"You are a novice in toilet fashions, my dear cousin. All women
consult the looking-glass with anxiety before they go into
company; but when they return home, the mirror has not the same
charm. The die has been cast--the party has been successful or
unsuccessful in the impression which she desired to make. But,
without going deeper into the mysteries of the dressing-table, I
will tell you that I myself, like many other honest folks, do not
like to see the blank, black front of a large mirror in a room
dimly lighted, and where the reflection of the candle seems
rather to lose itself in the deep obscurity of the glass than to
be reflected back again into the apartment, That space of inky
darkness seems to be a field for Fancy to play her revels in.
She may call up other features to meet us, instead of the
reflection of our own; or, as in the spells of Hallowe'en, which
we learned in childhood, some unknown form may be seen peeping
over our shoulder. In short, when I am in a ghost-seeing humour,
I make my handmaiden draw the green curtains over the mirror
before I go into the room, so that she may have the first shock
of the apparition, if there be any to be seen, But, to tell you
the truth, this dislike to look into a mirror in particular times
and places has, I believe, its original foundation in a story
which came to me by tradition from my grandmother, who was a
party concerned in the scene of which I will now tell you."

*

THE MIRROR.

CHAPTER I.