The Argosy — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

The Story of Charles Strange. gI shutting out Miss Annabel, under the excuse of headaches or lowness, drinking all the time; and me there to keep the door. I’m sure the black stories I have gone and invented, to pacify Miss Annabel and put her off the right scent, would drive a parson to his prayers.” ‘Then Miss Annabel does not know it ?” *¢ She do now,” returned Hatch. ‘‘ The first night there was that disturbance in the house about missis seeing the ghost, her room was thrown open in the fright, and all the house got in. I turned the servants out: I dared not turn out Miss Annabel, and she couldn’t fail to see that her mother was the worse for drink. So then I told her some, and Mr. Close told her more next morning.” Annabel’s strange grief, so mysterious to me, was accounted for now. Hatch continued. “ You see now, sir, why Miss Annabel has been kept so much at Hastings. Master would never have her at home for long together afeared her mother might betray herself. He wanted to keep the child in ignorance of it, as long as it was possible. Miss Brightman knew it. She found it out the last time she was visiting here ; and she begged my missis, on her bended knees, to be true to herself, and leave it off. Missis promised—and such a bout of crying they two had together afore Miss Lucy went away! For a time she did get better; but it all came back again. And then came master’s death—and the shock and grief of that has made her give way more than she ever did. And there it is, sir. The secret’s got too weighty for me; I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.” ‘Perry says Mrs. Brightman is now lying ill with brain fever.” “We call it brain fever to the servants, me and Mr. Close ; it’s near enough for them,” was Hatch’s cool reply. ‘‘ The curious thing is that Perry don’t seem to suspect; he sees more of his missis than the rest do, and many a time must have noticed her shaking. Last night her fit of shaking was dreadful—and her fever too, for the matter of that. She is as close as she well can be upon that disorder that comes of drink. If it goes on to a climax, nothing can save the dis- grace from coming out downstairs.” Nothing could or would save it, in my opinion, downstairs or up, indoors or out. What a calamity! “But she is a trifle better to-night,” continued Hatch. ‘‘ The medicines have taken effect at last and put her into a deep sleep, or else I couldn’t be talking here.” ‘** Did you invent the episode of Mr. Brightman’s ghost, Hatch, by way of accounting for Mrs. Brightman’s state to the servants?” | inquired. “7 invent it!” returned Hatch. “I didn’t invent it. My missis did see it. Not, I take it, that there was any ghost to see, in one sense, but when these poor creatures is in the shakes, they fancy they see all kinds of things—monkeys and demons, and such like. I can’t conniclooolkks (C(O)