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.