there early, and then she will know. But I, what will become of me?--for
I am nothing here, I cannot go back to my own place."

A little moaning wind rose up suddenly in the middle of the dark night,
and carried a faint wail, like the voice of some one lost, to the windows
of the great house. It woke the children and Mary, who opened her eyes
quickly in the dark, wondering if perhaps now the vision might come to
her. But the vision had come when she could not see it, and now returned
no more.

X.

On the other side, however, visions which had nothing sacred in them
began to be heard of, and "Connie's ghost," as it was called in the
house, had various vulgar effects. A housemaid became hysterical, and
announced that she too had seen the lady, of whom she gave a description,
exaggerated from Connie's, which all the household were ready to swear
she had never heard. The lady, whom Connie had only seen passing, went to
Betsey's room in the middle of the night, and told her, in a hollow and
terrible voice, that she could not rest, opening a series of
communications by which it was evident all the secrets of the unseen
world would soon be disclosed. And following upon this, there came a sort
of panic in the house; noises were heard in various places, sounds of
footsteps pacing, and of a long robe sweeping about the passages; and
Lady Mary's costumes, and the head-dress which was so peculiar, which all
her friends had recognized in Connie's description, grew into something
portentous under the heavier hand of the foot-boy and the kitchen-maid.
Mrs. Prentiss, who had remained, as a special favor to the new people,
was deeply indignant and outraged by this treatment of her mistress. She
appealed to Mary with mingled anger and tears.

"I would have sent the hussy away at an hour's notice, if I had the power
in my hands," she cried, "but, Miss Mary, it's easily seen who is a real
lady and who is not. Mrs. Turner interferes herself in everything, though
she likes it to be supposed that she has a housekeeper."

"Dear Prentiss, you must not say Mrs. Turner is not a lady. She has far
more delicacy of feeling than many ladies," cried Mary.

"Yes, Miss Mary, dear, I allow that she is very nice to you; but who
could help that? and to hear my lady's name--that might have her faults,
but who was far above anything of the sort--in every mouth, and her
costume, that they don't know how to describe, and to think that _she_
woul