WYLDER'S HAJVD.
125
"In the kitchen, Master Stanley, " said she courtesying
again.
"Well, come up stairs to your mistress' room," said
Lake, mounting the stairs, with his hat in his hand, and
on tip-toe, like a man approaching a sick chamber.
There was something I think grim and spectral in this
ceremonious ascent to the empty chamber. Children had
once occupied that silent floor, for there was a little bal-
ustraded gate across the top of the staircase.
"I keep this closed," said old Tamar, " and forbid her
to cross it, lest she should disturb the mistress. Heaven
forgive me!"
"Very good," he whispered, and he peeped over the
banister, and then entered Rachel's silent room, darkened
with closed shutters, the white curtains and white coverlet
so like "the dark chamber of white death."
He had intended speaking to Tamar there, but changed
his mind, or rather could not make up his mind; and he
loitered silently, and stood with the curtain in his gloved
hand, looking upon the cold coverlet, as if Rachel lay dead
there.
"That will do," he said, awaking from his wandering
thought. "We'll go down now, Tamar."
And in the same stealthy way, walking lightly and slow-
ly, down the stairs they went, and Stanley entered the
kitchen.
"How do you do, Margery? You'll be glad to hear
your mistress is better. You must run down to the town,
though, and buy some jelly, and you are to bring her back
change of this."
And he placed half-a-crown in her hand.
"Pat on your bonnet and my old shawl, child; and
take the basket, and come back by the side door," croak-
ed old Tamar.