"And so the house was abandoned by high and low, rich and poor alike.
And the worthy gossips of the neighborhood wisely nodded over their
tea-cups, and declared that the deserted condition of the house was but
a just retribution for the sins of its master.
"And in the meantime the health of the mistress grew worse and worse.
The most serious fears were entertained for her life and reason, death
or insanity seeming to be the most probable issue of her malady. Medical
advice was called in. The doctor, either in complaisance or sincerity,
agreed with Mr. Dubarry's theory of the patient's condition, ascribing
her illness to an 'abnormal state of the nervous system,' and he advised
change of air and scene, and he held forth good hopes that within a very
few months, when the young wife should become a mother, her health might
be perfectly reëstablished.
"Under these circumstances, early in the new year, Mr. Dubarry took his
wife to Williamsburg, to spend the winter among the gayeties of the
colonial Governor's court.
"The haunted house was shut up, and left to itself. Not a man or woman
could be found to live in it, for love or money.
"In the glories of the colonial capital, Mrs. Dubarry completely
recovered from her nervous malady. She was visited by no more 'optical
illusions' or 'cataleptic' fits. She even grew to regard her former
visitations in the same way in which her husband pretended to view
them--as mere nervous phenomena. And as the fashionable season at
Williamsburg closed, and as the spring opened, Mrs. Dubarry expressed an
ardent desire to return to 'Shut-up Dubarry' for her confinement. 'The
heir of the manor should be born on the manor,' she said.
"Mr. Dubarry had great doubts about the safety of this measure, and
attempted to dissuade his wife from it; but she was firm in her purpose,
and so she carried it.
"It was early in the royal month of June that the young wife was taken
back to her country home. Shut-up Dubarry looked as little like a
'haunted house' as any house could look: waving woods, sparkling waters,
blossoming trees, blooming flowers, singing birds--all the richness,
beauty and splendor of summer turned it into a paradise. Besides, Mrs.
Dubarry brought down half a dozen young cousins of both sexes with her,
and they filled the house with youthful life. Under these circumstances,
the old servants were tempted back. And all went on very well until one
day one of the young girls suddenly spoke out at the full
breakfast-table, and asked: "'Alicia, who is that strange, silent girl, in the red cloak, that is
always following you about?' "Mrs. Dubarry grew deadly pale, sat down the cup that she had held in
her hand, but she did not attempt to speak.