COUSIN GEOFFREY'S CHAMBER.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 13, Issue 1047, 11 May 1869, Page 3

COUSIN GEOFFREY'S CHAMBER.

BY HON. MBS. H£N£T:l&iFFOM>. ' \

' j * . .Pabt.TL y :'.'_, -yy.

.' - (From the Christmas No. of :. ; '-__ohdpn Society.') On New Year's Eye the guests»Sßßenibled for the cpming-of-Bge ball tbat,hight, and to" stay over the next dayi-wheU a'tlnant^' supper was to take pla'pe. ThjprS' is no need to describe them j ,they v were pleab sisanfc, good-natured people/ finost fhf. them old friends and neighbour's. pf •thp.Pagonels; and, as I.had met . them,*' ye^ir after year, during my- holiday, -yisits at Ernscliff, they were all kind, in their -.nptice of me, and civil. in their regrets hearing that this was my last stay there before leaving England.. The only stranger, besides the Miss Morton whose coming had caused so much discussion, was Miss Barnett, the heiress, who came .with the.Lord Lieutenant's party -frqmjliascelles Acres. I could nofc help looking at her-with much interest, and I am afraid Tielt an uncharitable vexation at finding her to be a remarkably sweet-looking girl, very young, and simple, in_ appearance' and manner, and so unaffectedly delighted with the grand old castle, and; the wide, expanse of park through which they had driven, that I could almost, have accused ife*;*" "Spitefully, of. wishing* to -W;inr.H«gh'S heart by praising the home' which he loved so dearly. With' - my -cHildijh ..notipn of what an. heiress thh'st be-lTk'eJsWas'^_ier surprised tp ; s,e.e hgr dressed in. r a i! sober,;^lark*> ; coloured linsey,ahd i?pars.e : iifeaw of the plainj&sfc' kind all went io- dress aftei* 1 dmfciir, l^T^rd -Lady Laseelles telling Mfs^ Pag^nil 8 |h|l she had persuaded : " Isabella ib s"bnttg5 "bnttg her jewels, asa she; thought they really wei'e worth seeing ;"^n'd- accordingly she - entered the great where we were~ to vdati.ee blazing with? di&igonds, which gleamed from. thtfbOsom ot her white lace dress,' and' : shone^ltfce •stisrs ia her thick plaits of light brown hair. She blushedh little when "they' were admired by all who felt intimate enough to speak of them to her, and anxiously explained tbat Lady Laseelles. had made, her Wear them, as if she drea'ded .being'suppo.sed to have herself wished to. make. >ttoe display: and again I; felt unfeasdnikbly an-noyedj-^-angered" at thP "pretty- 'diffident manner which formed.such aliquant-con-trast to her gorgeous ornaments? and cruelly mortified when a glance at the mirror showed me my. tall figure in address of the simplest muslin (manulactOTid by my own fingers'under the superintendence of Mrs. Pagonel's maid), anil my dark hair with a simple wreath of holly laid across it. The consciousness tjjat my face was wreathed into a . paeiiliarly crabbed and unlovely, form warned mo to recover my temper, and try to acquire something less unlike the sweet-looks of the heiress ; and" l turned away fifcia. the mirror and endeavoured to. throw myself into the interest of the moment.. The ball began and went on. with great: spirit : I had plenty of partners, and should have enjoyed myself thoroughly, if it had not been that Hugh did. not once danco with me— a state of things ._ unprecedented at any of the Ernscliff festivities since I was seven years old." liast-year I fhould have taken him tottask for his neglect;'as-fear-lessly as if he had beentmy brdfche* { .-now I could only fret inwardly while I tried to assume an extra gaiety of manner -whenever he, was near me,, especially J__..Miss Barnett was bis partner. •...'.. ' , The result was tliat I was 'thoroughly tired before tbe end of the Overi||fg£ and heartily glad when p-Mard. sm Jiests' who were not staying at" Eri^sclid birder their carriages : and,' when the insisted that the ball should ujj ;With Sir Roger de Coverley/T stole!. away into a small room adjoining the drawipg-r-sjom, and al wayskjis^^asJhe^j^Sj^ ber,"— -ftetTl belUve, from ahy -glwstly jUktetJlation, but simply from the preference ofthe Pagonel ancestry 'fofe having something at hand, GamplikS, to which they " coukVput their lips when so disposed," It was fitted up as a little boudoir, and thero I found Beatrice alone, looking so blup and cold, thafc I exclaimed at tbe sight,— " What have you been' doing to yourself, Bee ? You look like a ghost." "Don't talk about ghosts !" she said, with a little shiver ; "lam so ashamed of myself,. Katie 1 I have a .regular fit of nerves upon me to-night— so unlike/me 1" " Are you not well, dear Bee P" ' "Quite; but it is so foolish! You know I can't dance long without getting a pain in my side, and it is the same with Margaret Ducie ; so we came in -here to rest, and then our partners -would come with us ; and somehow they beganasking about the family pictures in the hall,- and tbat led to talking about Cousin Geoffrey's room, and tbey made me tell tlie story." "And you frightened •' yourself P,' Oh ! Bee, what a - triumph ! I thought you were much too wise to car© for ghosts or goblins." ,- " That didn't frighten me ; but then Margaret told us their horrible Ducie ghost-story, aud Captain Laseelles capped it with something worse. You know I always dislike that sort of ghost talk, which seems to me .such, waste of time and trial of nerves for nothing; but I could not stop it, and none of them knew that I was' to sleep in that dreary, lonely room to-night." '-.•_ " And you shan't sleep there," I. cried ; "you shall have my room Bee, darling. I shan't mind sleepuig down-stairs in the least." .;■ - " No ; I'm not quite so selfish aVthat," sho said. " I shall be aU right dfbqn 1 get to bed and to sleep ; I can t thhlk,why Ihave such a silly fit: ifc is very unlike me, I flatter myself— very odd.". . "Not odd at all, my. dear, whdn you consider that you were up at five 'this morning dressing the supper : table, and bave been hard at work ever since^ 'Yiou may bave prodigious strength of .mind, but in body you are not a Hercules' ; and nerves belong to the body, don't they P" The dance was over, the guests departing ; and we had to emerge from our retrpat, At the door Hugh was standing, leaning against the wall, and looking gloomy enough, but gazing fixedly across tbe room. Fpllowinghis eyes, I saw, with a thrill of pain, that tbey were riveted on Miss Barnett, who was looking peculiarly soft and attractive as she stood listening * to Captain Laseelles, the light flashing from her splendid jewels. ; ; " Do you admire her, Hugh P'-'v;l*keard Beatrice whisper. .*-. ■-'>/?'■-'. " I admire her jewels," hd answered ; " but her hair is hardly . dark enough to set them off. Wouldn't they look well in black hair? I certainly do like diardoftds.'' "Most people do,"hissistersaid,smiling. "I wish. I thought that I should over be able to dress up my wife in such jewels as those," he- answered; '".'-■ •' Well," she glanced with her .idemure gravity atbis face : " you kuow-thecway, Hugh ; fain fc heart never won fair^l&dy/ "Ah! but the jewels must feS 'ot'iaj giving, or I shouldn't value them;a;rush, ' he said : and as he moved off '^p*f]|ahd n some lady to her carriage, T fe% my heart wonderfully lightened, and was ready, to respond cordially when Beatrice began to sing Miss Baruett's praises. It was soine time" before , the; various guests were shown to thej£ ipo^s.s;"! but as soon as they had disapgeard;in! their different direotibns I drew'BeatiifiW'iu^ s

the little closet; where I was to deep. Bhe ' -wiui -'looking white and Ov#Ped.r and though well aware that it was not easy to persuade her to relinquish a plan»I was determined that she should not pass the night in that dreary ropm downstairs. ! - •-' Beatrice," I began, trying to be very authoritative, " I am going to help you out. of your dress, and wrap you up in my dressing-gown, and then I shall carry my goods down-stairs and bring yours up. I am (juite determined to change places witl? you to-night." » you shall do nothing of the kind, Katie : lam quite ashamed of myself as it is, but ypu can't supppse I'm quite so selfish!" "Selfish P but really and truly I should enjoy the fun. You know I like an adventure, and here is the chance of one for me ; and lam not feeling in the least nervpus tp-nigbfc." " I wouldn't on any accpunt. Couldn't we both squeeze in here for this short part of a night P" And she glanced at the tiny bed which had been with difficulty wedged in from ■ wall to wall pf the little cell. I laughed at the idea, but was charmed tp see this sign of wavering ; and by a few more vehement words I carried my point, for indeed Beatrice was overtired and unhinged, and had not the strength to oppose me. In one thing, however, she was unpersuadeable : she insisted on helping me to carry down my garments, and on seeing me safely installed in my apartment. This. l allowed her to do, knowing that the savants were still about, and that therefore her night journey through the gloomy house would not be as eerie as it sounded. The door of Cousin Geoffrey's room .gave a dismal creak as it swung back on its rusty hinges, and the candle which each of us carried only made the great cavern of darkness look more impenetrable. Truly it was a dreary room, even apart from the memories of sin, and remorse, and lonely wretchedness which seemed to hang heavily about it. Like most rooms in Erns cliff Castle it was panelled with oak; the window recesses were of such depth as to form small rooms, testifying to the immense thickness ofthe walls, and were only half concealed by the scanty curtains, so fusty and ragged that I think they must have come down from the days of Ceusin Geoffrey himself. There was a dreary array of dilapidated chairs* broken tables, and odds and ends of furniture banished for their ugliness from the more civilized parts of thehouse, and a space had been cleared in the middle for the light stretcher— a reminiscence ofthe squire's campaigning days — for a hastily-arranged dressing-table and a sponging bath— tbe latter an essentially every-day, nineteenth-century affair, which was quite a cheering sight amidst so much dilapidation and decay. The housemaid had forgotten, or bad been afraid to visit the room since dark, and the logs on the hearth had smouldered themselves away. This was the first thing which struck Beatrice, and with a shiver she exclaimed — " Oh, dear, they have let the fire out ! how excessively dreary !" "Nevermind," I cried, "it is all en regie; much more gbosfcified than if it were warm and light, like any commonplace room. Now, Bee, make haste to bed. Here, handle all these things over your arm— good-night." "I can't bear to leave you," she said, lingering; but my spirit was now thoroujf|ly up to the adventure, and I would hot lfear of giving it up. I laughed at all Beatrice's demurs and scruples, told her that she would be a ghost herself if she stayed any longer shivering in the cold ; and finally dismissed her, saying, as I gave her a last kiss, and saw her wistful, ''^'WffilecHda.^^ dear, you needn't make yourself unhappy^-J^uknow I don't possess nerves — I never wasafKtidT of anything in my life." Foolish, boastful words, which I had often said before, but which I was never to say again !

Past 111.

As the last sound of Beatrice's receding footsteps died away, I did feel rather lonely and queer ; but rallying my spirits, and telling myself that it was "capital fun," as Hugh would havo said, I began bustling abbut and preparing for bed, without leaving myself time to get nervous. I was soon out bf my ball-dress, and Jn my warm dressing-gown and furling slippers, which felt very comfortable in that cold, cellar-like atmosphere. The unplaiting of my hair was a longer business, and I could not help falling into a reverie as I sate opposite the glass, and forgetting cold and fright and all things in speculating as to whether Hugh would, after all, repair the family fortunes by marrying Miss Barnett. With an ingenuity in self-torture which never, I think, exists in perfection except at seventeen, I Wlfc'a series of most gloomy castles in the air— saw Hugh married to the heiress; Beatrice settled far from ErnsclifF, and the dear old place closed against me for ever ; and then I indulged in a hearty fit of the, dismals over my own future, — in a strange country, and with parents who! were little more to me than a vague memory and a name. I sate mournfully gazing into the depths ofthe looking-glass, when I suddenly found that a pair of gloomy painted eyes, from the wall beind, were looking back at me with the earnest, solemn gaze which always lives in the fixed eyes of a picture. I hastily turned and looked at the portrait, which i-Lhad not noticed before, bufc ou which the rays of my • candle happened now to fall. It represented a young man, not uncouth to look upon, though there was a peering, near-sighted contraction about the eyes, and a sort of suppressed sneer on the mouth, which gave an unpleasant expression to the otherwise handsome features*. No doubt this was the wretched Geoffrey Pagonel : whose portrait but his would have been thus banished from the hall, . where all the others hung in honoured remembrance P The haunting eyes of the picture made me shiver. I coufcf hardly help gazing at it, fascinated, and, felt as-, if m . another moment the painted lips would begin to move, and the painted finger be raised to point out the buried treasure. Oh, it was very well to laugh and joke about the ghost in the cheerful rooms upstairs ; but it was very ■$!Ferent in this, gloomy, darkened chamber,; ;and with those spectral eyes glaring ff^t}^e i fTomt'h.ewßllß. A sensation as if ecua water were running down the back of ; n^-neck suddenly warned, methat I was j^tingoverooweringly nervous: there fyfkf nothing for it but to hurry, over my - preparations, and plunge into the safe har,bit)ur;pf jpay bed, where I could, draw the ddthes over eyes and ears, and try to 7, ; sleep - away, ; the haunted hour? till dayyXflight. ; ; With a sudden resolution J sprang * '/apii and in doing^o struck the candlestick .. with, my, elbow ;it fell with a crash to the •■'■-'■ -v ground,. the , -light being of course extin-v;l';^B-i^tt : wie fall, and. myself left iii total : J xlarkness! '_"'[ "'....- --'.:'■ ,;■ JThatwas a horrible moment ; and yet \ there was something ludicrous in the adventure which gave . me courage ; and I ;/;■ instantly remembered that the nre in the "f ] ; 's__tt had been burning cheerily a few mi- : "' :, i_^^ i :bi6lfoi i e^ai_ , ij In!i()reo7e1 n!i()reo7er f that a box of %';;Jtt^^^tc^>n:d; .afjiaijr : .of $gfeht©d

candles wero always to be found on tbe mantelpiece there. To finish undressing .hike dark,' teie-a-*e*e with that dreadful pippi^^as not to be thought of: and, .th6hsh.n6t Very sure of my bearings, I beg-afe grope my way in the direction whefclJkhelievedthedoorto be, stretchingMflfiny band before me in hopes of fiudinj the handle. Suddenly my foot caught, probably in a hole in the ragged QflfrpeV; I fell forward, and was saved by #ie wail, or rather the door, for it yielded as ijy&ft Against it, and as I stumbled forward'f ft |ard it close with a sharp click behind hie. I must be in the ball, pf course ; but why was it in such total darkness P Could that blazing fire have gone out entirely in so very short a timeP And even if it had, was there no glimmer from the staircase-window, which I knew had no shutters?— and why was there such a strange, close smell, as if there was hardly any fresh air in the place P I stood for a moment bewildered ; then I determined to grope my way along the wall, where I must come in time to the table, which stood only a few paces to the right of the doPr leading intp Cpusin Geoffrey's room. I groped on — on— on — till I was suddenly brought up by another wall, at right augles : turning the corner, I groped on there, and this time I was stopped by stumbling against what seemed to be a chest or box, about as high as my waist. I still felt my way on, and there seemed to be other chests, sacks, boxes. Oh! where, where was IP Was there any cupboard in the room, into which I had unwittingly strayed P No; I was sure that thero was none. Again and again I felt high and low for a door-han-dle; but the wooden walls were hopelessly smooth ; there was no trace of the door by which I had entered, 'though I felt sure that I must have groped more than once quite round my prison. Ifc appeared to be a small room ; long, but very narrow : raising my hand above my head, I could feel no roof. Bewildered, scared, I believe — for I really hardly know— that I began to scream, the conviction rushing suddenly over me that my light words had been awfully fulfilled— tbat I bad found the bidden room, the existence of which nobody now believed in ; perhaps too, to judge by the presence of these chests and sacks against the walls, I had found the missing treasure. My voice re-echoed drearily. Np help came; np sound, no stir was to be heard. Never — never can I remember without a shudder, the feeling of utter desolation which struck cold on my heart at that moment, the sense of being cut off from all human help ; alone, in the cruel, unfriendly darkness, I knew not where ! I think I could almost have gone mad; but fortunately the very feeling that my senses were leaving me gave me' strength to make one last. strong effort to regain composure. Firsfc, I heartily commended myself to tbe protection of God ; and then I was able to recollect that, after all, my situation was more ludicrous than terrible. It must be in some unknown recess in tbe thickness of the wall — probably the outer wall— and, of course, though it might be a work of time to discover the spring which I must have unwittingly pressed, it would be easy to effect my deliverance by removing a panel. Tbe housemaid would come to call me at eight or nine o'clock, and all I bad to do was tp reserve my vpice, instead of screaming it away, so that I might make her hear and understand when sbe should enter the room. With this resolve, I sank down on the ground where I was — somewhere in the middle ofthe little narrow eell — and stretching out my hand, I felt along one ofthe 6hests, if chests they were, to ascertain if it_wa_L, to be trusted as a support for^niy--^back. Oh, heaven ! what, wbat^ met" my hand P — what was hangingdown'the side of the chest P My cpjSrlmgers closed on other fingers; sti_f,"unyielding fingers; flesbless, bone ,y^"Something — I dared not think - -tfliat — something which bad probably been stretched along on the flat top of the chest — yielding to my frightened clutch, fell down close to me — almost over me, with a horrible rattle, which echoed drearily. Terror, sickening terror, overwhelmed me, and for the first time in my life I must bave become entirely insensible ; for I remember recovering by slow degrees the consciousness of where I was. When it all came back to me, my first impulse was to crouch up and draw my dress close round me, lest it should touch that horrible, nameless thing. And tben a fresh dread came over me. How long bad my swoon lasted? Was ifc not very likely tbat the housemaid had come and gone while I was insensible and incapable of making her hear P If so, might nofc days, nay, weeks elapse before any one entered the fatal room P There was something too fearful in the idea that they might be searching for me everywhere, wondering at my disappearance, while I should be starving, dying, suffering all tbe agonies of a lingering torture, close to tbem. I thought of the poor bride in the old ballad of the ' Mistletoe Bough ;' and the tears which I could nofc shed over my own situation began to flow freely at tbo recollection of a horror which was long over and past, if indeed it ever existed in real life. On, on, on crept the lingering hours, and I could not at last help feeling sure tbat my worst fears must be realized. Day must surely be come, though there was no day for me in my narrow tomb. It seemed as if the ball had happened ages ago ; as if I must have been many, many hours shut up here. The intense cold which I felt, the thirst which burned my throat, the sinking weakness in all my limbs, strengthened this conviction. Were these tbe first beginnings of the slow agouy which was to. end in death P The horror of this thought swept away all self-control, and I broke out Ijnto a frantic cry — " Will no one help me P — will no one hear me P Oh ! I can't— l can't die here ! ■^-die like this !" and I shrieked violently. Oh ! joy of joys ! I was answered. Yes, there wa9 a voice — a loud, strong voice, though it sounded strangely muffled, and yet not very far off. "What is itP What the deuce has happened P What is the matter P" " Oh ! is it Hugh ? I am here, Hugh — I — Katie — oh ! do let me out." , " Katie P Where on earth are youP Your voice seems to come out of the wall." " Yes, I am, I am in the wall : Ido believe ifc is the hiding hole, and oh ! I don't know what thero is here— such horrors ! Can't you take me out, Hugh P ' dear, dear Hugh." ' "Of course ; but how the deuce did you ever get in P" "From thafc dreadful room — Cousin Geoffrey's ropm. I was sleeping there instead of Bee." " Oh ! then I had better go round to that room." And his voice receded, -lea ving mo greatly bewildered as to his present whereabouts. Just as the dreadful sense of loneliness began to creep over me again, I heard the joyous sound of tramping feet and opening doors, — and then his dear, cheery voice, always welcome, — how welcome how ! — sounded from the opposite side and much more clearly. "Speak, Katie, I can't tell the least where you are." "Oh! here, here! Oh! you won't leave me again, Hugh ! I fell : I must : have touched a spring. Where am IP" " Hpw uncommonly queer ! My poor

Katie ! You are in the thickness of th< outer wall, I fancy. Well ! this is a funnj state of things !" In a minute, he said, in a calm seriou! voice, which went a long way towards quieting my nerves. "Kate, I must leave you for a few minutes. I might fumble here for evei before I touched the spring, as no doub you happened to do. The best way wil be to take out a panel, and for that ] must get Adams and his tools. Luckil. he bas been sleeping here, because of al the ball carpentry. I shan't be awa] long, but probably he is not up, so it maj take some minutes i ten perhaps." " Not up P What can the time he P' " Just half-past six by my watch." "Not six in tbe morning P Oh! ] thought I had been here for ages. J thought I must have missed the house maid when she came to call me. Hugl —you're not gone, but going." " But don't, don't !" I cried ; "if yoi are only away five minutes, I know it wil seem an hour, and I can't bear it — m can't indeed ;" and, ashamed as I was 6 my childishness, I could not prevent nrj voice from dying away in a burst of sobi and tears. Hugh's answer came back ii fond, caressing tones, such as I had neve: heard from him before : " My poor little darling Katie," he said " you have had a cruel shock. We sbal never forgive ourselves for what we havi exposed you to. But you must be rea sonable, dearest Katie, and trust me tha I won't be one minute longer than I cai help. I'm going now, my Katie — don' be afraid. You will be all right and safi in a very few minutes now." I heard his footsteps die away; bu before I had time to become ihoroughb nervous again I- heard other feet an< other voices gathering in the room, anc speaking to me in tones of pity and con sternation, but of amusement too, whiol did me great good ; for in my feelings o horror and dismay, I had lost sight of tin absurd side to my adventure. Beafcria was there, and I heard the squire's good tempered voice, and his wife's gentL tones : and then came back again th voice that I liked best of all, and soon ! was aware that Adams was busy at thi panel, and at last — oh, blessed moment I saw the light of their candles, and thi familiar figures in all sorts of quain deshabilles. I felt myself drawn oil through the narrow aperture and upheh by Hugh's strong supporting arms, and overwhelmed by tbe sudden sense of re lief and safety, I let my head fall help lessly upon his shoulder, and I remembe] no more. In a few moments I was conscioui again, and found myself laid on the bed Mrs. Pagonel and Beatrice attending oi me, while the squire and Hugh seemed t< be intent on examining the contents o the mysterious cell which I had s( strangely been the means of discovering I heard exclamations of wonder and satis faction, and then of dismay, — and thei Mrs. Pagonel interposed, and said that ] must at once be taken to some warmei and more cheerful room. The squin accordingly came forward to give me th< support of bis arm, but not before I hac seen a look of sick horror on his broad ruddy face, and beard him mutter t( Hugh, " Horrible ! Is it not well written ' Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saitl the Lord P' " , All that day I was thoroughly-^ap^et suffering from headache^.tp-su"6n a degrei that I could do nothißg'but lie still anc endure. Tpgtaf-ds evening, however, |] felljnt(ra~cleep sleep, from which I awok( r AsSnoA myself out of pain ; and drawing aside the bed curtains — I was in Mrs Pagonel's room — I was well pleased t< see Beatrice sitting by the fire presiding over a mpsfc tempting-lppking tea equi page. " Oh ! Katie, lam so sorry," were hei first words. " There is nothing to be sorry for, Bee it is all over, and I am quite well now,"; '. said, rising, and proceeding to twist up m_ hair and arrange my dress, and then seat ing myself in the arm-chair which she wai drawing close to the fire for me ; " but d< tell me ; have I really found the hiding hole ?" " Tbat you have," answered Beatrice handing me a cup of tea, which I enjoyec as never tea was enjoyed before ; " thi hiding hole, and the treasure as well Such hoards, Katie ! chests and sacks ful of coins, and all the jewels and plate :o which we have the lists among our familj papers, but which bave always been mis sing, you know. O Katie, how can w< thank you P This will put an end to papa'i anxieties, I do believe !" i " Thank heaven ! Oh ! that is worth al I went through. But, Bee, how cam< those treasures there, do you suppose I What can have become of the wretchec man P I can't tell you what horrible fan cies I had about him." "Are you sure they were fancies?' said Beatrice, very low ; then, aa I lookec questioningly at her, she said with; i shudder — "Yes, my poor dear Katie; he mus have really met with the fate which ypi were afraid of— how it happened, of cpurse no one can say— and after all, we may bi jumping to a wrong conclusion ; but j skeleton they have found there : surely i must be his — he must have starved iti death in the midst of all the wealth h had hoarded." "Yes, and sold his soul for! Poo wretched man !" I answered with i shiver : the whole subject was to me toi painful for discussion, and when Be< added that one could hardly pity such i wicked man, I could not echo her words the horror was only a vague, unreal-seem ing romance to her, seen through the mist of so many hundred years, but to me i was a frightful reality, — a thing of to day. I was not well enough to take part ii tbe tenants' supper ; but I came down inti the little " spirit chamber," and there th guests visited me, one or two at a time My last visitor was Hugh, who, as soon a he was released from his arduous task c proposing and responding to toasts, ani keeping order among his tenants, came t ask how I was. "You look dreadfully white, Katie, he said, sitting down near me ; " not a all the better for your night in Cousi Geoffrey's room ! How lucky it was tha I could not sleep after the ball, and thougli at last I'd go out before li^ht, and try t get a shot at a wild duck ! ' " Oh ! tbat was how it was P" " Yes : from my hearing your voice s plain outside the house, I fancy ther must be a shaft somewhere leading to th outer air — but we'll turn the place regular ly out to-morrow. Poor Cousin Geoffrey he's done us a good turn after all, hasn' he? and those bones of his shall hay ' Christian burial at last." I could not talk about this part of th subject ; Hugh saw it, and went oi quickly, "And do you know that you've dis covered a perfect mine of wealth for us My father says a great portion must, go ii charity before he can feel sure tbat i won't bring a curse with it : but even sc there'll be enough bullion to pay off thi mortgage which has been worrying his lif out. • " I am so glad 1" "Ah! and what am IP I wonder

a you have the least idea liqw wretched I j have been this last few dayt#" I felt that, weak and shaken as I was, I | s could not answer without beginning to ory, 3 and in a moment Hugh went on : ' "To-morrow, Katie, will you let me *■ 7 show you all the quaint old plate and the J r jewels P Such jewels! Miss Barnett may ' t hide her diminished head for ever. But .1 one of them I must show you now — I can't - I wait till to-morrow." ; j He took my hand, and held over the - 1 third finger a diamond hoop, heavy and; ] f old-fashioned in setting, but the stones of f great size and brilliancy. " Katie, dearest, we liave been looking " out these jewels in the lists which we have; [ shall I tell you the name by which this is ■ [ described there P The "troth plight," the ! [ betrothal ring : It has been handed down • . as such evidently from one generation of j (■_ us Pagonels to another. Katie, don't you . and I belong naturally to each other P Won't you promise me not to go to IndiaP x } May I not put this ring upon your ■ r finger P" a ! 7. And so it was that Hugh was enabled to : * carry out his wish of decking his wife in : ' jewels surpassing the Barnett diamonds, : and this was what came of my terrible : I New Year's Eve in Cousin Geoffrey's : r Chamber. J. E. C. (