The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

4 3% Ds ee * Binh ee Sees er a a “ 5 m we iF ., . -* “ rr. t Ay oS lt a ' 4 42 ae _— fio way that made the heart ache. ’ and looked out. ~ ed a stax your g “nature 0 d fying along the shore, like al spirit, died far outin the low and the sand hills, moaning still i $ a ing among the purples of my great dark al into the twilight, I Ze listening , loud lamentation of the surf on , and the shriexs of the sea gusts in ars, as it Sapp With them and ay the dying leaves, tossed them : : ressed close to the dripping . are ait ia hear the active note of aration, such as doors opening and closing, light footste pattering meee the dark pas- sages, a rustling of dresses on the stairs, and knock at the door, and a suin- ry eC into place, and hastened to answer it--that is, [ flitted across a narrow gallery, ‘© and through a small door opening from it, in- Se waged, ire ing-room of Mrs. Rossitor. It might have a bower for one of Grant’s naiads, with its sea-green and gold hangings; ea of emerald flashing thick with gold- lillies; its soft couch, and low chairs, all shining with the same huesin the firelight, and as in one Gothic window, sweeping over a marble urn, full of half-withered flowers, the heavy shimmering curtain tasseled heavily old, “ee ahi sat ata litile inlaid table be- fore the grate, her face averted, her head rest- z on her hard. She had been writing, | de or a sealed note lay at her elbow, and the lit table was strewn with torn papers. She started at my footsteps, and looked up smiling, and I thought—I was almost certain, tuat her lashes were glimmering over, as with ‘“Pirst of all, I beg to be pardoned, for hehe for you, Miss Darrow,” she began, with that sweet easy grace which she knew so well how to assume, ‘* but, as you see, Iam late already for this stupid ball, and Julie, my French maid, has fallen <i and <a an | to do?” with the pretty perplexity of a child. Me Shall I help you YoMaress ?” 1 asked, divin- meaning at once. me Ab, if you wolild ?” she gnswered, with that flattering eagerness which iaptiod that I was conferring a great favor. ‘*‘ My dress is y simple you see—a lady abbess—you will u e ?” archly. Kes at te at this selcstton—it was so grave, 30 alee her; but who isaccountable for reaks at a fancy ball? A moment after, and I was absorbed in combing out andadmiring in the time, her long, lustrous, oe hair which pis around my hands, and swept down her sea-green chair, like floss silk, in the fire-light. “You nae, no orpareen tt ‘ I sshed, quite rgetful, as I fastened its rich coil. iy pay ta lady abbess? No, indeed!” with ck shiver. i . ecurtain of the window, oye a The white hand trembled a a velba a trv night |” under her breath. ‘Now, bring my rosary, I will o longer, ” ROSSITOR HOUSE. 15] ' tall jewess fell to dancing a redowa at m | will help me into Darrow, if you P | mardine, i) Her cheeks turned feverishly, her eyes shon like stars. The very satin of the hase Mas reluctant to hide so perfect a face. Her dress itself was of black velvet, sweeping long and heavy from the perfect form; her rosary blood- red, with an antique cornelian cross swinging from it, She held it up in a listless, uncon- scious way in the fire-light. ‘Please go now, Miss Darrow, ” quickly: ** they will want you in the drawing-room to play for the dancers. I have kept you too long ate YF - ‘* Is there nothing more that I can do ?” ‘* Nothing, ” catching her breath, And so I went away. I lingered just long enough in the silence and gloom of my purple chamber to fasten in the lace at my throat a pearl brooch—the gift of Grant; thenI wasready. In passing the :urs- ery door, I noticed that it stood ajar, and that the lamp within was faintly burning. Had Ada awakened /I hesitated a moment—then a itopen. Quick as thought, something arted by me out into the passage, and dis- appeared adown its darkness. I might never have known what it was, the light wasso dim and uncertain, but that my eyes were caught by something red and shining that slung around it, twisting as it swung ascarlet rosary. Va- guely wondering, [ went up to the child. She y fast is ou her white pillow ;her cheek on her hand;her light curls tossed upon here face. I bent to smooth them back, and my hand met a warm wet dew sprinkled adown th. m her and there. It was a novelty indeed fur Mrs. Ross- itor to visit that rocmat all—riuch more on such a night; ap-ia novelty, alse. for the token of her preseiice to be left behiv< «er in unseen tears, The [email protected]. Rossitor Huase,tts nalls, every. dark niche, ws ablaze with light, as [ went down the staircase. There was not a figure there except re own, that had not joined the masquerade, wondered what the dead and buried Rossitors, watching grimly from the paneled watis, thought of such a gathering. A Barbary corsair, arm an arm with Queen Elizabeth; Rluebeard flirting with an Italian flower-girl: Ivanhoe in a sly corner, tete-a-tete with Charlotte Corday; Mark Anthony hob- nobbing in a free and easy manner with the eonjuror of Peru; Sir Walter Raleigh whirling ina gay waltz down the room with Marie Theresa; Charles I. making love to a pretty gypsy in the shadow of a curtain; Lucy Lain- mermoor chattering like a magyie to Cardina} ‘Woolsey; priests, fortune-tellers, cavatliers, sisters of charity, kinzs, queens, and Swiss easant girls, mixing together in grotesque amiliarity, quizzing, laughing at each other through their disguises. T sat at one piano ;at another, far down the room, a cowled monk had taken his station, and was pouring out from its honeyed keys, the maddest, m*rriest music that ever set feet to waltzing. some enchantment possessed the man, Boabdif and Marie Antoinette went off likea shot mto the mazes of a German polka; Robert Bruce and éi- bow; an Indian juggler seized upon Rose Brad- and whirled round in @ crazy, maz “s masker was adapting the melo 0)(0)(6) com (C S (E() athe anteater es rt nr 9a os «hepa tapin sd