's fate. There is
a belief, however, that in a certain chamber of this mansion a female
form may sometimes be duskily discerned shrinking into the darkest
corner and muffling her face within an embroidered mantle. Supposing
the legend true, can this be other than the once proud Lady Eleanore?

* * * * *

Mine host and the old loyalist and I bestowed no little Warmth of
applause upon this narrative, in which we had all been deeply
interested; for the reader can scarcely conceive how unspeakably the
effect of such a tale is heightened when, as in the present case, we
may repose perfect confidence in the veracity of him who tells it. For
my own part, knowing how scrupulous is Mr. Tiffany to settle the
foundation of his facts, I could not have believed him one whit the
more faithfully had he professed himself an eyewitness of the doings
and sufferings of poor Lady Eleanore. Some sceptics, it is true, might
demand documentary evidence, or even require him to produce the
embroidered mantle, forgetting that--Heaven be praised!--it was
consumed to ashes.

But now the old loyalist, whose blood was warmed by the good cheer,
began to talk, in his turn, about the traditions of the Province
House, and hinted that he, if it were agreeable, might add a few
reminiscences to our legendary stock. Mr. Tiffany, having no cause to
dread a rival, immediately besought him to favor us with a specimen;
my own entreaties, of course, were urged to the same effect; and our
venerable guest, well pleased to find willing auditors, awaited only
the return of Mr. Thomas Waite, who had been summoned forth to provide
accommodations for several new arrivals. Perchance the public--but be
this as its own caprice and ours shall settle the matter--may read the
result in another tale of the Province House.

IV.

OLD ESTHER DUDLEY.

Our host having resumed the chair, he as well as Mr. Tiffany and
myself expressed much eagerness to be made acquainted with the story
to which the loyalist had alluded. That venerable man first of all saw
lit to moisten his throat with another glass of wine, and then,
turning his face toward our coal-fire, looked steadfastly for a few
moments into the depths of its cheerful glow. Finally he poured forth
a great fluency of speech. The generous liquid that he had imbibed,
while it warmed his age-chilled blood, likewise took off the chill
from his heart and mind, and gave him an energy to