wn stairs; and on this day I came upon a dusty, odd-shaped
little book, for which I at once felt an affection. I looked at it a
little. It seemed to be a journal, there were some stories of the
Indians, and next I saw some reminiscences of the town of Boston,
where, among other things, the author was told the marvellous story of
one Mistress Honor Warburton, who was cursed, and doomed to live in
this world forever. This was startling. I at once thought of Madam,
and was reading on further to know the rest of the story, when some
one called me, and I foolishly did not dare to carry my book with me.
I was afraid I should not find it if I left it in sight; I saw an
opening near me at the edge of the floor by the eaves, and I carefully
laid my treasure inside. But, alas! I was not to be sure of its safe
hiding-place in a way that I fancied, for the book fell down between
the boarding of the thick walls, and I heard it knock as it fell, and
knew by the sound that it must be out of reach. I grieved over this
loss for a long time; and I felt that it had been most unkindly taken
out of my hand. I wished heartily that I could know the rest of the
story; and I tried to summon courage to ask Madam, when we were by
ourselves, if she had heard of Honor Warburton, but something held me
back. There were two other events just at this time which made this
strange old friend of mine seem stranger than ever to me. I had a
dream one night, which I took for a vision and a reality at the time.
I thought I looked out of my window in the night, and there was bright
moonlight, and I could see the other gable plainly; and I looked in at
the windows of an unoccupied parlor which I never had seen open
before, under Lady Ferry's own rooms. The shutters were pushed back,
and there were candles burning; and I heard voices, and presently some
tinkling music, like that of a harpsichord I had once heard in a very
old house where I had been in England with my mother. I saw several
couples go through with a slow, stately dance; and, when they stopped
and seated themselves, I could hear their voices; but they spoke low,
these midnight guests. I watched until the door was opened which led
into the garden, and the company came out and stood for a few minutes
on the little lawn, making their adieus, bowing low, and behaving with
astonishing courtesy and elegance: finally the last good-nights were
said, and they went away. Lady Ferry stood under the pointed porc