"Oh, Madame de Mellissie, if you only could!" "And forget that you were a governess. Well, child, I never disliked you; and there's the truth. It wont seem right, though, for you to take precedence of us all—as you will when you are Sir Harry's wife." "I never will; indeed I never will." She burst out laughing. At my being so simple-minded, she told Dr. Laken, who then came in. It was chilly that night; and when I got into my room at bedtime, I found a fire blazing in the grate—by Hill's orders, I was sure. Ah me, with all my natural propensity to be simple-minded, my earnest wish to remain so for ever, I did feel a glow of pride at being tacitly recognised as the future mistress of Chandos. Over this fire—a bright, beautiful fire, as befitted a dull house—I sat late, reading, musing, half dreaming. The clock struck twelve, and still I sat on. For half an hour, or so. It was so delightful to realize my happiness; and I was in no mood for sleep. But of course sleep had to be prepared for, and I took my feet from the fender, wondering what sort of a night it was. There had been indications of frost in the evening, and I drew the heavy window-curtains back to take a view outside. "No fear of seeing a ghost now," I too boastfully whispered. I thought I should have fainted; I nearly dropped on the floor with startled alarm. Not at a ghost: there was none to be seen; but at something that in that startling moment seemed to me far worse. Emerging from its progress up the avenue, at a snail's pace, as if it cared not to alarm sleepers with its echoes—advancing, as it seemed, upon me—came a great, black, dismal thing, savouring of the dead. A hearse. A hearse without its plumes, driven by a man in a long black cloak. For a moment I believed I saw a phantom. I rubbed my eyes, and looked, and rubbed again, doubting what spectral vision was obscuring them. But no, it was too real, too palpable. On it came, on and on; turned round, and halted before the entrance door. I sat down to hold my beating heart: sure never were enacted night alarms like those I had encountered at Chandos. And, while I sat, muffled sounds as of measured footsteps bearing a burden, smote upon my ear from the corridor. I listened till they had passed my door, and then silently drew it an inch open. Do not attribute it to an unjustifiable curiosity: I declare that I was impelled to it by fear. Strange though the assertion may seem, it is true; the real cause of all this did not occur to me. Had I been so absorbed in my own happiness as to forget all else?—or had I grown stupid? I know not—only that it was as I say.