The girl dropped another courtesy and preceded her mistress down stairs. In going down the great upper hall, Miss Levison passed the door of the dark, narrow passage at right angles with the hall, and leading to the tower stairs, where she had seen the apparition of the night before. She shivered and hurried on. She paused a moment before the door leading to the ante-room of her father's bed-chamber, and listened to hear if he were stirring; but all within seemed as still as death. She went on and descended the stairs and reached the library-door, just as Kitty opened it and said: "Miss Levison, my lord," and retired to give place to the young lady. Miss Levison entered the library. Lord Arondelle, in his wedding dress, stood by the central book-table. As his costume was the regulation uniform of a gentleman's full dress, it needs no description here. Gentlemen array themselves much in the same style for a dinner or a ball, a wedding or a funeral--the only difference to mark the occasion being in the color of the gloves. Lord Arondelle advanced to meet his bride. "My love and queen! this meeting is a grace granted me indeed! How beautiful you are!" he exclaimed, taking both her hands and carrying them to his lips. "But you are shivering, sweet girl! You are cold!" he added anxiously, as he looked at her more attentively. "I have been shivering all the morning. I sat at my open window late last night and got a little chilled; but it is nothing," she answered, smiling. "You shall not do such suicidal things, when I have the charge of you, my little lady," he said, half jestingly, half seriously, as he led her to a sofa and seated her on it, taking his own seat by her side. "Come, now," he gayly continued, "was that indiscreet star-gazing which has resulted in a cold the little sin for which you wish me to give you absolution?" "No, my lord. My sin was an evil dream." "A dream!" "Ay, a dream." "But a dream cannot be a sin!" "Hear it, and then judge. But first--tell me--were you in the castle late last night?" she gravely inquired. He paused and gazed at her before he replied: "_I_ in the castle late last night? Why, most certainly not! Why ever should you ask me such a question, my love?" "Because if you were not in the castle last night--" "Well?" "I met your 'fetch,' as the country people would call it." "My--I beg your pardon." "Your 'fetch,' your double, your spectre, your spirit, whatever you may call it." "Whatever do you mean, Salome?" "Shall I tell you all about it?" "Of course--yes, do." Miss Levison began and related all the circumstances in detail of her night visit to her father's room, and her meeting with an appearance which she took to be that of her betrothed husband, but which, on being called by her, instantly vanished. Lord Arondelle mused for awhile. Miss Levison gazed on him in anxious suspense for a few minutes, and then inquired: "What do you think of it?"