This was especially observable in the sleeping-chamber appointed for her reception.

It was large and lofty, panelled with black and shining oak, with a highly-polished floor of the same material, and was filled with cumbrous chests and cabinets, and antique high-backed chairs.

But the most noticeable object was a large state-bed, with a heavy square canopy, covered, with the richest damask, woven with gold, and hung with curtains of the same stuff, though now decayed and tarnished.

A chill crept over Amabel as she gazed around.
"I cannot help thinking," she observed to Prudence, "that I shall breathe my last in this room, and in that bed." "I hope not, madam," returned the attendant, unable to repress a shudder.
Nothing more was said, and Amabel retired to rest.

But not being able to sleep, and having vainly tried to compose herself, she arose and opened the window.