“Yes, honey, dat’s one ob de aunt-sistresses ob de ole family,” answered the gatekeeper. “The _what_? The aunt-sis—Oh! do you mean ancestress?” inquired the puzzled girl. “Yes, honey, aunt-sistress. She were a great lady in her time, but it was a long, long time ago, more ’an a hund’ed and fifty years ago, I reckon.” “Oh, yes! the costume of the lady shows the picture must be three hundred years old, and must have been brought from England in the earliest settlement of this country.” “Very likely, honey! Anyway, she were a great lady. Lady—less see now—what’s dat dey did call dat pictur’? Lady Em-Emmer-Emmerlint!” “‘Emolyn!’” exclaimed our girl, turning and looking full upon the speaker. “Yes, honey! dat was it! Emmerlint! _Lady_ Emmerlint, dey called her! And now I looks at dat pictur’ right good, oh, my gracious me alibe, honey!” cried the old man, staring at the picture and then staring at Em. “Why, what’s the matter _now_?” “De likeness, honey! De mos’ ’strorna’ry likeness!” “Oh!” exclaimed Em. suddenly, “I remember that you said that the portrait that you saw in the island palace was like me, too.” “So I did, honey. Bofe is like you and like each oder, dough I nebber would o’ noticed it if you hadn’t been by. Well, it is de mos’ ’strorna’ry fing as ebber I seed since I was a boy, and dat was a hund’ed and fifty years ago, more or less, honey.” At this moment John Palmer called old ’Sias to attend him through the other rooms. The whole party then left the long drawing-room, crossed the hall and went into the south wing, which was made up on this floor of family parlor, library, sitting-room, dining-room, and conservatory—all except the latter having paneled oak walls and polished oak floors, and being furnished with the heavy, highly ornate tables, chairs, escritoires, screens, and sofas of a past century. Having thrown open all the windows in this wing the party proceeded up the great staircase, followed by old ’Sias, who, on the landing, passed the others and unlocked the chamber doors and opened the windows. Here were long suites of bed-rooms and dressing-rooms, all with the darkly polished oak floors and the oak-paneled walls, and heavy, black walnut, four-post bedsteads, with lofty canopies; and broad walnut presses with innumerable drawers and cupboards; deep, high-backed, softly-cushioned, easy chairs; high, semi-circular, curtained toilet tables, curious, old-fashioned china ewers and basins, and many other things, interesting from their oddity or antiquity. But everything was covered with dust, veiled with cobwebs, and redolent of must and mice. Indeed, often, on opening a door, the intruder would be startled by the rapid scuttling away of rats or mice, and sometimes, near a chimney, by the flitting out of a bat. “_They_ are the ghosts that haunt the house, I reckon, ’Sias,” said John Palmer in a low voice to the old guide. ’Sias shook his solemn old head and said nothing.