The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1872-12-21

"N"'' VI ~ tshEiini nNa7Hiuc Hatoiisi Z. IiANtr.
At the end of four years my eldest brother,
poor Tom, died, and my parents pressed
me to leave the army and como home, the
necessity for @ profession in my case no
longer existing With some regret babe
adieu TO my former life and its associations;
but, after all, there is no great hardship in
being the future proprietor Of an entailed
estate like ours, and with tolerlblo resig-
nation | sent in my papers and renounced
the career of arms
had not been long in England before
an invitation to repeat my former Christ
mas visit to Bramshaw Hall reached me,
couched in such affectionate terms, and
so urgent, that could not find il in my
heart to decline. Mind, said my father,
jestingly, "that you don't leave your heart
behind you there unless indeed you have
left ii in India. Miss Blanche. am told
by those who are judges of such matters,
has turned out amazingly good-looking,"
laughed and answered with tone of
perfect conviction chat there was little
prospect Of any love passages between my
cousin, now sixteen years of age, and my
self. | found that my fathers account of
Blanche's appearance hardly did justice to
the reality. She had developed into a
very pretty girl, who at moments as when
she sang, which she did in sweet sad
voice, and with much musical taste and
skill, looked absolutely lovely. | took an
opportunity to ask Lady Treherne, half
jocularly, whether the ghost" was effect
ually exercised, and slecp-walking thing
of the past With perfect confidence my
aunt replied in the affirmative. Care and
change Of air and of scene, amusement
and study, had, she said, done wonders for
Blanche : health and whereas the extreme
delicacy of her constitution had formerly
caused much anxiety to her parents they
now considered her to be quite well and
quite strong, 1t was on her account. dear
girl, said Lady Treherne, that we quiet
old folks have run about the world as we
have done, travelling and pleasure-hunting
for you must know, Talbot, this is the first
Christmas We have spent at the Hall since
since you were with us.
\ curious coincidence. Il was wild
snowy weather again, and with few excep-
tions the same company that had form
erly met had reassembled under Sir Charles
hospitabe roof As before, | had arrived
on Christmas-eve aud as the dinner in
It's old style, and the dance and the songs
and music, and the games for the children,
succeeded precisely in the same fashion.
could have imagined that the last four
years were the baseless vision of dream
and that this was my FIRST and only Christ
mas at Bramshaw Hall One change there
certainly was. Blanche, no longer child,
was taken in to dinner by me, and she did
not avoid me in the pointed, almost petu-
liant manner in which she had turned from
me when she was but twelve years old /;
but | could make no way with her in con-
vcrsation, nor did she meet my eyes frank
ly, but allowed hers to rest anywhere but
on my face when addressed her, answer
ed my best things with monosyllables,
blushed when | spoke carelessly of our
former meeting, and altogether disconcert-
ed me, who was perhaps little vain of my
powers of pleasing. l soon gave her up as
hopeless, and directed my attention else
where.
Never in my life had | felt myself less
disposed for sleep than when late on the
night of Christmas-eve, sat before the
cracking wood fire in my bedroom--they
had given me the Tapestry Room, as be-
fore-and meditated on all that had oc
Cured, for good or i'll, since last | was the
tenant Of that ancient chamber. Four
years ago poor Tom, my elder brother, was
hale and strong, and | younger son, with
no prospects but such as my profession
might, in these--from military point of
view-hard times, open out before me.
Yes, four years ago; how strange was the
adventure of that other Christmas-eve. to
which my thoughts few back, no matter
on what subject | might be pondering
l could not go to bed. Somehow, do
what | would, remained wakeful and
watchful, with an undefnable impression
upon me that was wanted, that | had a
duty to perform, and that must not sleep.
listened intently for the slightest sound,
and even the moan of the wind without
seemed to me like human voice com
planning. Again and again did / throw
wood upon the fire, until my supply of fuel
waned to such an extent that II was plain
that ! must soon retire to rest, or sit up
ireless This win never do, said |:
fancy is making fool of me. I'll Just
slip out and take a glance at the scene of
my former adventure, and then come back
and 60 to sleep for the rest of the dark
hours"
SO saying took my candle and emerged
into the Gothic Gallery. Instinctively l
turned to the point where, four years since,
had espied the gleam of the light in
Blauche's hand, All was darkness now.
Here, too was the doorway into which |
had retired to allow the apparition, as |
had deemed it, to pass Smiling at the
recollection of my own irrational alarm,
went on, walking softly, to the corner of
the Oaken Gallery, so vivid is the I'M
aginaiion,H said |, ''that | almost expect
TO see the glimmer of the light, and the