and you come half-way to a square landing with an old straight-backed chair in each farther corner; and between them a large, round-topped window, with a cushioned seat, looking out on the garden and the village, the hills far inland, and the sunset beyond all.  Then you turn and go up a few more steps to the upper hall, where we used to stay a great deal.  There were more old chairs and a pair of remarkable sofas, on which we used to deposit the treasures collected in our wanderings.  The wide window which looks out on the lilacs and the sea was a favorite seat of ours.  Facing each other on either side of it are two old secretaries, and one of them we ascertained to be the hiding-place of secret drawers, in which may be found valuable records deposited by ourselves one rainy day when we first explored it.  We wrote, between us, a tragic “journal” on some yellow old letter-paper we found in the desk.  We put it in the most hidden drawer by itself, and flatter ourselves that it will be regarded with great interest some time or other.  Of one of the front rooms, “the best chamber,” we stood rather in dread.  It is very remarkable that there seem to be no ghost-stories connected with any part of the house, particularly this.  We are neither of us nervous; but there is certainly something dismal about the room.  The huge curtained bed and immense easy-chairs, windows, and everything were draped in some old-fashioned kind of white cloth which always seemed to be waving and moving about of itself.  The carpet was most singularly colored with dark reds and indescribable grays and browns, and the pattern, after a whole summer’s study, could never be followed with one’s eye.  The paper was captured in a French prize somewhere some time in the last century, and part of the figure was shaggy, and therein little spiders found habitation, and went visiting their acquaintances across the shiny places.  The color was an unearthly pink and a forbidding maroon, with dim white spots, which gave it the appearance of having moulded.  It made you low-spirited to look long in the mirror; and the great lounge one could not have cheerful associations with, after hearing that Miss Brandon herself did not like it, having seen so many of her relatives lie there dead.  There were fantastic china ornaments from Bible subjects on the mantel, and the only picture was one of the Maid of Orleans tied with an unnecessarily strong rope to a very stout stake.  The best parlor we also rarely used, because all the portraits which hung there had for some unaccountable reason taken a violent dislike to us, and followed us suspiciously with their eyes.  The furniture was stately and very uncomfortable, and there was something about the room which suggested an invisible funeral.