Edith was engaged in examining a room so much more elegant than any she had seen before. Her eyes were soon attracted by a full-length portrait on the opposite side of the apartment. It was a lady in the bloom of youth, dressed in the costume of the second Charles. It was evidently an exquisite work of art. To Edith, the somewhat startling exposure of the bust, which the fashion of the period demanded, was redeemed by the chaste and nunlike expression of the face. Tender blue eyes were cast down on a wounded dove that she cherished in her bosom; and the long, dark eyelash shaded a pale and pensive cheek.
Edith was fascinated by this beautiful picture. Who was she? where did she live? what was her fate? were questions hovering on her lips, which she dared not ask of the stately lady on the couch; but, as she stood riveted before it, "O that I had such a friend!" passed through her mind; and, like inexperienced and enthusiastic youth, she thought how fondly she could have loved her, and, if it were necessary, have sacrificed her own life for hers.
Lady C—— observed her fixed attention.
"That is a portrait of the Lady Ursula," she said, "who built this house, and brought over from England the fruits and flowers of the garden. Alas! they are now much wasted and destroyed."
At this moment, the old negro appeared, to say that the dinner was served.
They passed into another low room, in the centre of which was a long oaken dining-table, the upper end raised two steps higher than the lower, and the whole was fixed to the floor. At this time, the upper end only was covered with a rich damask cloth, where the lady and her guests took their seats; the other half of the table extending bare beneath them.
"In this chair, and at this table, the Lady Ursula was wont to dine with her maidens and serving-men," said Lady C——, as she took her seat in a high-backed, richly-carved chair of oak; "and I have retained the custom, though my serving-men are much reduced;" and she glanced her eye on the trembling old negro.
Edith thought how dreary it must be to dine there in solitary state, with no one to speak to except the old negro, and she cast a pitying look around the apartment.
A beauffet was in one corner, well filled with massive plate, and the walls were adorned with pictures in needle-work, framed in dark ebony.
The picture opposite Edith was much faded and defaced, but it was meant to represent Abraham offering his son Isaac in sacrifice.