y,
young lady! the Jew," was the rejoinder. "'Tis plain ye know not who
rules. 'Tis all hollow yonder! all hollow, all hollow! to the very
glitter of the side-board, all false! all false! all hollow! Away with
such make-believe finery!" And here again the hollow voice rose a
little, and the dim grey eye glistened. "Ye mortgage the very oaks of
your ancestors--I saw the planting of them; and now 'tis all painting,
gilding, varnishing and veneering. Houses call ye them? Whited
sepulchres, young lady, whited sepulchres. Trust not all that seems to
glisten. Fair though it seems, 'tis but the product of disease--even as
is the pearl in your hair, young lady, that glitters in the mirror
yonder,--not more specious than is all,--ay, _all_ ye have seen
to-night."

As my strange visitor pronounced these words, I instinctively turned my
gaze to a large old-fashioned mirror that leaned from the wall of the
chamber. 'Twas but for a moment. But when I again turned my head, my
visitant was no longer there! I heard plainly, as I turned, the distinct
rustle of the silk, as if she had risen and was leaving the room. I
seemed distinctly to hear this, together with the quick, short, easy
footstep with which females of rank of that period were taught to glide
rather than to walk; this I seemed to hear, but of what appeared the
antique old lady I saw no more. The suddenness and strangeness of this
event for a moment sent the blood back to my heart. Could I have found
voice, I should, I think, have screamed, but that was, for a moment,
beyond my power. A few seconds recovered me. By a sort of impulse I
rushed to the door, outside which I now heard the footsteps of some of
the family, when, to my utter astonishment, I found it was--locked! I
now recollected that I myself locked it before sitting down.

Though somewhat ashamed to give utterance to what I really believed as
to this matter, the strange adventure of the night was made a subject of
conversation at the breakfast-table next morning. On the words leaving
my lips, I saw my host and hostess exchange looks with each other, and
soon found that the tale I had to tell was not received with the air
which generally meets such relations. I was not repelled by an angry or
ill-bred incredulity, or treated as one of diseased fancy, to whom
silence is indirectly recommended as the alternative of being laughed
at. In short, it was not attempted to be denied or concealed that I was
not the first w