the end of a long corridor. I thought of his gentle eyes, and sprang
towards him; but he vanished, I could not tell how. I began to think
he was a phantom; that it was all a strange dream. If there had only
been a bird to sing, or a frog to hop about, or any thing living! But
the lady was so still she scarcely seemed to breathe, and the old man
came and went like a shadow. There was not even a breath of
wind. Finest lace curtains hung in the rooms, but they never
stirred. How much pleasanter was my little muslin curtain at home,
that fluttered so lightly in the summer breeze! And then my morning
glories, that peeped into my window; they were all in full bloom,
pink, purple, and white, and I was not there to see them.

At length I found my way into this ivory room. The statues here are
not as stern as in the rest of the house. Some are very lovely, and
there is even one of a mother holding a child, which makes me think of
my mother and our little baby. O, how many hours I have passed at the
feet of this statue, weeping as I never wept before!

I know not how many days I have been here, but it seems a very long
while. Did you ever wake in the night, when it was all still, and you
could see the faint starlight through the window? and did it not seem
as if you were awake a very, very long time, and as if a great many
thoughts came, which you never had before? and yet, perhaps, it is
only a little while. So it is with me. It may be only a few days since
I left home; but it seems to me as if the summer must have passed, as
if all the flowers were faded, and the leaves fallen from the trees;
and yet father may still be mowing his grass, and Mary playing in the
hay. Happy, happy Mary!

I would write to her and my mother, and tell them where I am, and