So the time is ripening some, and searing others; and the saddening
and tender sunset hour has come; and it is evening with the kind old
north-country dame, who nursed pretty Laura Mildmay, who now stepping
into the room, smiles so gladly, and throws her arms round the old
woman's neck, and kisses her twice.
"Now, this is so lucky!" said Mrs. Jenner, "you have just come in time
to hear a story."
"Really! That's delightful."
"Na, na, od wite it! no story, ouer true for that, I sid it a wi my
aan eyen. But the barn here, would not like, at these hours, just
goin' to her bed, to hear tell of freets and boggarts."
"Ghosts? The very thing of all others I should most likely to hear
of."
"Well, dear," said Mrs. Jenner, "if you are not afraid, sit ye down
here, with us."
"She was just going to tell me all about her first engagement to
attend a dying old woman," says Mrs. Jenner, "and of the ghost she saw
there. Now, Mrs. Jolliffe, make your tea first, and then begin."
The good woman obeyed, and having prepared a cup of that companionable
nectar, she sipped a little, drew her brows slightly together to
collect her thoughts, and then looked up with a wondrous solemn face
to begin.
Good Mrs. Jenner, and the pretty girl, each gazed with eyes of solemn
expectation in the face of the old woman, who seemed to gather awe
from the recollections she was summoning.
The old room was a good scene for such a narrative, with the
oak-wainscoting, quaint, and clumsy furniture, the heavy beams that
crossed its ceiling, and the tall four-post bed, with dark curtains,
within which you might imagine what shadows you please.
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