picture of the last supper

picture of the last supper Give over with that baby-work!' I interrupted, dragging the pillow away, and turning the holes towards the mattress, for she was removing its contents by handfuls. `Lie down and shut your eyes: you're wandering. There's a mess! The down is flying about like snow.'
I went here and there collecting it.
`I see in you, Nelly,' she continued dreamily, `an aged woman: you have grey hair and bent shoulders. This bed is the fairy cave under Peniston Crag, and you are gathering elf-bolts to hurt our heifers; pretending, while I am near, that they are only locks of wool. That's what you'll come to fifty years hence: I know you are not so now. I'm not wandering: you're mistaken, or else I should believe you really were that withered hag, and I should think I was under Peniston Crag; and I'm conscious it's night, and there are two candles on the table making the black press shine like jet.'
picture of the last supper
black press? where is that?' I asked. `You are talking in your sleep!'
`It's against the wall, as it always is,' she replied. `It does appear odd--I see a face in it!'
`There's no press in the room, and never was,' said I, resuming my seat, and looping up the curtain that I might watch her.
`Don't you see that face?' she inquired, gazing earnestly at the mirror.
And say what I could, I was incapable of making her comprehend it to be her own; so I rose and covered it with a shawl.
`It's behind there still!' she pursued anxiously. `And it stirred. Who is it? I hope it will not come out when you are gone! Oh! Nelly, the room is haunted! I'm afraid of being alone!'
picture of the last supper