Ti sposero.

Helen had reached the concluding cadence of her soft and melancholy
song, when raising her eyes from the strings to her still sleeping
husband, she beheld with panic-struck and breathless amazement, a
female figure, standing opposite resting her hand on the back of his
chair--silent, and motionless, and with fixed and glassy eyes gazing
mournfully on herself. She saw--yes!--distinctly saw, as described
by little Hugh, "a Lady in rich attire, but pale, very pale;" and in
the stillness and gloom of the apartment and the hour,

"'Twas frightful there to see
A lady richly clad as she,
Beautiful exceedingly."

The paleness of that pensive face did not lessen its loveliness, and
the hair which hung in bright curls on her shoulders and gorgeous
apparel, was white and glossy as silver. Helen gazed for a moment
spell-bound; for she beheld in that countenance without the
possibility of doubt, the resemblance of the deceased Lady Greville,
whose portrait, in a similar dress, hung in the picture gallery at
Silsea Castle. She shuddered; for the eyes of the spectre remained
steadfastly fixed upon her; and its lips moved as if about to address
her--"Mother of God--protect me!" exclaimed Helen convulsively, and
she fell insensible on the floor.