Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1885-01-02
BEHIND THE TAPESTRY.

The first part of the strange story
which | am about to tell happened some
ten years ago.
Ten years ago l was in the first sorrow
of my widowhood. Twas chidleSS. too;
and when the grave closed over my hus-
band | thought that there was no place
left for me in the world.
l was rich. young; and my friends
and my own reflection in the glass told
me l was beautiful
OF course | had many acquaintance;
what rich-young widow has noto But
acquaintanceS and friends differ widely
did not care for the people who flat
tered and made much of me. but |
turned, even in the first days of my
trouble, to one friend.
She, too, was young and beautiful
We were school-fellows; we were en-
gagged at the same time; we were mar
ried in the same month of the same
year.
During the three years of my married
life we had seen little of each other, but
when my husband died, and Mary Cliff
ford wrote to me tenderly out OF her full
heart, l answered back her love.
She asked me to stay with her, and
went
How peaceful were these days spent
in her beautiful home! The house and
place were called Aspen's Vale. The
house was many centuries old. Its archi-
lecture was remarkable; its rooms
curious. 1t was a rambling old place,
and of course it had n ghost. 1t stood
in the midst of very lovely grounds,
overlooking wood and river. Altogether
it was one of the show-places in -
shire.
l stayed with the Clilfords for couple
of months. During this time the house
was quiet, visitors ew-they eSchcwed
company for my sake.
At the end of two months l left them,
comforted and helped. and with many
promises of q return by-and-by.
Circumstances, however. too varied
and too many TO mention prevented
that second visit taking place for a
couple of years. AT the end OF that
| time a great longing came over me to
see Mary Clifford again must write
to her, and propose a visit. l did so.
By return of post | got short but
! characteristic reply:
| DEAREST HONOR: Of course long to see
| you, but, unfortunately, the house is full.
/ I1dlSC iS II - II II SliilIltd IlOlh CtlluI W
My dear, don't want to refuse you do
! long TO see you. Will you sleep in the tapes
! try-room? for of course il is empty. ] dare not
| put anybody else there, but don't think you,
| Honor, will be afraid Of the ghost. If the
| tapestry-room will do, come, and Il thousand
| welcomes. ] can put up your maid. Your
| loving friend,
MARY CLIFFORD"
To this letter | made short answer:
. / do not believe in the ghost. The
tapestry will do beautifully. En-
| pect me tomorrow.
The next evening | arrived at Aspen's
Vale in time for dinner The tapestry
room looked charming. fell in love
with it on the spot, and vowed laugh
ingly that the ghost and | would make
| friends.
My maid, however, looked grave over
my testing remarks; it was plain that
! she believed in supernatural visitations.
Gayety of heart, however, was over
me. | could not resist the cheerful in
! tluence of my old friends company. |
felt happier than had done since my
/ husband death, and, after very de-
lightful evening, retired to my room,
feeling brave enough to encounter any
number of ghosts that might choose to
visit me.
The tapestry-room was quite away
from the rest of the house-it was at the
extreme end of a wing.
No other bedrooms were in this wing.
! There were a smoking-room, a morning
room, and little oriel chamber, which
Mrs. Clifford in her early married life
had curiously fitted up for herself, but
now seldom occupied. Neither did she
/ ia, +hn oh lint Cha aay,fnccaI
| that this little oriel chamber had an
eerie feel
The morning-room opposite, cheerful
and pretty enough, was unused. Its
furniture was antique. 1t belonged to
by-gone day, and its inhabitants were
dead. The smok;ng-room also was de-
serted; even the fumes of tobacco had
left it, the squire preferring more cen
] trail apartment in the modern part of
| the house.
Altogether, this wing of the old
house seemed dead Visitors only came
to it out of curiosity; they paid brief
visits, and preferred doing SO in broad
daylight.
1t must have been quite hundred
years since the tapestry-room in the far
end Of this wing had been slept in. Old
as the other rooms in the wing looked,
| the tapestrv-room bore quite the palm
for ancient appearance. There was not
an article of furniture in it, not chair,
not a table, which must not have seen
the light of centuries.
The furniture was all Of the blacklist
,ak, the bedstead the usual four poster
| on which our ancestors loved to stretch
| themselves. But the curious feature of
the room, that which gave it its name,
was the tapestry. Not an inch of the
| walls was to be seen; they were hung
completely with very ancient and very
faded tapestry. There was story
about this tapestry. One Dame Cliff
| ford, of long, long by-gone days. had
worked it, with the help of her maidens.
She had come to an untimely end on
the very day on which the great work
of her life had been completed.
It does not matter to this story what
became of the proud and fair dame,
but it was her ghost which was said to
haunt the wing, and the tapestry cham
| Der in particular. Warden, my maid,
as she helped me to undress, looked
quite pale with terror.
They do say, nam, as Dame Clare
| Clifford appears with her head tucked
under her arm. and threads from the
old tapestry hanging to her skeleton
fingers. She's dressed in gray silk,
that doesn't rustic never bit, though
It's so thick it might stand aIl alone,
they do say. It's awful lonesome for
you, madam, to sleep here alone, and
| III stay with you with pleasure if it
comes to that, though my nerves arn't
none of the strongest
| thanked Warden, however. and as
! sured her that | was not In the least
| afraid: and she. with welI-relieved
| face, left me alone. / heard her foot
steps echoing down the corridor-they
died away. was now out of reach of
| al human help. for N this distant
room, in this wing, no possible sounds
could reach any other inhabitants OF
Aspen's Vale.
/ think | have implied that / was
brave In my girIhood. in my short
married life, even in the sad depression
of my early wsdowhood. had never
known physical fear. nevertheless, when
the last Of Warden's footsteps echoed
! out and died, and that profound stills