Cruel as the grave
little Cromartie is already fast asleep."
"Come, then; you will not have far to go. It is on this floor," said
Sybil, with a smile, as she led the way down the wide hall, past the
great staircase, and then turned to the right and went down a long
passage, until she came to a door, which she opened.
"Here is your bed-chamber," said Sybil, inviting her guest to enter a
large and richly furnished room; "and beyond this, and connected with
it, is another and a smaller apartment, which is properly the
dressing-room, but which I have had fitted up as a nursery for your
child and his nurse."
"Many thanks," replied Rosa Blondelle, as she followed her hostess into
the room, and glanced around with the natural curiosity we all feel in
entering a strange place.
The room was very spacious, and had many doors and windows. Its
furniture was all green, which would have seemed rather gloomy, but for
the bright wood fire on the hearth, that lighted up all the scene with
cheerfulness.
Sybil drew an easy-chair to the chimney corner, and invited her guest to
sit down.
But Rosa was too curious about her surroundings to yield herself
immediately to rest.
"What an interesting old place!" she said, walking about the chamber and
examining every thing.
Meanwhile the nurse-maid, more practical than her mistress, had found
the door of the adjoining nursery and passed into it to put her infant
charge to bed.
"Oh!" exclaimed Rosa, who had drawn aside one of the green moreen window
curtains and was looking out--"Oh! what a wild, beautiful place! But
these windows open right upon the grounds, and there are no outside
shutters! Is there no danger?"
"No danger whatever, my dear Mrs. Blondelle. These windows open at the
back of the house, upon the grounds, which run quite back to the foot of
the mountain. These grounds are _very_ private, being quite
inaccessible, except through the front grounds of the house," said
Sybil, soothingly.
"But oh!" whispered Mrs. Blondelle, nowise tranquilized by the answer of
her hostess--"Oh! what are those white things that I see standing among
the bushes at the foot of the mountain? They look like--tombstones!" she
added, with a shudder.
"They _are_ tombstones," replied Sybil in a low, grave voice; "that is
our family burial-ground, and all the Berners, for seven generations,
lie buried there."
"Oh, good gracious!" gasped Rosa Blondelle, dropping the curtain and
turning away.
"Don't be alarmed," smiled Sybil. "The place is much farther off than it
seems. And now, my dear Mrs. Blondelle, let me make you acquainted with
the bearings of this green bedroom, and then you will like it better.
You see it is in the right wing of the house, and that accounts for its
having windows on three sides, back, front, and end, and doors that
connect with the house and doors that lead to the grounds. _This_ door,"
she said, opening one on the left-hand side of the fireplace--"this door
leads up this little narrow staircase directly into my chamber, which
is immediately above this, as my dressing-room is immediately above your
nursery. So, my dear, if ever you should feel nervous or alarmed, all
you have to do is to open this little door, and run up these stairs and
knock loudly at the upper door, which is near the head of my bed. I
shall hear you, and fly to your assistance."
"Yes," laughed Rosa. "But suppose some robber were to get into these
windows, and be right upon me before I could run, what should I do
then?"
"Call for assistance, and Mr. Berners and myself will run down to your
rescue. But in order to make that practicable, you must always leave
that lower stair door unfastened; and you may do it with perfect safety,
as it leads nowhere but into my bedroom."
"I will remember always to leave it unfastened," replied Rosa.
"But, my dear, I assure you there is not the least shadow of a shade of
danger. Our faithful negroes are all around us on the outside, and our
faithful dumb guardians sleep on the mats in the large hall and the
smaller passages. However, if you still feel nervous, I will have one of
the maids sleep in your room, and one of the men sleep in the passage
outside," said Sybil.
"Oh, no, not for the world would I disturb the arrangements of the
family. I am not at all nervous _now_," said Rosa Blondelle.
"Then, dear, get ready for supper; for it has been ready for us for an
hour past, and I am sure you must need it. I will, with your permission,
go up to my own room by these stairs; and when I have changed my dress,
I will come down the same way and take you in to supper," said Sybil,
as, with a smile and a bow, she opened the door and slipped away up to
her own room.
Rosa Blondelle passed into the little adjoining nursery, to see after
her child.
The room, small as it was, had two windows, one west and one south, and
a little fireplace north. The east side was only broken by the door
that communicated with the bedroom. There were green curtains to the two
windows, green carpet on the floor, and green covers to the
rocking-chair and the child's chairs, which were the only ones in the
room. There was a cot-bed for the nurse and a crib for the child. A
well-supplied wash-stand completed the furniture. The child lay sleeping
soundly in his crib, and the nurse sat by him, occupying herself with
some white embroidery that she habitually carried in her pocket, to fill
up spare moments profitably.
"Crow is quite well, Janet?" inquired the young mother, approaching and
looking at her rosy boy.
"Yes, me leddy, and sleeping like an angel," answered the woman.
"Those are very comfortable quarters, Janet."
"Yes, me leddy, though the roaring of yon Black Torrent, as they ca' it,
gars me grew. I wonder does it always roar sae loud."
"Oh no, Janet. Mr. Berners says that it only sounds so when very much
swollen by the rains. And Mr. Berners should know."
"Aye, ma'am, and sae he suld! And a very fine gentleman is the laird!"
"He is not a laird, Janet! There are no lairds in America."
"And what will he be then, ma'am?"
"Simply a gentleman--Mr. Berners."
"It is a pity he is na a laird, ma'am, and a duke to the back of that! a
princely gentleman he is, me leddy."
"I quite agree with you, Janet. Well, leave your charge for a moment,
and come and arrange my hair for me. Unluckily I can not change my
dress, for my luggage was left behind at Blackville, and I don't suppose
it has arrived here yet," said Rosa Blondelle, as she returned to her
room attended by her maid. But there an agreeable surprise met her. She
found her trunks set in order, ready for her.
"I declare, there they are! And I suppose the servants who brought them,
finding the door wide open and no one in the room, just put them in here
and retired. Janet, open that trunk and get out my black velvet, and
point lace set. I must not wear anything very light and gay on this
first evening, after a fatiguing journey, when we all feel so tired as
to be fit for nothing but bed," said Rosa Blondelle, throwing herself
languidly into the green-covered easy-chair before the dressing-table.
"And, 'deed, me leddy, there's nae dress ye look sae weell in as that
bonny black velvet," said the maid.
Rosa knew this well, and for this reason, perhaps, selected the dress.
The maid quickly and skilfully arranged her mistress's hair in its
natural golden ringlets, that needed no ornament whatever. And when her
toilet was complete, Rosa Blondelle's fair beauty was even more
resplendent than usual, from its contrast with the rich blackness of her
dress.
"'A star upon the brow of night!'" quoted Sybil, as she entered the room
and stood for a moment in involuntary admiration. Then, with a smile,
she drew the arm of her guest within her own and led her off to the
supper-table, where they were joined by Mr. Berners.
It was a warm wainscotted little room, with crimson carpet and crimson
curtains, a good open fire of hickory wood, and a small, but luxuriously
spread supper-table.
Mr. Berners led their guest to her place at the board, and left his wife
to follow. These courtesies were no doubt due the visitor, yet they made
the wife's heart ache. She hated to miss the attentions her husband had
always hitherto bestowed on her alone; and she hated more to see them
lavished on another, and that other a beautiful, fascinating, and, as
she half suspected, most dangerous woman. It was in vain she said to
herself that these attentions were no more than any gentleman should
show to the invited visitor of his wife. She could not argue away her
heartache. She could not endure to see her husband touch the beauty's
hand. It drove her almost out of her self-possession to see their eyes
meet in that provoking mutual smile. Oh! how she repented ever having
invited this fatal beauty to her house! And yet she pitied the
friendless stranger too, and she struggled bravely against those
feelings of jealousy and hatred that were creeping into her heart. And,
in fact, from this time the whole inner life of Sybil Berners became one
hard struggle between her passions and her reason. And this struggle
soon manifested itself in a series of inconsistencies of conduct that
were perfectly incomprehensible to both Lyon Berners and Rosa Blondelle.
For instance, on this first night at home, while they sat at the
supper-table. Sybil was silent, abstracted, and depressed. Her
companions mentally ascribed her condition to fatigue; but Sybil then
scarcely knew what fatigue meant. After supper she aroused herself by an
effort, and offered to attend Mrs. Blondelle back again to that lady's
chamber; and when they got there, even lingered a little while, and very
kindly repeated her request that if Rosa should be frightened in the
night, she should run up the communicating stairs and rap at Sybil's
bedroom door for assistance. And then Sybil bade her visitor
good-night, and vanished up the stairs.
The travellers were all very tired, and so, notwithstanding Rosa's fears
and Sybil's jealousy, they were all soon fast asleep.
CHAPTER X.
THE JEALOUS BRIDE.
Yea, she was jealous, though she did not show it,
For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.--BYRON.
Rosa was the last to wake up in the morning. The nurse had already
dressed the child and taken him from the room; so Rosa rang her bell to
bring the truants back.
Janet came alone.
"Where is little Crow?" inquired Crow's mamma.
"In the breakfast-room, me leddy, on the laird's knee," answered the
girl.
"I tell you there are no lairds in America, Janet!" said the lady,
impatiently.
"Well, on the gentleman's knee, ma'am."
"Very well, now come help me to dress."
Janet hastened to obey, and in half an hour Rosa Blondelle issued from
her chamber, looking if possible even more beautiful than she had looked
on the previous evening; for she wore an elegant morning robe of white
cashmere, embroidered down the front and around the bodice, sleeves,
and skirt with a border of blue bells, and she had her splendid hair
dressed in the simple natural ringlets that were the most becoming to
her.
Janet walked before her mistress, to show the way. Far up the great
hall, she opened a door on the left-hand side, admitting the lady to a
delightful front room, whose front windows looked out upon the lake, the
valley, and the opposite range of mountains.
It was a golden October morning, and from a cloudless deep-blue sky the
sun shone down in dazzling splendor upon the valley, kindling up into a
conflagration of living light all the variegated foliage of the trees,
upon the mountain sides and the river's banks, where the glowing crimson