Year: 1859

oplona6 which rarely or never shows it.
self in a young girl, especially if sht
has been reared carefully by mothers
hand.


might have stood in the passage all
night criticizing her, he'd she not enter.
ed it herself suddenly, (for her move.
ments were all as quick as flashes oi
light, and taking me SO by surprise
that am sure she would have seen me
staring in at her had she not, luckily fol
me, caught her foot in the mat as she
crossed the threshold. She stumbled
and would have fallen, but sprang te
her assistance and caught her, and fell
her heart beating quickly against my
arm. She painted with the sudden star
it had given her, but stood up in Sec
oud and just glancing at me as l stood
beside her in the dark passage, said
quietly, Thank you. Charles. might
have hurt myself very much if you had
not saved me. And by the way, wisl,
you would have that stupid thing taken
away. My uncle fell over it last night
and l suppose it will be my aunt's turn
next


She ran lightly up the stairs to bel
sleeping room. laughing to herself as
she went. She had mistaken me for the
waiter! But did not care, though ]
fancied there was some difference in our
height and air, since it had given me
the pleasure of hearing my own name.
and spoken by her lips. l declare /.
emnly, to this day. that when Mrs. Cath
cart (my wife calls me Charles, an odd
feeling comes over me, and l see the
hall Of the Spread Eagle, and Mrs. Ar.
mold running up the stairs, while stand
in state of maudlin admiration be.
low. So much for the power of associa'
! ton.


went to the opera that evening. l
usually spent my evenings there, or al
the theatre, because l had no acquain.
tances in the city, and it was dull sitting
in my room alone. They played the
Bohemian Girl" l remember, and the
tenor sung Ms. Arnold's song, "Ther
you'll remember me-" And the lights
and the music, and the crowd seemed
to pass away, and leave me listening tc
her again, touching the piano softly, and
half-singing, half-humming the words
as, if she trusted herself to utter them
aloud, they wou'd d surely bring tears with
them. thought of her constantly til
the opera was over, and the house empty
thought of her over my hot supper al
Very's, and thought of her as l wen
home along the deserted streets. Hook
ed up at her window to see the ligh
there, as entered the court yard. Il
was burning brightly enough, and en-
tered the house, and sat down in the
coffee room few moments with the
landlord, who was a great friend Of mine
in his way. l did not talk to him, mol
he to me-we were neither of us talking
men, and seldom had many words to
ing paper steadily, intent upon political
news and held mine upside down be.
fore me. and felt, with thrill of bashfuI
satisfaction, that | was no longer indif
ferent to the advice of Mr.. Weller, Sc.
nior--'Samivel ! Samivel beware of the
vidders = No; widow had changed
me in the twinkling of an eye and l was in
love. as hopelessly, as unreasonably, and
as foolishly as any sober man of thirty
could we'll be


| must now proceed to state that Mrs.
Arnold's room was on the second floor.
just above No. 40, and looking out upon
Grace Church street itself. To it she
went quietly on that eventful evening,
at the hour of ten, just at the time when
l was sitting in my box at the opera
thinking of her. Something made her
wakeful. She sat down at her toilet
table and talked awhile to the house
keeper, who had come up with clean
pillow-cases, and asked many questions
about the house and the family. How
they broached the topic, I do not know
but after time they began to think
and speak about that strange phenome-
non called spiritual rappings.' The
Cock Lane ghost was brought upon the
carpet, and various other stories told,
till Mrs. Arnold grew nervous, and
lsushingly declared she would hear no
more. Then the housekeeper bade her
good night, and she locked her door,
and began to prepare for bed.


The room was large, rather dark, and
full OF corners and recesses. The light
of tue two wax candles on the toilet
table served only to make these corners
visible in their shadowy gloom. The
bed was high, and hung about with
crimson curtains the furniture of the
room was dark, too; and the cushions
Of the chairs and the covers of the ta-
bles red also. 1t is color which needs
much light to set it off to advantage !;
it looked dismal enough to heriust then.
At one end of the room door led into
kind Of large closet, which was unfn.
ished. and looked out into the court
yard but this door opened into Mrs.
Arnold's room, and locked on that side.
Sometimes linen was kept there and
the housekeeper had evidently been
there that evening, for the key was in
the lock, and the door was little ajar.
Mrs. Arnold would have preferred it
locked, but she was too timid to cross
her room just then.


She undressed slowly, singing in a
low voice the song had heard her sing
that evening. AS she bent down to un-
lace her boot, she happened to cast her
eyes towards the closet, (she had vision
like an eagle and to her surprise and
terror. she saw it move distinctly-only
the lower part Of the door she had pres
ence Of mind enough not to start, and
the bed concealed the upper part, as she
was STOPPING. The legend Of that wo-
man who saw the great boot of . man