“It is indeed pretty, its ground a pure white, sprinkled here and there with small bouquets of violets. Just back of the dressing-table and near the window are pencil-marks, ‘Robert, Robert, Robert,’ in a girlish hand, and then a name which might have been ‘Annie,’ though neither of us could make it out distinctly. Evidently this room belonged to a maiden of that name, and while thinking about her and wondering who she was, I fell asleep. I do not believe in haunted houses, nor witches, nor ghosts, nor goblins, but last night I had the queerest dreams, in which that woman and child beneath the trees were strangely mingled with Dr. West and a young lady who came to me with such a pale, sad face, that I woke in a kind of nightmare, my first impression being that I was occupying some other room than mine. “This morning Mattie was present while I unpacked my trunk, and coming upon that package, I said, as unconcernedly as possible, ‘Oh, by the way, do you know such a person as Mrs. David West? I have a package for her, entrusted to me by a—a friend in Beechwood.’ “‘Mrs. David West?’ and Mattie seemed to be thinking as she examined the package, which felt like a small square box. ‘Mrs. David West? No, I know no such person; but then I’ve only lived here three months. There’s Bell Verner now coming in the gate. Maybe she will know, though they have only been here since last autumn. I’ll ask her, and you be in readiness to come down if she inquires for you, as she certainly will. You look sweet in your white wrapper, with the blue ribbon round your waist. I wish blue was becoming to me—Yes, yes, Dinah, I’m coming,’ and she fluttered down to the hall, where I heard a sound of _kissing_, accompanied with little cooing tones of endearment, such as Mattie has always been famous for; then a whisper, and then I shut the door, for I was sure they were talking of me. As a general thing I dread to meet grand people, I had enough of them at Newport: and so I hated to meet Miss Bell Verner; and after I was sent for I waited a little, half wishing myself away from Morrisville. “I found her a stylish, cold-looking girl, who, after taking me in, at a glance, from my head to my slippers, said rather abruptly: “‘Excuse me, Miss Freeman, but weren’t you at Newport last summer?’ “‘Yes,’ I answered, now scanning her, to discover, if possible, some trace of a person seen before. “‘I thought so,’ she continued. ‘We were at the Atlantic. We could not get in at the Ocean House, it was so full. Pardon me, but I am afraid I felt slightly ill-natured at your party—the Russells, I believe—because they took so many rooms as to shut us out entirely. If I remember rightly, there were nine of you, together with three servants, and you stayed two months. I used to see you on the beach, and thought your bathing-dress so pretty. We were a little jealous, too, at our house of Miss Freeman, who was styled the belle.’