There was something very gloomy and catafalcque-like in the aspect of the gigantic bed in which Lilian was to repose; its massive posts of dark oak and darker ebony were covered embossage, and the deep crimson curtains, with heavy fringes, fell in shadowy festoons, while four great plumes of feathers surmounted the corners in sepulchral grandeur. It stood upon a raised dais of three steps, and on the back, amid a wilderness of bassi-relievi, flowers, angels, satyrs, and ivy, appeared the coronet and gorgeous blazon of Clermistonlee. "I cannot sleep here, good woman," said Lilian shuddering; but the noise of the closing door, and the bolt jarring outside, was her only reply. She found herself alone. Her first impulse was to fasten her door within securely; her second to examine the chamber, by the light of the fire. In the deep little window stood a beautiful cabinet, on the upper part of which were a mirror and all the usual appurtenances for a lady's toilet, but of the most costly and elegant description, with all the perfumes, oils, essences and lotions then most in vogue. She turned from them with disgust to survey the walls, for the fear of secret entrances was impressed powerfully upon her mind by her knowledge of the number that existed in her own home; but, upon examination, she found nothing to increase her dread, save the cabinet, the doors of which were locked, and returned an unusually hollow sound when she touched them. Alternately a prey to fear and indignation, she walked about the little apartment, or sat by the fire weeping and praying, until sleep began to oppress her; and, unable longer to resist its effects, with an audible supplication to Heaven that the morrow might bring about her release, she threw herself (without undressing) on the bed, and almost immediately fell fast asleep. CHAPTER II. HOW CLERMISTONLEE PRESSED HIS SUIT. A strong dose of love is worse than one of ratafia; when once it gets into our heads it trips up our heels, and then good night to discretion. THE LYING VALET. From an uneasy slumber that had been disturbed by many a painful dream, Lilian started, awoke, and leaped from the bed. The embers of the night fire still smouldered on the hearth stone, and the rays of the red sun rising above a gorge in the Corstorphine hills, radiated through her grated window as through a focus. Pressing her hands upon her temples, she endeavoured to collect the scattered images that had haunted her sleep. She had dreamt of Walter. He seemed to be present in that very chamber, to stand by her gloomy bed, and smiled kindly and fondly as of old. He bent over to kiss her, but lo! his features turned to those of Lord Clermistonlee; the great tester bed with its plumage and canopy became a hearse; she screamed and awoke to find it was day.