Both stories were originally published in 1871.
Twenty years have passed since you last saw Mrs. Jolliffe's tall slimfigure. She is now past seventy, and can't have many mile-stones moreto count on the journey that will bring her to her long home. The hairhas grown white as snow, that is parted under her cap, over hershrewd, but kindly face. But her figure is still straight, and herstep light and active.
She has taken of late years to the care of adult invalids, havingsurrendered to younger hands the little people who inhabit cradles,and crawl on all-fours. Those who remember that good-natured faceamong the earliest that emerge from the darkness of non-entity, andwho owe to their first lessons in the accomplishment of walking, and adelighted appreciation of their first babblings and earliest teeth,have "spired up" into tall lads and lasses, now. Some of them shewstreaks of white by this time, in brown locks, "the bonny gouden"hair, that she was so proud to brush and shew to admiring mothers, whoare seen no more on the green of Golden Friars, and whose names aretraced now on the flat grey stones in the church-yard.
So the time is ripening some, and searing others; and the saddeningand tender sunset hour has come; and it is evening with the kind oldnorth-country dame, who nursed pretty Laura Mildmay, who now steppinginto the room, smiles so gladly, and throws her arms round the oldwoman's neck, and kisses her twice.
"Now, this is so lucky!" said Mrs. Jenner, "you have just come in timeto hear a story."
"Really! That's delightful."
"Na, na, od wite it! no story, ouer true for that, I sid it a wi myaan eyen. But the barn here, would not like, at these hours, justgoin' to her bed, to hear tell of freets and boggarts."
"Ghosts? The very thing of all others I should most likely to hearof."
"Well, dear," said Mrs. Jenner, "if you are not afraid, sit ye downhere, with us."
"She was just going to tell me all about her first engagement toattend a dying old woman," says Mrs. Jenner, "and of the ghost she sawthere. Now, Mrs. Jolliffe, make your tea first, and then begin."
The good woman obeyed, and having prepared a cup of that companionablenectar, she sipped a little, drew her brows slightly together tocollect her thoughts, and then looked up with a wondrous solemn faceto begin.
Good Mrs. Jenner, and the pretty girl, each gazed with eyes of solemnexpectation in the face of the old woman, who seemed to gather awefrom the recollections she was summoning.
The old room was a good scene for such a narrative, with theoak-wainscoting, quaint, and clumsy furniture, the heavy beams thatcrossed its ceiling, and the tall four-post bed, with dark curtains,within which you might imagine what shadows you please.
Mrs. Jolliffe cleared her voice, rolled her eyes slowly round, andbegan her tale in these words:—
"I'm an ald woman now, and I was but thirteen, my last birthday, thenight I came to Applewale House. My aunt was the housekeeper there,and a sort o' one-horse carriage was down at Lexhoe waitin' to take m