How glad they all were when the long November day was over, and they could shut out the ceaseless drip-dripping of the rain, the sweep of the dead leaves across the windows! The autumn had been mild, and the foliage had lasted longer than usual. Now it came tumbling down with every breath, with every drop of rain, choking up the paths, and filling the air with the mournfullest downpouring of yellow. On such a day no one came up the avenue, unless it was a draggled villager bound for the servants’ door, or the Rector, or the Doctor, neither of whom contributed much to the gratification of the house; and to look out upon the misty vista of the spectral trees, the damp rising from the ground and falling from the skies, both of which were about the same colour, for even a short November day is not cheerful to the spirits. It was a relief when the house began to be dotted with lamps, when the shutters were closed and the curtains drawn. Lady Curtis, for some time, had not cared to have the shutters of her favourite room closed till bed-time. She did not give any reason for this fancy, but Sir John had found fault with it, and she had yielded. “It was not safe,” he said, “to leave the lower windows open. Some one might get in and frighten the house, if no more.” Lady Curtis had not stood out. She watched the servant close them with again a lingering sigh. She had meant nothing by having them open. No, nothing. Only if such a thing might happen as that--any one--moved by some impulse of the heart, should suddenly come home--why, then there would be a little light visible from the very end of the avenue to encourage him. Nothing was more unlikely than that such a thing should happen. But still granting that the impossible did sometimes come when no one expected it, then there might be use in the light. But as nobody could explain this, or say anything in defence of so painful a notion, of course it was done away when Sir John objected. My Lady sat in the gilded chair, cushioned with satin, that stood by the fire, and took a last look of the dull twilight with the trees looming through it like ghosts, as the footman began to shut up. It had been a dreary day; it was more agreeable to turn to the clear light of the lamp within, the subdued glimmer of the satin hangings, the sparkle of the fire. The day was done at last.