For three successive nights the vision appeared, which so affected her spirits that she determined not to marry. But after some months, persuaded by her family to think no more of the dream which continually haunted her, she allowed the marriage to take place. All was a realization of the vision: the wedding, the journey to her new home,--every incident, however small, had been presented before her in the dream. As the bridal party approached the house of an old lady near Abingdon, who had made preparations for their entertainment, servants were hurrying to and fro in great excitement, and one was galloping off for a doctor, as the old lady had been suddenly seized with a violent illness. Even this was another picture in the ill-omened vision of the bride, who every day found something occurring to remind her of it, until in six months her own death made the last sad scene of her dream. And the funeral procession back to Oaklands, the persons officiating, the grave,--all proved a realization of her vision. After this her husband, a man of true Christian character, sought in foreign lands to disperse the gloom overshadowing his life. But whether on the summit of Mount Blanc or the lava-crusted Vesuvius; among the classic hills of Rome or the palaces of France; in the art-galleries of Italy or the regions of the Holy Land,--he carries ever in his heart the image of his fair bride and the quiet grave at Oaklands. CHAPTER VIII. Another charming residence, not far from Oaklands,[5] which attracted visitors from various quarters, was Buena Vista, where we passed many happy hours of childhood. [5] General Watts's place, Roanoke. This residence--large and handsome--was situated on an eminence overlooking pastures and sunny slopes, with forests and mountain views in the distance. The interior of the house accorded with the outside, every article being elegant and substantial. The owner,[6] a gentleman of polished manners, kind and generous disposition, a sincere Christian and zealous churchman, was honored and beloved by all who knew him. [6] George P. Tayloe, Esq. His daughters, a band of lovely young girls, presided over his house, dispensing its hospitality with grace and dignity. Their mother's death, which occurred when they were very young, had given them household cares which would have been considerable but for the assistance of Uncle Billy, the butler,--an all-important character presiding with imposing dignity over domestic affairs. His jet-black face was relieved by a head of gray hair with a small, round, bald centerpiece; and the expression of his face was calm and serene as he presided over the pantry, the table, and the tea-waiters.