The door of the Sedan-Chair shut with a slight bang,—and almost I expected to see a couple of spectral “bearers” take it up with its lovely ghostly occupant, and carry it away altogether out of my drawing-room to some unknown region of faery. But no! The fire burned up bright and clear, and the flames of the pine logs danced merrily on the Chair as before, catching at the tarnished gold and gleaming on the faded crimson lining, but the Old-Fashioned Girl had gone, as completely as she has vanished from the social world of to-day. Remembering what she had said about the mysterious secret pocket behind one of the patterned fleur-de-lys, I advanced cautiously, put my hand through one of the window-holes, and felt about to see if I could find it. Yes!—there it was!—and while groping doubtfully in it, my fingers came in contact with a bit of crumpled paper. Tremblingly I drew it out,—it brought with it a scent of old rose-leaves and lavender,—and hurrying back to the hearth I knelt down and examined it by the glow of the fire. Something was written on it in faded ink, and after poring over it for a minute or two, I was able to make out the words:
“My own little Sweetheart, I love you for yourself alone, believe me, and I will always love you till—”
I looked up. I thought I heard the old chair creak! Had my great-great-grandmamma come back to catch me reading what was perhaps one of her love-letters? No—she was not there. But I fancy I know now why she haunts the Sedan-Chair, and as she is a relative of mine, I shall certainly expect her to stay with me at Christmas and help me to begin the New Year in a real “Old-Fashioned” way,—with home-contentment, love, and peace!
KING HENRY’S LOVE-SONG[3]
(“AH, MY SWEET SWEETING.”)
| Words by King Henry VIII. | Music by Marie Corelli. |
