshes of gold
en- hair.
"She is an orphan, thenY'
perhaps Lady Bolton did not hear
my question, for she Immediately began
to talk of something else, and had no
opportunity to repeat it.
"'You must be tired said the old
lady, presently, rousing herself from
something like reverie. You have
had long and wearisome journey to-
day, and l am selfshly forgetting all
but myself
And she rang the bell for lights, and
servant to conduct me to my room.
"Lady Bolton was right. 1 aoas very
weary so much so that, notwithstand-
ing my resolution to lie awake and
think over this auspicious beginning of
my new life, drifted away into sound
sleep almost the moment my head
touched the lavender-scented pillows.
81 do not know whether had been
dreaming one hour or three, when l
suddenly awoke, oppressed by the
strange, mesmeric consciousness of some
other presence in the room than my
own; and, to my surprise and terror,
the light from shaded lamp was falling
full on my face, and tall figure, with a
face as white as the whitest alabaster,
and arrayed in a sort of loose cashmere
gown, belted at the waist with blue silk
cord and tassels, stood close at my bed
side.
"What is the matter-what has hap
penedY' cried, sitting up in bed, and
wildly pushing the falling hair back
from my forehead, upon which chilly
dew of sudden terror had oozed out.
"Rise riseP huskily whispered my
strange visitant, for you are in mortal
dangerp ...
"What danger-wherer 1 gasped.
"Do you know what became of the
last governess who was here of the one
before her?' asked the stranger, with q
peculiar smile on her face.