The latter looked straight down into the uncurtained windows of the lighted dining-room, where the young people were still at play. Above these windows, and directly opposite to mine, were those of Mrs. Legare's bedroom, now dimly lighted from the fire within. With this proximity of the family, I felt less lonely, closed my blinds, and returned to bed. Still I could not sleep. The fire on the hearth, beyond my bed's foot, flickered up and down, casting tall, spectral shadows, that danced upon the walls, or stretched their long arms over the ceiling. For hours I lay watching this phantasmagoria, until the fire died down, and the tall, dancing shadows sank into a mass of darkness, before sleep came to my wearied senses. But scarcely had I closed my eyes upon the natural world before a strange vision, or dream, if you prefer to call it so, passed before me. Methought I heard the click of a turning key; I opened my eyes, and saw the door slowly swing back upon its hinges, and a lady of dark, majestic beauty, dressed in deep mourning, and having a pale and care-worn face, enter the chamber! Slowly and silently she walked to and fro, her footfall waking no echo--her progress attended by no sound, save the slight rustle of her silken robe! I was magnetized to watch her, as with clasped hands and wide-open, mournful eyes, she walked in silent, measured steps up and down the room. At length she paused in the middle of the floor, fixed her eyes upon mine with a wild and mournful gaze, slowly raised one hand from the breast upon which both had been tightly clasped, and with her spectral finger extended downward, pointed to the spot beneath her feet, and then as slowly resumed her former attitude, and passed with measured steps from the room! I tried to speak to her, to question her, but failed to utter a sound. In an agony of distress I tried to call out, and in the effort to do so awoke! awoke to find that I had been dreaming. But, reader! the door that I had locked so carefully the night before, was standing wide open, as when the dark woman of my dream had passed through it! Day was dawning. I shivered, both from superstitious excitement, and from the cool draught of air blowing upon me from the open door. I drew the cover closely around me and listened; but no sounds except the undefined, low, pleasant murmur of awakening nature--the soft rustle of the pines in the up-springing morning breeze, the flutter of the night birds waking up in their branches, and the detonating echo of distant, louder noises were heard. I arose softly and opened the east window blinds, and then went back to bed to lie and watch the crimson light of morning kindling up the orient.