she would show her to her chamber.

Then, taking a night lamp, she invited Capitola to come and
conducted her to an old-fashioned upper chamber, where a cheerful
fire was burning on the hearth. Here the young girls sat down before
the fire and improved their acquaintance by an hour's conversation.
After which Clara arose, and saying, "I sleep immediately below your
room, Miss Black; if you should want anything rap on the floor and I
shall hear you and get up," she wished her guest a good night's rest
and retired from the room.

Cap was disinclined to sleep; a strange superstitious feeling which
she could neither understand nor throw off had fallen upon her
spirits.

She took the night lamp in her hand and got up to examine her
chamber. It was a large, dark, oak-paneled room, with a dark carpet
on the floor and dark-green curtains on the windows and the
bedstead. Over the mantelpiece hung the portrait of a most beautiful
black-haired and black-eyed girl of about fourteen years of age, but
upon whose infantile brow fell the shadow of some fearful woe. There
was something awful in the despair "on that face so young" that
bound the gazer in an irresistible and most painful spell. And
Capitola remained standing before it transfixed, until the striking
of the hall clock aroused her from her enchantment. Wondering who
the young creature could have been, what had been her history and,
above all, what had been the nature of that fearful woe that
darkened like a curse her angel brow, Capitola turned almost
sorrowfully away and began to prepare for bed.