"Lucy! How perfectly absurd!" said Amabel. "When she has been mourning all these years for Mr. Falconer, and has never seen any company." "Except Doctor Brown!" I added. "Worse and worse!" returned Amabel, laughing heartily. "Lucy, I believe you are fey yourself. You used not to think so much about matrimony." "Ah, well, time will show! Let us look at our necklaces!" Amabel's turned out to be a very rich thick gold chain supporting a fine pendant of amethyst set round with pearls. Mine was a chain of Turkey stones, supporting a locket enameled also with Turkey stones. It opened and had evidently once held a miniature. "She never gave you that!" almost screamed Mrs. Chloe, when I showed it to her. "Why, it was the gift of Mr. Philip Falconer, and used to have his picture in it. My poor sister! She is not long for this world. My dears!" sinking her voice to a whisper. "Did either of you hear a strange noise last night?" "I heard the bloodhounds baying as they do every moonlight night—that was all!" answered Amabel. "Oh! You think it was the bloodhounds? Well, I don't know. To my thinking, it sounded like something else—longer and more dreary." "Dear Aunt Chloe, don't give way to these dismal fancies!" said Amabel, kissing her pale cheek. "I do not believe in the wolf, one bit, if that is what you are thinking of. It is like Aunt Philippa's death-watch, at which she was so scared, and yet you see, she is not dead." "But she may he. The five months are not up nor the five years." "We may all be dead and gone before five years, but I don't believe the watch knew anything about it, more than the wolf, if there is such a creature, which is more than doubtful. Aunt Philippa is going to Berwick to make a visit, and she is pleased with the prospect, and thought she would give us some keepsakes,—that was all." Mrs. Chloe sighed and shook her head and would not be comforted. She was very superstitious, and her life was really embittered with these fancies. If she had been going to church to be married, and had seen a weasel, she would have turned back. An owl's cry, or the flutter of a bird against the window, would make her turn pale, and she was quite certain that she had brought some great misfortune on Amabel, because she had given her a hair-pin point foremost. Amabel, who had a way of speaking her mind freely without giving offence, remonstrated with her Aunt Chloe about giving way to needless fears. "You know, dear Aunt Chloe, that we are all in God's hands, and He can and will care for us as tenderly as a mother cares for her babe. Why should we not trust Him to do just what is best for us? And if we do, why should we let ourselves be terrified by signs and omens?" "I don't suppose it is right, but every one does it!" sighed Mrs. Chloe. "And we know, niece, that there are evil spirits, and such creatures allowed to go about, and why may they not be near us at any time?"