“You will find everything right here, child,” said Lady Maclaughlan; “and if anything should be wrong you must think it right.  I never suffer anything to be wrong here—­humph!” Becky, emboldened by despair, cast a look towards the recess; and in a faint voice ventured to inquire, “Is there no fear that Tom Jones or Gil Blas may be in that place behind the bed?”

“And if they should,” answered her hostess in her most appalling tone, “what is that to you?  Are you a mouse, that you are afraid they will eat you?  Yes, I suppose you are.  You are perhaps the princess in the fairy tale, who was a woman by day and a mouse by night.  I believe you are bewitched!  So I wish your mouseship a good night.”  And she descended the creaking stair, singing,

“Mrs. Mouse, are you within?”

till even her stentorian voice was lost in distance.  Poor Becky’s heart died with the retreating sounds, and only revived to beat time with the worm in the wood.  Long and eerie was the night, as she gave herself up to all the horrors of a superstitious mind—­ghosts, gray, black, and white, flitted around her couch; cats, half human, held her throat; the deathwatch ticked in her ears.  At length the light of morning shed its brightening influence on the dim opaque of her understanding; and when all things stood disclosed in light, she shut her eyes and oped her mouth in all the blissfulness of security.  The light of day was indeed favourable for displaying to advantage the beauties of Lochmarlie Castle, which owed more to nature than art.  It was beautifully situated on a smooth green bank, that rose somewhat abruptly from the lake, and commanded a view, which, if not extensive, was yet full of variety and grandeur.

Its venerable turrets reared themselves above the trees which seemed coeval with them; and the vast magnificence of its wide-spreading lawns and extensive forests seemed to appertain to some feudal prince’s lofty domain.  But in vain were creation’s charms spread before Lady Juliana’s eyes.  Woods and mountains and lakes and rivers were odious things; and her heart panted for dusty squares and suffocating drawing-rooms.

Something was said of departing by the sisters when the party met at breakfast; but this was immediately negatived in the most decided manner by their hostess.

“Since you have taken your own time to come, my dears, you must take mine to go.  Thursday was the day I invited you for, or at least wanted you for, so you must stay Thursday, and go away on Friday, and my blessing go with you—­humph!”