She knew that he would return probably in a few minutes; and more and more she wondered what those minutes might contain, she partly wondered at her own anxiety. So she returned to the room and waited there for him. But he remained longer away than she expected. The tea-things were on the table deserted. The fire flickered its genial invitation in vain, and she, growing more uncomfortable and lonely, and perhaps a little high at being thus forsaken, went upstairs to pay old Dulcibella Crane a visit.
CHAPTER XVII.
MILDRED TARNLEY’S WARNING STORY.
As she reached the top of the stairs she called to the old servant, not, I think, caring to traverse the haunted flooring that intervened alone. She heard Dulcibella talking, and a moment after her old nurse appeared, and standing by her shoulder Mildred Tarnley.
“Oh, Mrs. Tarnley! I’m so glad to see you—you’ve been paying Dulcibella a visit. Pray, come back, and tell me some stories about this old house; you’ve been so long here, and know it so well, that you must have a great deal to tell.”
The old woman, with the unpleasant face, made a stiff courtesy.
“At your service, ma’am,” she said, ungraciously.
“That is if it don’t inconvenience you,” pleaded Alice, who was still a little afraid of her.
“’Tis as you please, ma’am,” said the old servant, with another dry courtesy.
“Well, I’m so glad you can come. Dulcibella, have we a little bit of fire? Oh, yes, I see—it looks so cheerful.”
So they entered the old-fashioned bedroom.