her golden hair
and lighting up her beautiful face, still pale and worn from recent
sickness. It was as if an angel had come suddenly to her, bringing the
peace and rest she had never known since that awful night more than
forty years ago, and she felt all her olden horror rolling away, as she
watched Bessie going over the house, with Grey--; now up the crooked
stairs to the room under the roof where Grey used to sleep when a boy,
and where there were still the remains of a horse, and a boat which he
had sailed in the big iron kettle by the well--; now down the cellar
stairs to see the foundation of the big chimney which occupied the
center of the house, and in which the swallows built their nests; now
out to the well where the bucket hung, and then to the little bench
where Grey used to sit and kick the side of the house, while the
terror-stricken old man looked on trembling, lest the boards should give
way and show what was hidden there! It was there yet, dust and ashes
now, but still there, and Bessie sat down alone beside it, while Grey
shivered as his grandfather had done, and drew her away as quickly as
possible.

"Where does this lead to?" she asked, laying her hand upon the door
which was always closed.

"That was grandfather's room. No one goes in there," Grey said,
hurriedly, as he put his arm around her, and told her she had seen
enough, and must rest until after dinner.

He took her to the pleasant south room, where the early dinner was
served, with the tiny silver teaspoons, marked with the initials of
Hannah's mother, and the bits of old china, which modern fashion has
made so choice and rare now. And Bessie enjoyed it with the keen relish
of a returning appetite. She had improved rapidly within the last week,
and declared herself is well and strong as ever, when, after dinner was
over and the dishes cleared away she nestled down among the cushions of
the chintz-covered lounge.

"This is such a dear old place," she said, "that I should like to stay
here always. People say there is a skeleton in every house, but I am
sure there can be none here, everything seems so peaceful and quiet."

"Why did she make that remark, of all others?" Grey thought, as, with a
face whiter even than that of his Aunt Hannah, he sat down beside her,
and drawing her closely to him, laid her golden head upon his shoulder.

"Bessie," he said, and his voice shook a little, "I am going to tell you
something which perhaps I ough