There is a light around her brow,
A holiness in those dark eyes,
That show, though wandering earthward now,
Her spirit's home is in the skies.

--MOORE.


Pushing open the door, Dorcas Knight exclaimed:

"Here is a young lady, Miss Black, from Hurricane Hall, come to see
you, Miss Day."

And having made this announcement, the woman retired and shut the
door behind her.

And Capitola found herself in a large, dark, gloomy, wainscoted
room, whose tall, narrow windows afforded but little light, and
whose immense fireplace and blackened furniture seemed to belong to
a past century.

The only occupant of this somber apartment was a young girl, seated
in pensive thought beside the central table. She was clothed in deep
mourning, which only served to throw into fairer relief the beauty
of her pearly skin, golden hair and violet eyes.

The vision of her mourning robes and melancholy beauty so deeply
impressed Capitola that, almost for the first time in her life, she
hesitated from a feeling of diffidence, and said gently: