On the morning of the following day, Emily was somewhat late at breakfast; and she found Mrs. Hazleton down, and looking bright and beautiful as the morning. It was evident that she had not even the faintest recollection of what had occurred in the night--that it was a portion of her life apart, between which and waking existence there was no communication open. Emily determined to take no notice of her sleep-walking; and she was wise, for I have always found, that to be informed of their strange peculiarity leaves an awful and painful impression on the real somnambulists--a feeling of being unlike the rest of human beings, of having a sort of preternatural existence, over which their human reason can hold no control. They fear themselves--they fear their own acts--perhaps their own words, when the power is gone from that familiar mind, which is more or less the servant, if not the slave, of will, and when the whole mixed being, flesh, and mind, and spirit, is under the sole government of that darkest, least known, most mysterious personage of the three--the soul. Mrs. Hazleton scolded her jestingly for late rising, and asked if she was always such a lie-abed. Emily replied that she was not, but usually very matutinal in her habits. "But the truth is, dear Mrs. Hazleton," she added, "I did not sleep well last night." "Indeed," said her fair hostess, with a gay smile; "who were you thinking of to keep your young eyes open?" "Of you," answered Emily, simply; and Mrs. Hazleton asked no more questions; for, perhaps, she did not wish Emily to think of her too much. Immediately after breakfast the carriage was ordered for a long drive. "I will give you so large a dose of mountain air," said Mrs. Hazleton, "that it shall insure you a better night's rest than any narcotic could procure, Emily. We will go and visit Ellendon Castle, far in the wilds, some sixteen miles hence." Emily was well pleased with the prospect, and they set out together, both apparently equally prepared to enjoy every thing they met with. The drive was a long one in point of time, for not only were the carriages more cumbrous and heavy in those days, but the road continued ascending nearly the whole way. Sometimes, indeed, a short run down into a gentle valley released the horses from the continual tug on the collar, but it was very brief, and the ascent commenced almost immediately. Beautiful views over the scenery round presented themselves at every turn; and Emily, who had all the spirit of a painter in her heart, looked forth from the window enchanted.