Connecticut western news., 1875-06-18
THE WOMAN IN WHITE.

there were gathered about the wide fre- place of 8 large New England kitchen, a happy family circle, consisting of 8 we'll to-do farmer, who was 8 magistrate known far and wide as Squire Percival- - his comedy wife, two fair, daughters, a neice, and last, but not least, son, just home from Yale for the holidays.
 The night without was seasonably cold, and brilliant with moonlight and starlight. The large farmhouse stood on the brow of 8 hill behind protecting line of tall pine trees, the only green in the wide landscape. The steep hillside and the valley beneath were heavily blanketed with snow.
 The early part of the evening had passed merrily with games, tests and songs. But for an hour or two the con versation had taken drift into the realms of the supernatural. One ghost had succeeded another, till, as the "witching time of night " approached, stinctively drew closer together, with thrills and shudders of strange spiritual dread, which is yet akin to the keenest pleasure-an awesome joy, an exquisite terror. The solemn signing of the winds among the trees, heard in the pauses of ghostly recitals, added it's wondrous effect to the theme.
 Just as young Percival had concluded a wild German legend, which he declared "splendid stuff for dreams" the out side door was heard to open suddenly. All looked around more or less fearfully, to see standing on the threshold. the slight form of fair young woman, clad in white, and looking strangely pure and cold, and luminous, like incarnated moonlight. .f4...t .alaB ..-s.ff s' With the glide of a spirit she came forward. Her feet were quite bare, and her arms were dropping wearily. Masses of fair hair fell over her shoulders but her eyes were dark, and fixed with a melancholy stare. Her lips were slight ly parted, and almost colorless. She came into the circle about the hearth, and there paused, standing utterly mo tionless- "a beautiful, appalling figure.
 For a moment all the startled group remained as silent as that strange visitor then one young girl caught her breath in hysterical scream, which was in. stantly answered by cry from the lips of s' the woman in white," into whose blank eyes rushed wild, keen light. She gazed about her in terror and be- wilderment, then glanced down upon herself, and sank covering upon the floor, covering her face with her hands, and giving way to childish paroxysms oi weeping. ...-t
 The farmers wife, woman of rare sense and presence of mind, at once di vined the truth. '
 "She is sleep-walker," she said. She must be half dead with the cold. Girls, bring some clothesl'
 Immediately all was hustle. The farmer and his son discreetly vanished from the scene and the kind mother, daughters and niece devoted themselves to their bewildered charge, who still | wept and sobbed under their kind min. istrations, but declared that she felt nc cold and no pain, though her delicate feet were actually bleeding from hel the crusted snow. s"
 After having been tenderly put tc bed, however, she became sufficiently composed to reply to the few questions which had been put to her. She said that she was Lucy Elliot, the niece o1 the village surgeon that she had lately been taken from school on account o1 nervousness, and sent to him for medi cal treatment, but that home-sickness and loneliness had made her worse. She had occasionally walked in her sleel before, but only about the house ard | grounds at home, and on summer moon light nights. "I think the moon be witches be-" she said, smiling through | her tears. That night she had. before going to bed, looked across the little valley to the pleasant house on the hill, watching the cheerful Christmas lights gleanning through the trees, and longed to be one of the happy party there, though she was stranger to all. f
 She had cried herself to sleep, she said, and that was all she knew of hel mysterious tramp over snow, and stones, and ice. Not memory, not thought could she recall till the moment when she found herself standing on that hearth in her night-dress, with so many won. dering eyes fixed upon her. .c....us
 "Oh, dearl what do you think o1 me? What can you think of me now ?'
 fNever mind what we think of you, poor child, :" said the good motherly Mrs Percival "we love you already so drink this nice hot elder wine and go tc sleep" s23@5a s'a''" 4 ''.t @sl+ '..',
 The poor child got little natural sleep, and in the morning appeared somewhat less ghostly than the appari tion of Christmas night. But she was still very pale, with playfully shy grieved look. She was suffering less from exposure than was expected, but more from the nervous shock of the night before and by the advice of he1 uncle, who had been summond, consent