heard from her; and the unexpected endearment
brought tears to Emily's eyes. She curtsied to Montoni, and was
retiring; 'But you do not know the way to your chamber,' said her aunt.
Montoni called the servant, who waited in the ante-room, and bade
him send Madame Montoni's woman, with whom, in a few minutes, Emily
withdrew.

'Do you know which is my room?' said she to Annette, as they crossed the
hall.

'Yes, I believe I do, ma'amselle; but this is such a strange rambling
place! I have been lost in it already: they call it the double chamber,
over the south rampart, and I went up this great stair-case to it. My
lady's room is at the other end of the castle.'

Emily ascended the marble staircase, and came to the corridor, as they
passed through which, Annette resumed her chat--'What a wild lonely
place this is, ma'am! I shall be quite frightened to live in it. How
often, and often have I wished myself in France again! I little thought,
when I came with my lady to see the world, that I should ever be shut up
in such a place as this, or I would never have left my own country!
This way, ma'amselle, down this turning. I can almost believe in giants
again, and such like, for this is just like one of their castles; and,
some night or other, I suppose I shall see fairies too, hopping about
in that great old hall, that looks more like a church, with its huge
pillars, than any thing else.'

'Yes,' said Emily, smiling, and glad to escape from more serious
thought, 'if we come to the corridor, about midnight, and look down into
the hall, we shall certainly see it illuminated with a thousand lamps,
and the fairies tripping in gay circles to the sound of delicious music;
for it is in such places as this, you know, that they come to hold
their revels. But I am afraid, Annette, you will not be able to pay the
necessary penance for such a sight: and, if once they hear your voice,
the whole scene will vanish in an instant.'

'O! if you will bear me company, ma'amselle, I will come to the
corridor, this very night, and I promise you I will hold my tongue; it
shall not be my fault if the show vanishes.--But do you think they will
come?'

'I cannot promise that with certainty, but I will venture to say, it
will not be your fault if the enchantment should vanish.'

'Well, ma'amselle, that is saying more than I expected of you: but I am
not so much afraid of fairies, as of ghosts, and they say there are a
plentiful many of them abou