A month must now be allowed to elapse.

During the interval, the dark clouds that hung over Ouselcroft have dispersed, and the place has once more assumed a pleasant aspect.

Unhappy Teresa will never again trouble those connected with her.

Mildred, we rejoice to say, under the care of Doctor Spencer, has entirely recovered, and looks more beautiful than ever. She is at Brackley with Emmeline, who has quite regained her spirits and good looks, both of which had suffered from her recent anxiety. Rose Hartley is still with them.

Master of Ouselcroft, Chetwynd has already won the hearts of his dependents. He looks somewhat older and much graver, and Norris says he discerns a likeness to his father that he never perceived before.

As to Norris himself, we need scarcely say he still holds the most important post in the household, and will continue to hold it as long as he is able to do so.

Chetwynd has two guests staying with him—Sir Bridgnorth Charlton and Captain Danvers—and they will remain at Ouselcroft till certain contemplated events come off.

Lady Thicknesse is at Brackley with Lady Barfleur, and means to stay there for a short time longer. She has engaged Laura, and is very well satisfied with her. The talkative lady's-maid suits her exactly. Sir Bridgnorth drives out her ladyship daily in his phaeton, and they then discuss their future plans, but she has not yet seen Charlton, nor will she visit her future residence till she goes there as its mistress. She has every prospect of happiness with Sir Bridgnorth, who really devotes himself to her, and strives to anticipate all her wishes.

Charles Danvers and Mildred pass all their time together. At first, they contented themselves with the gardens of Brackley; but since Mildred has grown stronger, and is able to take equestrian exercise, they have begun to take long rides, and are seldom seen between luncheon and dinner. Captain Danvers considers himself a most fortunate man, and with good reason, for he will have a most lovely bride, and a very large fortune.

But what of Chetwynd? Ought he not to be esteemed fortunate? As far as wealth is concerned, he has far more than he ever dreamed of, and if he weds the heiress of Brackley, he will become one of the richest men in the county. But his chief wealth, in his own esteem, is in the prize he has won, and he looks forward eagerly to the day—now not very far distant, he hopes—when he shall make her his own.

Such is the present state of things at the two houses the inmates of which are constantly together, dining with each other daily, either at Ouselcroft or Brackley; but we shall, perhaps, learn more, by assisting at a confidential talk that took place one afternoon in the butler's pantry at Ouselcroft, between old Norris and Laura.

“Well, Mr. Norris,” she said, “I am come to see how you are getting on. We are quiet enough just now, but we shall soon have plenty to do.”

“In what way?” asked the butler.

“In the matrimonial line,” replied Laura. “Three weddings will come off very shortly.”

“Are any of them fixed?” inquired Norris.

“Not that I am aware of,” replied the lady's-maid; “but they cannot be long delayed. All depends upon Lady Thicknesse. When she names the day, the other two are sure to follow suit.”

“Her ladyship, I suppose, has positively accepted Sir Bridgnorth?” asked Norris.

“Positively,” replied Laura; “and a very good choice she has made, according to my notion. For my own part, I should prefer the old baronet to either of the young men.”

“Pooh, pooh! He won't bear comparison with my young master. Of course, he's very suitable to a middle-aged dame like Lady Thicknesse.”

“He's very agreeable, I repeat, and I think my lady uncommonly lucky in securing him. I believe they've agreed to spend half the year in town, and the other half in the country. That'll just suit me.”

“At any rate, they'll have no lack of money,” said Norris. “But, after all, Lady Thicknesse is nothing like so rich as her niece—to say nothing of Brackley, which must come to the young lady by-and-by.”

“Yes; they'll have too much,” observed Laura. “I wonder where Mr. Chetwynd and his lady will reside?”

“Why, here—at Ouselcroft—of course,” replied Norris.

“I don't feel sure of that,” said Laura. “I sometimes fancy they'll live at Brackley.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Norris. “Mr. Chetwynd will never leave his father's house, now he has got possession of it. I'm certain of that.”

“Then Captain and Mrs. Danvers may as well take up their quarters at Brackley,” said Laura.

“You're settling all very nicely!” said Norris, with a laugh. “But I don't know that Lady Barfleur will consent to take them. I should think not. All very well as visitors, but not for a permanence.”

“Well, then, Mrs. Danvers must buy a place,” said Laura. “She'll have money enough.”

Norris laughed; but, directly afterwards, his countenance changed, and he said, gravely:

“Ah, Laura! we live in a strange world. A month ago, who would have thought things would be in this state? Then we were talking over Mrs. Calverley's contemplated marriage with Lord Courland. Now she is gone, and other weddings are about to take place.”

“Don't mention the poor dear lady, Mr. Norris, if you wouldn't make me cry,” said Laura, taking out her pocket-handkerchief. “She had dreadful faults, no doubt; but she was always very kind to me, and I will say this of her, she was the loveliest creature ever beheld.”

“She contrived to do a great deal of mischief in her time,” observed Norris.

“Granted,” rejoined Laura. “But you ought to feel some sorrow for her, seeing how very handsomely she behaved to you, Mr. Norris. I'm sure I feel very much obliged to her for my fifty pounds, though I wish it had been five thousand, like Lord Courland's legacy.”

“Yes, that's a good lumping sum,” observed Norris, “and will console his lordship for her loss.”

“I suppose he has got the money?” remarked Laura.

“Yes; the legacy has already been paid,” replied Norris.

“I thought it had,” said Laura. “But do tell me, Mr. Norris—is it true the poor lady has been seen since her death?”

“Clarissa declares she certainly beheld her the other evening in the dressing-room,” replied the butler.

“Dear me, how dreadful!” exclaimed Laura, “I should be frightened to death. Clarissa saw her in the dressing-room, you say. How was it? Do tell me!”

“Clarissa's tale is this. She was in the poor lady's bedchamber the other evening, just as it was growing dusk, when fancying she heard a sound in the dressing-room, she opened the door, which was standing ajar, and then beheld an apparition exactly resembling Mrs. Calverley, and holding a small phial, at which the figure was looking. So scared was Clarissa at the sight, that she could neither cry out nor stir till the apparition turned its head and fixed its eyes upon her. Their expression was so terrible that she rushed back, and fell senseless on the bedchamber floor. This is the account she gives, and most of the women-servants believe it, but I regard it as mere fancy.”

“I believe it, Mr. Norris,” replied Laura, shuddering. “I once saw Mrs. Calverley myself in the dressing-room, in the exact posture you describe her, with a little phial in her hand, containing eau de luce, she said, but I am now sure it was poison. I shall never forget the look she gave me. Depend upon it, Clarissa has seen her spirit.”

“May be so,” observed Norris.

“The poor thing can't rest, and I don't wonder at it,” observed Laura. “I suppose these rooms will be shut up, Mr. Norris?”

“Nobody has slept there since the poor lady's death,” he replied; “but I can't say about shutting up the rooms.”

“I wouldn't sleep there for the world,” remarked Laura. “Indeed, after this occurrence, I don't think I shall ever venture into the dressing-room again. I should always expect to find her there.”

Just then a bell was rung, and Norris instantly prepared to answer the summons.

“My young master wants to see me before he sets out for Brackley,” he said. “Stay where you are for a few minutes. I may have something to tell you.”

When Norris reappeared, he had a very joyful expression of countenance.

“I can tell you something you don't know, Laura,” he said—“something about Lady Thicknesse.”

“I know what it is. The wedding-day is fixed.”

“Right!”

“When is it to be?” she exclaimed, eagerly.

“This day week,” replied the butler.

“Then her ladyship will get the start of the others,” said Laura.

“I'm not sure of that,” replied Norris, significantly. “I can't tell you any more now. All I know is, my young master and Captain Danvers have just ridden off to Brackley.”