“When breakfast was over, and the husband and wife found themselves alone together, Mrs. Dubarry seized his arm, and whispered:
“‘Oh, Philip! the spectre has not gone!’
“‘My dearest Alicia! you have not fancied that you have seen it lately?’
“‘No, no; but she has seen it! Kitty has seen it always following me! She took it for a real girl, as I did at first!’
“What could Philip Dubarry say to all this? Only one thing:
“‘My darling, I cannot have your nerves shaken in this manner. You had no such visitations as these while we stayed at Williamsburg. And so to Williamsburg we will return immediately. Tell your maid to pack up this afternoon, and we will set out to-morrow. No objections, Alicia! for I tell you we must go.’
“She saw that his resolution was fixed, and she made no opposition to it. She rang for her maid, and gave the necessary directions. And then, feeling very unwell, she sent down an excuse to her company, and retired to bed.
“At twelve o’clock that night, while the young people were enjoying themselves in some round game in the drawing-room, and Mr. Dubarry was doing all that he could to promote their entertainment, the whole party was startled by a terrific cry coming from Mrs. Dubarry’s chamber. All paused for a breathless instant, and then rushed tumultuously up the stairs. At the door of the bed-chamber, Mr. Dubarry turned around and waved them all back. Then he entered the chamber alone. All seemed quiet there then. The moonlight came flickering through the vine leaves on the outside of the open window, and fell fitfully upon the face and form of Alicia Dubarry, who was sitting up in bed, staring straight before her.
“Mr. Dubarry locked the door before he approached the bed.
“‘Alicia,’ he said, ‘my dear Alicia, what is the matter?’