illusions' or 'cataleptic' fits. She even grew to regard her former
visitations in the same way in which her husband pretended to view
them--as mere nervous phenomena. And as the fashionable season at
Williamsburg closed, and as the spring opened, Mrs. Dubarry expressed an
ardent desire to return to 'Shut-up Dubarry' for her confinement. 'The
heir of the manor should be born on the manor,' she said.

"Mr. Dubarry had great doubts about the safety of this measure, and
attempted to dissuade his wife from it; but she was firm in her purpose,
and so she carried it.

"It was early in the royal month of June that the young wife was taken
back to her country home. Shut-up Dubarry looked as little like a
'haunted house' as any house could look: waving woods, sparkling waters,
blossoming trees, blooming flowers, singing birds--all the richness,
beauty and splendor of summer turned it into a paradise. Besides, Mrs.
Dubarry brought down half a dozen young cousins of both sexes with her,
and they filled the house with youthful life. Under these circumstances,
the old servants were tempted back. And all went on very well until one
day one of the young girls suddenly spoke out at the full
breakfast-table, and asked:

"'Alicia, who is that strange, silent girl, in the red cloak, that is
always following you about?'

"Mrs. Dubarry grew deadly pale, sat down the cup that she had held in
her hand, but she did not attempt to speak.

"'Have I said anything wrong? I did not mean to do so. I am sure I beg
pardon, if I have,' faltered the young cousin, looking from the pale
face of Mrs. Dubarry to the troubled countenance of Mr. Dubarry.

"'I am very sorry if I have said anything wrong,' repeated the little
cousin, in dismay.

"'No, no, you have said nothing amiss; but it is a very painful subject;
let us drop it,' replied Mr. Dubarry rather inconsistently. And every
one around the table silently wondered what the matter could be.

"When breakfast was over, and the husband and wife found themselves
alone together, Mrs. Dubarry seized his arm, and whispered:

"'Oh, Philip! the spectre has not gone!'

"'My dearest Alicia! you have not fancied that you have seen it
lately?'

"'No, no; but _she_ has seen it! Kitty has seen it _always following
me_! She took it for a real girl, as I did at first!'

"What could Philip Dubarry say to all this? Only one thing:

"'My darling, I cannot have your nerves shaken in this manner. You had
n