The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 38: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a I A TN ty eae = case. et pation sa cman ROSSITOR HOUSE. BY ETTA W. PIERCE. CHAPTER 1. WaANTED.—In the family of a ventleman, a Governvess, to superintend the education of a small child. Salary liberal. Address Judge Rossitor, Rossitor House, Black Beach, That was how the words ran, plain, simple, eoncise, I have them still—just as they were cut from the coluinns of a daily journal, and tucked away in a corner of my pocket-book, as something which might possibly insure me the living which it had become a settled fact that I now must earn, I had been fashionably rearéd and educated by arelative, deceased. If in lite he bad pitied my youth and orphanage and poverty, that pity was not made public in the legacies of his will. With my existence ignored in that im- portant document, I found my future narrow- ing suddenly to this prospect—work fur my own maintenunce, as became the proud blood o©n Lindependence of the Darrows, and by-and- by, perhaps, when such an alliance couid no longer clog the way of his ambition, a mar- riage with Grant Wyvil, my betrothed hus- band, Tame and commonp ace enough, was it not ? : So it was, that ona dreary twilight, deepen- ing pecuel? through long rows of guant pop- lar trees, and dying down the long hall in a darkness full of vague echoes, I sat at the window in my traveling-dress, listening forthe first rattle of the carriage in the street below, The purple sweep of the curtain made a black shadow in the recess, Outside the thick white rdin fell like sheets of crystals, trickling down the pane and through the blank pale lignt each with a voice of warning, perhaps, if I had thought to listen I was to goin the evening boat for Black Beach. [unfolded and read again, there in the lonesome dying day, Judge Rossitor’s ade vertisement for a governess, and also the letter which he had written me, accepting the servy- ices which I had tendered as such. Both pleased me. The letter was a model of polite elegance, The salary he offered much exceeded my expectations. Moreover, the Rossitors were old friends of Grant Wyvil, and would be sure to welcome me kindly for his sake, There was no possible reason why I should sit in that dreary window watching the fall- ing rain with the heaviest heart r had ever snewn; yet I did. Some one came leaping up the staircase hrough the shadows, clearing their silenve with a snatch of song, that blithe and as it was, rings in my ear till this day, like a dirge: Oh! I loved in my youth a lady fair, For ber azure eyes and her golden hair; Ob! truly, ob! truly, I loved ber then, And naught shall I ever so love again, Save my hawk, and my hound, and my red-roan steed-——” I turned, ** Dame Hubbard,” said Wyvil, under bi breath, and making eyes at me, ‘*‘ there’s a car riage at the door and a boat at the wharf, and you—what! let me look at you—crying?” ‘*No!” indignantly, _Down splashed a great tearon my betrothal- ring. ** Dew for the diamonds! ” ole fast tho ring and the hand that wore it. ‘‘ Little Jesuit, you shall not go!” He had brown eyes, as dark and brilliant as ee 1 saw down in their dusk a sudden rouble leap up, | “* Not go! and you cloaked, and booted and spurred, and——” ‘** Home-sick already?” with a grimace, . — h ome-sick,” e) 3) T lait the hand that wore his ring on one broad shoulder, and crossed the other hand up- on it. ‘** But half afraid of Tell me about the | He towered above me head and shoulders, flushing suddenly through his tawny skin ;then he bent, and with an indescribably_tender ges- ture, touct ed his lips to my eyelids. “There is little enough to tell, The judge my new life, Grant. ieee ” zs isan aristocrat, proud of his blue bl old estates. For the child, she is a delicate little sprite, you will pet her and she will love you;and Mrs, Kossitor—well, she is simply a maguificent cheat |” he word came out after a pause, slow and bitter, ‘** Grant!” : He laughed, but with the flush ionable women are that, more or less, MIN Rossitor is a distant cousin of mine, I can afford to abuse my relatives, you know. However, she may have changed,” | _ | ‘* But, Grant——” ea SF still on his” ace, | for ** Little prude, are you shocked ? All fash> anJ a as he ae ee RAC ce. ~ » “ & = a af ary tate Bal vee © ‘