nces, Paula recoiled, saying,

"It is too sad, too lonesome!" But the woman without heeding her,
hurried her on over the worm-eaten carpet and between the time-worn
chairs and heavy-browed cabinets, to the hall beyond.

"I have not been here, myself, for a year," said Mrs. Hamlin, glancing
fearfully up and down the dusky corridor. "It is not often I can brave
the memories of this spot." And she pointed with one hand towards the
darkened door at its end, whose spacious if not stately panels gave no
hint to the eye of the dread bar that crossed it like a line of doom
upon the outside, and then turning, let her eye fall with still heavier
significance upon the broad and imposing staircase that rose from the
centre of the hall to the duskier and more dismal regions above.

"A brave, old fashioned flight of steps is it not! But the scene of a
curse, my child." And unheeding Paula's shudder, she drew her up the
stairs.

"See," continued her panting guide as they reached a square platform
near the top, from which some half dozen or more steps branched up on
either side. "They do not build like this nowadays. But Colonel Japha
believed in nothing new, and thought more of his grand old hall and
staircase, than he did of all the rest of his house. He little dreamed
of what a scene it would be the witness. But come, it is getting late
and you must see her room."

It was near the top of the staircase and was fully as musty, faded and
dismal as the rest. Yet there was an air of expectancy about it, too,
that touched Paula deeply. From between the dingy hangings of the bed,
looked forth a pair of downy pillows, edged with yellowed lace, and
beneath them a neatly spread counterpane carefully turned back over
comfortable-looking blankets, as one sees in a bed that only awaits its
occupant; while on the ancient hearth, a pile of logs stood heaped and
ready for the kindling match.

"It is all waiting you see," said the old lady in a trembling voice,
"like everything else, just waiting."

There was an embroidery frame in one corner of the room, from which
looked a piece of faded and half completed work. The needle was hanging
from it by a thread, and a skein of green worsted hung over the top,
Paula glanced at it inquiringly.

"It is just as she left it! He never entered the room after she went and
I would never let it be touched. It is just the same with the piano
below. The last piece she played is still standing open on the ra