The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

150 ROSSITOR HOUSE. here and tell Miss Darrow about the grand’ j ue’ impending, while I go and answer,” A pater an set ry, maskers we all are!” muttered Grant, bitterly, turning on his heel. Her dark eyes, with the tears still in them, smiled on me meg he “‘ Gynic! Bah! Grant, somebody must cure you of this disagreeable disease of yours, bye- and-bye. The world is well enough,in its way ; so is society at large, if you take it as 1t goes. “Tf, indeed!” he ansvvered, ironically ; “ well, Mrs. Rossitor, will you accept my as- |} _sistance from this perch ?” \ 1 watched taem disappear round the rocks éogether, her gray plume fluttering, and a weird red streak of sunset striking athwart them both. 4 picked up Grant’s sketch-book, lying as he had chrown it, at my feet, and re- lacing the loose leaves, waited listlessly for is return. The sun sank lower and lower, reddening as he went behind the distant sand-hills, and tue low, blue coast live. A fiery, cruel erimson glowed upon the sea. Some fishermen’s boats were sweeping in from the bay, and I heard the song of the boat:nen, dreamy and far off, like music in one’s sleep. Still no Grant. Presently the long white lines of the incom- ing tide began to lash the foot of the roeks on which Isat. A great, red star flushed sud- denly fromthe light-house tower down the long, darkening, s wert tege 4 had lighted its warning lamp. Thelittle wherry etill rocked at its moorings, but all signs of life, all sounds of gay voices along the beach, except a group of bare-footed fishers’ children playing in the sands, had gone, I sat, looking out over the lonely waste of waters, following now and then, the gleam of some idle sailadown the horizon, or a steam- er’s flaring smoke, shivering under my thin shawlin the fast increasing — and half deafened by the roar of the tide, Vhat could have become of Grant that ke should leave me there alone so long ? _ [heard ashout from thesummit of the rocks just above my head. [ looked vp and saw Judge Rossitur standing there, looking down at me, grimly, “What are you sitting there for?” he roared, Under other circumstances I might have laughed; asit was I felt quite indignant. ‘* I was waiting,” | began, raising up from my seat, with dignity. ‘Oh, indeed! and the tide just ready to sweep you off.” My head whirled asI leaned forward and looked over the rocks. The black sea, hissing at ~~ and flashing its foam fullia my face, lay almost evea with the shelving ledge on which I stood, a Give me your hand—quick!” eried Ross- r. He was kneeling above me, braced firmly and leaning down with a stern, displeased face, and one arm extended imperiously, ; I scrambled up the rocks, through slow dif- culties, hearing all the time, the seething tide advancing swiftly after. He leaned forward stil fa ther, his arm passed around me, Uke a iat of ivou, aud I felt uiyself dvawhn up to hus > aide. . Blue, pinched and shivering, 1 om — J I was realy too much afraid of the manto — ask for Graot, but I ventured ona very “ Thank you.” Heunderstood. . “ Wyvil ane a ae ing-ro hour.ago. Never sit fr ere ay sunset, Miss Darrow, itis unbealth Deut oe His eyes were full of couchant sarcasm, wibwadut eer 70 a 3 less, always negleotful, ' his was a drop tmnuch, He should know that my pans ul its limits, like that of other mortals. A thorough woman, was I not/ for he glided — into a nelghhcyingaaed at the tea-table that — night, with such a pleading, penitent face that he was quite forgiven, even beforamhe spoke, “ Roth,” in alow whisper, “look at me, — won't you ? Tama brute—a barbarian! Con- found ‘Rossitor | why did he mot tell me that — he thought you were stillon theshoref#” “ Why did not Mr. Wyvil find.out the fact for himself ?” [ answered, severely. ‘‘ But, my dear child, I did not think you — would wait so long, you know” . ‘Oh, certainly mot !” Stee ‘“* { peally did fonget you,’ maively.: = St oie - By At ke my ' en a, ‘* Greatly obliged. ” | eee ae - * Dom sae with me—please ! Mrs, Ros- i sitor says you are to be Amy Kobsart at the masque ball.’ om SS eee ‘¢ A little mistake. Ishall be a mere spe ss = tor in my usual ‘ bodden gray,’ instead.” ‘* Aud discourse sweet music for the mask- = ers. aus ‘* That depends—” aah “ You do forgive me ?” oii “Nonsense! Look at Miss ‘Drummond's | 3 ee bracelets.” Pato et ‘* Miss Darrow shall wear a pair like then to-morrow,’ gaily. . tags ee I shook my head, satin. 62 it ended dike i all our lover’s quarrels. Not, just how- = ever. Hedid not come next day, bucin bis fF place, a dainty ebony casket, with a grot cd device earved on the oval. cover, foun its way a to my dressing-table; I had heeome so usedto t#rant’s oddities that he seldom ised me now. I opened the casket, aud saw—my bracelets. Laid away among othe ar +a toes of that summer, I have them yet,the same as when he gave them, for x A 9 em never worn—two scaly serpents of yellow At eet rican gold, their broad flat crests stwidod rel and thick with shimmering rubies, AsIlifted — them ina gleam of sunshine howcameltc — think of Cleopatraand herasp ? Every crusted scale flashed at me weirdly; the broad cret ete se-med flattened for a deadly spring; the cruel a red of the Indian rubies glowed like drops at a blood, freshly spilled. I dropped them their perfumed velvet cushion, My br did not please me. Grant was gifts, but I closed the little c beatae 3 away quickly. le ere pix A dark, dreary autumn night ne rr-y fast OF September ushered in the masque ball at Ros — sitor House, The sun bad gone down}: , aod threatening, ina Dank of “— ow chowus. ‘ss wind rese moaning, Ui thet ia “%, = -_ ‘ ae: ee > - eo a Par «; << 9 ' é : ‘ = ey a Ye