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Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

Clayton.
It was still calm and unconscious. Ernie, too, slumbered peacefully.
Every thing seemed propitious to my purpose. I threw on hastily the
famous, flimsy black silk and mantle that had been prepared for me on
shipboard, tied a dark veil over my head, and, with no other
precaution, went forth, as I hoped, to freedom.
My heart seemed to suspend its action as, cautiously unlocking and
opening the door, I stepped forth on the platform. It will be remembered
that I knew the topography of the lower part of the house of old
thoroughly.
I had been entertained there with my father more than once, when, as
heiress of my mother's great estate, I had commanded the reverence of my
hosts, and the situation of parlors, study, and dining-room, was
perfectly familiar to me.
It was what in those days was called a single house, though a
spacious-enough mansion; that is, all the rooms, with one exception,
were placed either on the same side of the wide hall of entrance, or
behind it in the ell. The study alone formed a small lateral projection
on the other hand. The door of this apartment opened at the foot of
that-stair, on the upper platform of which I now stood trembling,
weighing my fate by a hair. I had left the door ajar through which I had
crept quietly, so that, in case of failure, I might have a chance of
retreat before discovery should be made.


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