ve he thought at first I was the ghost of the former
inhabitant of this chamber, for he actually changed color and stepped
back.

"Pardon, mon pere!" said I, smiling at his amazement: "I found the door
open; and I hope you will excuse the curiosity that has led me to
intrude?"

"Une Anglaise!" said he, bowing; "a traveler, doubtless. You are the
first person besides myself that has entered these apartments, madame,
for many a long year, I assure you!"

After giving him an explanation of how I came to be there--an
explanation which he listened to with much kindness and placidity--I
added, that the appearance of the place, together with the little
information I had gathered from the host of the inn, had interested me
exceedingly. He looked grave as I spoke. I was about to question him
regarding the closed door, when he said: "I do not recommend you to
remain long here: the house is very damp; and as the windows are never
opened, the air is unwholesome." I do not know whether this was an
excuse to get rid of me; but the atmosphere was certainly far from
refreshing, and at all events I thought it right to accept the
intimation; so I accompanied him out, he locking the doors behind him.
As we walked along, he told me that he visited the house every day, or
nearly so; and that he had never thought of shutting the gate, since
nobody in the neighborhood would enter it on any account. This gave me
an opportunity of inquiring into the history of the place, which, if it
were not impertinent, I should be very glad to learn. He said he could
not tell it me then, having a sick parishioner to visit; but that if I
would come on the following day, at the same hour, he would satisfy my
curiosity. I need not say that I kept the appointment; and as I
approached the garden-gate, I saw him coming out.

"A walk along the road would be more agreeable than that melancholy
garden," he said; and, if I pleased, he would escort me part of the way
back. So we returned, and after a few desultory observations, I claimed
his promise.

"The house," he said, "has never been inhabited since I came to live in
this neighborhood, though that is now upward of forty years since. It
belonged to a family of the name of Beaugency, and the last members of
it who resided here were a father and daughter. Henriette de Beaugency
she was called: a beautiful creature, I have been informed, and the idol
of her father, whose affection she amply returned. They led a