“Am I mad or going mad? am I dreaming? Under a spell? Oh, _what_ is this? What is this closing around me like irresistible destiny? Why cannot I awake, arouse from this? I know I’m free; _why_ can’t I use my freedom? What a spell, what a mystery, what a horror! Oh! my Heavenly Father! If I could awake! I lose my free will! Oh, fate! fate! fate! thy hand is on me, and there is no resisting it!” Thus the pinions of her weak will fluttered in the iron grasp of a strong and implacable one. CHAPTER VIII. THE PHANTOM’S WARNING. “Let me gaze for a moment that e’er I die I may read thee, lady, a prophecy, That brow may beam in glory awhile, That cheek may bloom and that lip may smile, But clouds shall darken that brow of snow, And sorrow blight that bosom’s glow.” MISS L. DAVIDSON. Scarcely was the school dismissed the next evening, before the carriage of Mrs. Gardiner Green drew up before the door. The liveried footman of Mrs. Gardiner Green descended from behind and opened the door and let down the steps, and Mrs. Gardiner Green hereby alighted and entered the hall. Sophie received the pompous lady at the door; Mrs. Gardiner Green took the poor girl in her arms and kissed her, then _conducted_ rather than followed her into the parlor. They sat down. After a little preliminary conversation the lady began: “My dearest Miss Churchill, I have come at the suggestion of our mutual friend and reverend pastor, Mr. Withers, to offer you any aid or advice that the present crisis of your circumstances may demand. Now no blushing, my dear Miss Churchill; look upon me as a mother—as a sister,” said the lady, quickly correcting herself. “In short, Miss Churchill, I have come to propose that you be married from our house.” Now this was said so coolly, taking the premises so much as a matter of course, that Sophie, poor cowardly Sophie, had nothing at first to say. The lady went on with her proposals, entering into all the details of wedding dresses, bridesmaids, brides-cake, and a vast deal of matronly information and advice. At last Sophie could bear it no longer; she arose nervously from her seat and turned to the window, every limb trembling, and her voice faltering as she said— “I am not going to be married to Mr. Withers, Mrs. Green—I am very sorry everybody seems to think so—it is not true—will you do me the favor to contradict it wherever you may hear it?” And now she turned towards her. Mrs. Gardiner Green looked perfectly aghast; she evidently knew her part.