The Arm Chair Library No. 79: The Haunted Homestead — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

a fh. s . : x as ye ee ee Poet ein ed _ _ a + be Qa a - Ms ; Pe By at ie a F % ag — . 7 ee A , tay - . ~ Nica e* 2 Pe ~ s Fa tte c * e - : d A » vb 5 o wai nO - he - . 4 . + aera tt - ~ at ~ > - ae re 160 not, I shall stay to-night in this chamber, alone. ” The dear old woman did not attempt further opposition, but got up and went out, wring- ing her hands, and crying af if ber hear: would break. For me, I went to the recessed window—-that window last opened to adinit my mother’s lover, or husband—and gazed with dry, hot eyes out into the clashing limbs of the with- ered tree at whose foot lay my fither’s mur- dered body. So stood I, motionless, while the nurse brought fuel, and kinule | a fire upon the forlorn hearth, prepared the tvd, and set out varivus little articles of comfort wd lux- ury, hoping—as fond hearts will—to scothe, b pampering the body, as ul wounded beyon the hopeof any help save God’s. Then she cameand laida mutely eloquent hand upon my arm; but I turned sharply, and taking ber hand in mine, led her to the door, an! witha kiss upon her forehead put her gentiy out, and would have fastened the door behind ver; but the lock wasbroken. Broken when? andho . ? Oh, that one slight but unlooked for confirma- tion of my nurse's tale rea ched my heart with a keen sting that the crushing whole had failed to carry | I secured the door with a button affixed to the casing, but probably not used upon that fatal night;and then [at last dared to give way tothe passion that was tearing at my heart. I cannot tell, I would not if I could, what in the next hours, The utter abandon- ment of a buman soul is not a sight for human eyes. Enough that the angels saw it, and trembled as they wept. as briefly as I may, the incidents that led to “ste presence in this lonely and ill-omened use. When I came home from the school where my girlhood passed in peaceful monotony, } found myself the mistress of my grandfather's house, and soon the darling of his heart; for I loved him Hc gere and never ner afraid. Isaw a great deal of company, was flattered and ad- a ar yf oe had are than one suitor. But from the first Lloved Maurice Burton, although for monthsI was as cold as marble to him, until, fearing all, hoping nething, he told me of his love. Ipass over the happy days that followed. We were to have soon been married, when one morning my grandfather, the kind promoter rem symp ee tod pod gy + Peet, was found ead in became the orphan — of bis base oa aa - Maurice urged an immediate marriage; b I refused to abate a day of my sar eran: ing, and inviting a staid old tive to come and re:main with me, I resigned myself to months of patient retirement, and preparation for the happy evevt that should terminate it. Upon this peace.ul and monotonous calm ing blow. I received a letter~stay. an giveth Thus it ran: — Hee ** Do you know, fair, haughty eyes wander over proud one—whose tuuch the earth asif they spurned it, a? a vi your fellow-men paaaoe ree Aa THE MOORHOCTSE TRAGEDY, and | as if you saw them not—do you know that the mark of shame was branded upon that white brow before ever you were born? Do you know that your father was a poor tutor, who repaid his benefactor’s tolerance with the rankest treachery andingratituds? That your mother—well, perhaps you neyer heard the name that the world would give to your mother, Do you know that your grandfather roused at last to the knowledge of his shame killed the villain who bad injured him, evet in the arms of tie poor fool he had betrayed: and that she, in the sbock of that moment, lost the little wit she ever owned, and remaiuved from that moment to the moment of your birth and her death a moping, mowing idiot ! D> you know that in one of your stately mansions is an apartment known as the ‘ Chamber to the East,’ and that upon its floor isa deep red stain—the stain of your fatber’s blood ? Would you read all this, given in the dry detail of an offitial examination, as | have done ? Ah! your grandfather made sure that the gers were destroyed long years ago; but did not know that one had read them first, who now profits by the knowledge to strike straight and deep at the heart of the uak_bty girl who has slighted him more than once. For all this that you know, my fair ove, Maurice Burton also knows; and he haf been furnished with provfs, as well as_assel™ tions. Discuss the history together. It will vary the monotony of lovers’ talk. ” Such was the fetter. Whence it came, I neither knew nor cared. The blow had struck home, and the hand tnat dealt it was un Let me rather narrate, | heeded I waited for Maurice that evening with a fierce i ience. I received him alone and my eyes devoured the meaning of his face. !° was very pale, but calm. contlict was over—love had conquered pride, [rom thea till the day of his death he never would hav® alluded to the miserable secret. But no such reticence was mine. I spoke briefly, coldly: ‘‘ Maurice, you have received a letter to- day. Did itcontain proofs as well as asser- “e ““c noe See me please. Were there | proots ¢— “I believe so—I do not know—do not care. Why urge such questions? ” 7s use I must have the truth. Te me if indeed you love me, is this story true?! m ris Wes mintier Rosalind? ee of 30, } cannot soil my own el. 3 And “you can torture ine thus? Answe a oes love of God! is this story true ot * T fear it is darling: but— “ns as mer oo ga a” moaned I, t from the room to lock myself into my I did not sleep that night; but when! ” calm enough to think 1 planned ™Y Seagal lite. My nurse had spoken sometimes, 1" . , far from towed - thither I resol es C300