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Chapter I

It was the night before the wedding ! The next morning, the beautiful Laura Malcolm was to be married to Sir Aubrey Mannering, one of the richest baronets of the day. It was what is called "a great match." Everything was ready, and the bustle attending upon aU the necessary preparations for so grand an event, having at length subsided, the inmates of Camerford House might be supposed to have betaken themselves to repose. i; VOL. I. DISPLAY. The evidence of the great labour of thc preceding day justified such a supposition, for the magnificent haU and staircase were already ornamented with a profusion of wreaths of choice evergreens, to which, flowers, freshly gathered, were to be added early in the morning. Mr. Malcolm, father of the bride elect, having resolved that nothing should be wanting to give eclat to a marriage he had long had so much at heart, had given orders for a sumptuous fete, which was to begin immediately upon the return of the bridal party from the parish church, where the solemn ceremony was to take place.

A grand breakfast within the house had long been announced, and it was said that the hospitality of Mr! Malcolm was to be ex tended next day, not only to aU the most distinguished residents of his own county, DISPLAY. but to tbose of the two neighbouring ones, so that there appeared httle danger of his handsome and spacious rooms not being well filled. In addition to this, the beautiful pleasure grounds were to be thrown open to the tenantry and their friends, and rows of marquees, and an endless profusion of coloured lamps, and places for fireworks, proclaimed that the rejoicings were intended to be on an unusual scale of grandeur. Mr. Malcolm, always magnificent, had on this occasion outdone himself. He was deter ■*mined that his daughter should not, as he confidentially expressed it to Mr. Winthrop, his agent, "be married up in a corner."

So everything was splendid, and many a heart beat high with anticipations of de light. A sir in the country is of tenfold more B DISPLAY consequence than a fete in town ; and Mr. Malcolm, having undergone all the usual fatigue and annoyance inseparable upon being the giver of so grand a party, was not sorry to be at length left for a few hours alone. He had watched, with an anxiety somewhat at variance with his usual stately manner, for the first symptoms of declining day, but no one would take the hint, although his repeated assurances of being " perfectly satisfied," and that " all was quite ready," might have shown to the busy throng around him, how ardently he desired their departure. Stdl no one would go. Every one was intent upon admiring his own handiwork ; and there was always some "last thing" to be done, which kept the house in a con tinual state of disturbance, and began to cause no inconsiderable irritation in the mind of its owner.

DISPLAY. At last his vexations came to an end — for vexations, like everything else, have an end, though irritable people pretend never to believe it. One by one, friends, servants, workmen, and attendants, aU disappeared, and Camerford House was left to its repose. This repose, however, was not, as has been before stated, so complete as might have been imagined. It was long after midnight, when a light step might have been detected passing along the gaUery which led to the sleeping apartments in the west wing of the mansion. It paused be fore the door at the end — some one entered the room, and the door was immediately closed, with as much precaution as though some fearful deed of darkness was about to be done within that chamber. It was, however, no midnight burglar with blackened face, who thus stealthily DISPLAY. intruded into the actual abode of youth and beauty ; for the figure that appeared was that of a very young girl, so young as to have only just passed the age of chddhood.

She paused immediately on entering the room, and threw a hasty glance around, as if to be quite sure of being alone. From the nervous timidity of her manner, it might have been thought that she stood upon forbidden ground ; but it was not the case. That little room, with its blue satin walls, was the dressing-room of her sister, Laura Malcolm, the bride-elect. But where, at that moment, was the beautiful Laura? She, who was to enact so important a part in the morrow's pageant, and the happiness or sorrow of whose whole life hung upon the few words she would have to utter within a stdl fewer number of hours from that instant, was wrapped in a DISPLAY. 7 reposi as calm and profound as might have been expected, were nothing about to occur to disturb the even tenour of her days. In the adjoining chamber, Laura Malcolm was fast asleep — but Genevieve, her young sister, watched — and thought.

As Genevieve perceived that her entrance had been perfectly unnoticed, her fears seemed to vanish. She advanced to the table occupying the centre of the room, and, setting down a small taper which she carried, she looked carefuUy round. Everywhere the bridal finery ready prepared, announced the coming ceremony. A beautUul lace dress was laid, apparently with great care, upon the sofa of blue damask, the veil, aud wreath of orange blossom and jessamine, were placed by its side, while on the dressing-table were jewel cases, and all the minor appendages of the DISPLAY. toilet, arranged with the most scrupulous nicety. Poor Genevieve ! it had been her work, and she had come to take a last look, and to see that everything was in the place which she had assigned to it. She went round the room. All was as she had left it, except the wreath of orange flowers.

It had faUen on one side. With a gesture of impatience she replaced it upon the Uttle gilt stand on which it had been hung. " How unlucky !" she exclaimed half aloud. " The bride's crown fallen ! but perhaps Laura has been trying it on. She said to-day it did not become her — that she hated a wreath. I wish she had not said so. It may bring some bad luck. And yet she looked so beautiful in it — her black hair shining through the white flowers — dear, dear Laura !" ■ DISPLAY. With a deep sigh the young girl turned her eyes to the closed door of the room where her sister slept, and for a moment seemed as if inclined to rush in and disturb a state of quietude in which her own spirit had no share. Her colour went and came. Her large eyes alternately flashed and filled with tears, as she strained and twisted her clasped hands in the violence of her emo tion.

She would have given the world to have had one last embrace — one last assurance from the sister she so passionately loved, that she would love her stdl — that this marriage should not separate their hearts ! The thought of such a possibdity was great agony. Genevieve cast wild looks round her. She felt as if she could not bear what was going to happen, and, starting from where she stood, her hand was in DISPLAY. an instant upon the lock of the door. Ere, however, she could turn it, her eye once more caught the gleam of the white dress in the candle-light, and the sudden recollec tion of the next day's coming ceremony fell upon her. Why should she seek to agitate her sister ? She who was on the morrow to be the idol of so many admiring eyes ! Genevieve could not be so selfish, and with a great effort she turned away from the door, and walked to the other side of the room.

As she passed a smaU table in a recess, some flowers half withered, which were lying upon it, met her eye. She recognised them as those which Laura had worn that day at dinner. A glove was on the ground near them, and, snatching it up, she kissed it with the most passionate fondness. Again and again she pressed every flower DISPLAY. to her lips, murmuring, as she did so, " Laura, dear, dear Laura !" — till at last she burst into the most violent paroxysm of tears, and sobbed as if her heart was breaking. It was a touching sight, that outpouring of genuine grief and affection from so young a heart ; but Genevieve, though young, was not childish, and thoughts and doubts had arisen in her mind which she had not dared to breathe to any ear, but which redoubled her sorrow. AU day she had been so occupied, so observed, that she could not cry — but now that she was alone, what bitter tears feU over those faded flowers : her shght and bending figure seemed actually unable to sustain its own weight, and for a long time she continued to sit upon the low seat on wliich she had at first thrown herself, leaning DISPLAY. her face upon her hands, while the tears poured over them.

All at once she suddenly started from her position. She raised herself in her chair, and seemed to listen attentively. There was a sound upon the deep stdlness of the house. At first it was indistinct, but soon a coming footstep could be heard. Nearer and nearer it came. Genevieve started to her feet. Her cheeks blanched with terror. Like many people, she was ashamed of her emotion — ashamed of what is most beauti ful in the human heart — affection and devotion to another. With a trembling hand, she gathered up the flowers which lay upon her lap, threw them on the table, and hastdy concealed the treasured glove within the folds of her dress. AU this time her eyes were fixed upon the door, towards which a heavy step now ra pidly advanced. DISPLAY. 13 It opened at last — that much dreaded door — but neither slowly nor stealthily, nor by smaU degrees — for it required the very ample space of a weU wide-opened door to admit a full view of the portly form which presented itself, and which was no other than that of Mrs. Leigh, the housekeeper of Camerford House, in her striped cotton gown and red shawl, her every-day dress.

If the countenance of Genevieve betrayed alarm, it was nothing compared to the scared expression which overspread the comely face of Mrs. Leigh, as the apparition of Genevieve, in her white dress, standing in the middle of the room, met her view. She started so violently, that the candle she held, feU from her hand, and the dim light wliich remained in the apartment, did not help to mitigate her fears. "Lor bless me !" she exclaimed, retreat- DISPLAY. ing a few paces, " who's there ? What are you doing? What business have you here?" " It's only me," said the sweet voice of Genevieve, and, raising her head — for, on the fall of the candlestick, she had bent to the floor to pick it up, and save the cotton gown of Mrs Leigh from being instantly in in a blaze, she looked her full in the face. " Only me," repeated the astonished woman, advancing a few steps.

" Why, sure, it's Miss Genevieve ! How ever could you go for to frighten a body so ? Sure enough, I thought it was a ghost. Who'd ever have dreamt of finding you out of your warm bed at this here time of night ? It's out of all reason, I declare." "Don't be angry, Sarah," said Gene vieve, soothingly, "or I shall call you Mrs. DISPLAY. Leigh, and never come to your store-room any more." " Yes you will, though, dear child," said Mrs. Leigh, smoothing down her apron, and composing her ruffled dignity ; " and lots of good things I shall have to give you now. I have heaps of fine things in the store-room now, in spite of Mr. FiUagreeni locking up his door till to-morrow, that we mayn't, as he says, ' copy his patterns in the country.' Set him up, indeed, with his Italian gib berish and spun sugar •!

He'U never beat me in coloured almonds, whde my name is Sarah Leigh. Such lovely blues and pinks I made to-day." " I am sure they are beautiful, Sarah," said Genevieve, who, at that moment, was thinking of anything but sugared almonds, and dreaded Mrs. Leigh's loquacity. " And you must be so very tired ! Why didn't you go to bed?" DISPLAY. " Me go to bed!" exclaimed Mrs. Leigh, drawing herself up with marvellous dignity. " Me go to bed, Miss Genevieve, on such a night as this ! I trust I know my business too weU for that. I havn't been house keeper for five and thirty years for nothing ;" and the broad face of the good-humoured woman expanded with happy self-complacency, as she thought of the days gone by. " But indeed, Sarah, everything is ready, and so nice and so pretty," suggested Gene vieve, who had sunk into an arm chair.

" And if it is, Miss Genevieve, may I take the liberty of asking why you are here ? Now don't look so sad, my poor child," added the good housekeeper quickly, as she caught the hurried glance approaching des peration, which Genevieve, as if in answer, cast upon the finery around her. " Oh, Sarah !" she murmured gently, DISPLAY. 17 but her eyes fdled with tears, and she could not add another word. " Well, I dare say, of course we shall miss our young lady at first. Of course we shall. Such a one isn't to be seen every day. But, then," continued Mrs. Leigh, in her most cheerful tones, " every one must be married some day or other. And such a wedding, too ! Why, all the old maids and young ladies in the country wdl be dying of envy. And such a fine, grand gentleman as Sir Aubrey is, too ! WeU, I'm sure I shouldn't fret if my sister was making such a match !

Now do, Miss Genevieve, cheer up a bit, there's a darling ! Do just come here, and let me see how you would look in the orange flower wreath. We shall have to think of your wedding soon." " Oh ! Sarah !" cried Genevieve, turning scarlet. VOL. I. c DISPLAY. " Don't make aU that light" — and she moved fretfully away from the dressing table, upon which Mrs. Leigh had officiously lighted all the candles. " I only want to take one more look at the pearls," she replied. — " Bless my heart, if that isn't a necklace fit for a queen ; now do, Miss Genevieve, look at the diamond clasp ! and four rows of pearls too ! what a deal of money they must be worth ! and yet you wont look at them. WeU, its lucky Miss Laura had more sense, if I may make bold to speak my mind " — and with rather an indignant air, Mrs. Leigh closed the jewel-box with a jerk, and put it back in its place.

For a few minutes she was silent, and contented herself with examining every thing within her reach. With the help of a huge pair of spectacles upon her nose, every DISPLAY. intricacy of the beautiful patterns upon the lace was duly admired. Having turned over each fold, and settled it back again in its former position, she at length appeared satisfied with her inspection ; and, taking up her candlestick, exclaimed — " It's aU just the most lovely wedding dress I ever set my eyes upon. I'm glad I had a good look at it, for to-morrow, I suppose, I shall be in such a fluster, I shouldn't know lace from muslin. Well — I must be off now — I have my rounds to go and all the maids to caU — we shall have hard work enough yet, to get up all the flowers by ten o'clock. It must be after three, now — " And, diving down into her spacious pocket, she drew out her great silver watch — " No, I declare — it's only half-past two," C DISPLAY. she observed, with an air of infinite satis faction — then, fixing her eyes upon the pale face of Genevieve, she added, kindly — " Won't you go to bed, dear chdd? — you look so tired."

" Oh ! I could not sleep," said Genevieve, hurriedly. " You'll never be able to stand to-morrow," continued the good housekeeper — " and the breakfast, and the speeches, and the leave-takings — oh! it wiU be a busy day!" Genevieve burst into tears " Now, don't take on so, my poor darling chdd," said Mrs. Leigh, going up to her — " it brings bad luck to cry at a wedding." " Dear, dear Laura," sobbed Genevieve, convulsively — " perhaps I shall never see her again !" DISPLAY. " Nonsense ! she wiU be back directly," answered her kind-hearted comforter. " Oh ! do you think so ? Why do you think so ? How do you know ? " cried Genevieve, raising her head, and looking with her radiant eyes brim-full of tears, into the face of her companion. " I'm sure of it," was the encouraging reply — " sure and certain she'll never stay long from her old home."

" And I am sure," said Genevieve, wildly, " that she wiU never come again — I can't get it out of my head, and it is that that breaks my heart. Something bad is going to happen — I know it." " God bless me !" exclaimed Mrs. Leigh, struck by the vehemence of the young girl's manner — " What could be going to happen ? And how could you know ?" " I don't know — I feel it," said Gene- DISPLAY. vieve, with a shudder — " I have a presenti ment." "A what?" "A feeling," replied Genevieve, suddenly recollecting Mrs. Leigh did not understand French — "a feeling that comes before things — before a misfortune ; and, besides, there was such a bad omen — I found the bride's crown fallen down when I came in." " Well, what of that, Miss Genevieve ?" " Why, they say in France, if the bride's crown falls, she will never be a happy wife.

It is a bad omen — a sign. Do you believe in signs, Sarah ?" — and Genevieve, who, during her partial education in a convent in the south of France, had picked up an endless variety of legends and superstitious ideas, looked wistfully into the staring eyes of her astonished auditor. " Signs ! God help us — no — yes — that DISPLAY. is to say, of course, not ! / beUeve in any of their heathenish persuasions ! no, not I, Miss Genevieve. I say my prayers, and read my Bible, hke a proper Christian — every Sunday evening, a chapter !" And Mrs. Leigh put on a very devout air, although, in her inmost soul, she was anything but free from superstitious fancies, much worse than those to which the fright ened eyes of Genevieve pleaded guilty. As it was, Mrs. Leigh felt a nervous tremor in the ends of her fingers, and wished she had not heard of " the sign." — Just then, the great clock on the stairs struck three.

" What's that ?" she cried with a start, as the first stroke fell upon her ear — but the second re-assured her, and the candlestick resumed its erect position, for it was upon the point of being again precipitated upon the floor. DISPLAY. " Lor' bless us !" she exclaimed, as, with a great effort, she came back to her natural train of ideas and tone of voice — " if there isn't three o'clock — why the dayhght wdl be here in a minute. Now do, Miss Gene vieve, lie down and rest yourself, and don't be thinking of all the nonsense you heard from them there nuns in France. How should they know, poor benighted heathen things, shut up and fed upon black bread and vinegar ? Rye broth and carrots for their Sunday dinner. God help the poor creatures. How should they know better ? But you, Miss Genevieve — you, with all your masters and governesses, and your fine edication — English and French — though, to be sure," she added, as she thought of the nuns — " if it was aU English, it might have been better.

I can't think why people can't stick to their own country— thank DISPLAY. 25 Heaven, / never was out of England. If I had, I should have lost my hand at the pickles and preserves. No, thank good ness, I'm EngUsh, and I pray that I never may cross the sea, whUe my name's Sarah Leigh." " Sarah," said the sweet voice of Gene vieve, who, accustomed to the meanderings of the spirit of Mrs. Leigh, knew that the next time she pulled up, might be either in Kamschatka or Van Diemen's Land — " I cannot go to bed — I could not sleep in my own room, but I wiU lie down here on this sofa in the corner, if you wUl just settle the cushion, and give me that shawl." " There's a dear," cried Mrs. Leigh, in her natural way, and hastdy complying with the request — " Now do he down — I am so glad you will get a little rest — if it was only for an hour."

DISPLAY. " Thank you — that wdl do," said Gene vieve, settling herself — " I suppose we must be aU ready by nine — for the carriages are ordered at ten. Good night, Sarah — and thank you" — and Genevieve, longing to be alone, sank back on her cushions. " Good night — and God bless you, dear chdd. I must make haste and go my rounds.' And, strange to say, without another word, Mrs. Leigh left the room. DISPLAY.

Chapter II

There were few persons more deserving ot encomium than the good woman now wad dling down the broad staircase of Camer ford House, prepared to make her usual tour of inspection — deferred to that un wonted hour, by reason of the onerous duties the hurry of the preceding day had entaded upon her. Sarah Leigh was a good old-fashioned housekeeper, not the least above her busi ness. Mr. Malcolm was far too intelligent a man to have a sine lady for a servant ; DISPLAY. and if Mrs. Leigh's bonnet and shawl were sometimes sneered at by the flaunting de pendents of other great houses in the neighbourhood, as she made her way to her seat in the parish church on Sundays, Mr. Mal colm had the satisfaction of knowing that in her he possessed not only an active ser vant, but a true and conscientious friend.

The zeal with which she performed her duties was wonderful. Though nearly as broad as she was long, she was " here, there, and everywhere" in a minute. No thing escaped her vigilance. The phalanx of maids under her were drdled to perfection — the household was as regular as clock work — and if a particle of dust had once been discovered on any of the furniture, she would have deemed herself disgraced for ever. But it was on the subject of fire that she DISPLAY. 29 was most peculiarly sensitive. One would have thought that the whole of her savings were invested in the office in which Camer ford House was insured. Its being insured, however, by no means caused her to relax in her attention. Country houses that were insured had been burnt down, and that in a very mysterious way, too ; and Mrs. Leigh secretly believed the fault always lay with some one within the waUs.

But she blamed nobody, for she was not an iU-natured woman, and contented herself with nightly searching into every hole and corner, where by any accident a spark could have fallen. She could not, as she ex pressed it, " lay down in her bed," if this all-important duty had not been religiously fulfilled. Not even on this most fatiguing day, when since sunrise she had scarcely for _ DISPLAY. moment rested, would the worthy Mrs. Leigh relax in her vigilance. On quitting the room where she had left Genevieve, she instantly proceeded on her search, and having satisfied herself that the west wing was perfectly safe from the dangers of igni tion, she crossed the great hall, in order to carry on her inspection on the other side of the house. She had soon completed her survey of the upper rooms, and descending to the ground-floor, the inutdity of examining its spacious apartments — the doors of which all stood open — occurred to her, and she was preparing to depart, when, on turning to take a last look, all at once she espied something shining at the other end of the gallery.

It was a good way off, and she could not make it out. It looked like a long silver thread — perhaps it was the DISPLAY. moon ! But no — the moon did not shine that night. Perplexed and somewhat alarmed, as she fancied she saw the hght increase, and then disappear for a moment, she advanced rapidly, in the hope that what she saw arose neither from fire nor candle, but that some half-closed shutter let in the first glimmer of the coming day. As she approached the spot, however, this idea vanished. The light was still there. A bright distinct line of light shining on the oaken floor. She could even see the joinings of the wood, and the light came from beneath the library door — the small library, or study, as it was called. It was Mr. Malcolm's own room. In an agony of fear, the good woman was about to rash in, for the one idea of fire immediately suggested itseU to her mind.

Her hand almost touched the lock DISPLAY. of the door, when, pausing for an instant to collect herself, it struck her that aU was perfectly still. No rushing, no crackhng, and no smell of burning wood ! The house, therefore, could not be on fire. Mrs. Leigh drew a long breath, and with this happy conviction came the thought of the study and its inmate. It could not be Mr. Malcolm ; it was impossible. He never sat up. Regular in his habits almost to a fault, his movements could be always calculated to a nicety. Twelve o'clock was his hour for going to bed ; and whether the house was full or empty, no one could say they ever saw him enter his dressing-room a moment later. It could not, therefore, be Mr. Malcolm, whose vigils caused this mysterious line of light in the passage; neither was it the agent.

Mr. Winthrop had quitted the DISPLAY. house at nightfal; and he and Mr. Mal colm were the only probable occupants of the study. Mrs. Leigh began to be seriously anxious. She thought of knocking at the door ; but supposing she was told to " come in," and that she went in, and found — what ? She did not exactly know what she expected to find. She was growing alarmed — she, a lone woman, there at that hour ! She put her candle close to the door — looked up it and down it, but, alas ! could not see through it. Xo signs of violence upon the outside. The bright mahogany glistened in the can dlelight, so that the poor woman could see her face in it. Did she see how pale she looked ? No ! she saw nothing but that light beneath the door ; and while she kept her head turned to watch it, as she retreated upon tiptoe down the gaUery, it seemed to vol. I. D DISPLAY. grow longer and longer, and to reach her very feet.

With what haste she turned the corner of the hall. The staircase was near ; she got to the lower step, and sat down to breathe. A faint blue tint had come upon the evergreen wreaths since she had passed — Oh ! if the daylight would but come quite out ! " Whatever shaU I do ? " said the agitated Mrs. Leigh; "some one is shut up in that study — and as sure as I'm ahve it's not my master — Had I better caU up the men? But no — such a stir at this time of night ! — I know what I'll do. — I'll just step out on the terrace — the blinds mayn't be quite down — I'U soon see who has got into our house, and he shan't get out of it so easdy, I promise you." And, full of valiant intentions, Mrs. Leigh puUed herseU up by the bannisters, and hur- DISPLAY. ried away to a side-door opening upon the terrace. — With a trembling hand she unfast ened the bolts, and threw open the door.

The sudden draft extinguished the candle, and for a few moments she stood bewddered — she could scarcely see where she was. It is true, a faint blue streak showed the horizon, and began to steal in through the skylight, far above her head, but all the side of the house bordered by the terrace, was in deep shadow, and the prospect was decidedly uninviting. The wind, although a summer one, was rather high, and was moaning amongst the trees, and every now and then a stronger gust made the boughs of the taUer poplars shiver and sigh, with a sound that was not particularly pleasant, when one could not see their pretty sdver leaves playing and fluttering in the air. Mrs. Leigh, although D DISPLAY. far from repenting of her purpose, did not quite Uke the expedition. "Lor bless me!" she said, half aloud; " but its dreadful dark — just the night for ghosts ; but go I must.