Butte record., 1856-06-07


ther, again, |, Of the whole human
race, had failed to impress the mind O
Susan with my superior claim to res
pect, certain it was that Susan hat
not that amenity of manner or activi
ty of service where | was concerned
which would have been expected from
our relative positions.-lf my pitch
ers were ever full of water, my boots
ever at the door when they should have
been, | have only to say it was the ex-
ception, and not the rule. Susan's
manner, too, of answering a question
was abrupt, and not particularly res
pectful. So | was not surprised, OF
opening my door and addressing a
timid interrogatory to Susan, to the eff
feet that / should like to know who had
arrived, that she should answer some
what in this wise:
Go away Mr.. Sidney, don't be a.
botherin me who is tired and distract
ed to death now
However, Susan was a woman, and
could not resist the pleasure oe telling
piece of news.
There is a gentleman and lady
and a sick one, and lots of trunks; and
the sick one has tainted away, and
they is a-bringin' her to-
l shut my door and looked out at
the tree. He nodded and winked his
one eye at me, and tossed dis branch
e5 in wild delight. We understood
each other perfectly.
Iphigenia had arrived; saw it at
a glance. This fainting person was
evidently sick girl, who had been
brought to this house by her parents.
She would recover slowly. | would
fascinate her, and, if she did not then
die, would kill her! Yes! in the
dead of night, | would ascend to
the third floor front, wake her from
sleep, and calmly, cody, like
Mr.. Forrest on the stage, | would
plunge my knife into her pure
bosom, and walk away, wrapping my
mantle round me- and keep my dread
full secret to eat out my heart
| made my preparations with 6end-
ish coolness. | looked long and stea-
dily in the depths of the looking glass,
my coutenance as interes ting
as the case would permit. pulled
out of a drawer blue cravat, which
in a moment of previous despair | ha |
but which became me much.
| spent an hour Or so over my hair, and
curled my lip until it was quite lame.
These preparations over, | had moth
ing before me but the mundane neces-
sity Of going to bed. As common life,
with its perpetual grind of buttons,
and boots, and shaving, came back to
me, | relapsed again into apathy, be-
gan to tire even Of the idea of killing
the girl. The tree kept me up, how
ever, and tapped, and nodded, and
winked in most uncommon man
ner.
She was not at breakfast, no, nor
at dinner. | heard, too, to my dis
gust that she was married. Mrs.
Brown. How the tree gibbered and
pointed its skinny fingers at me! Eve
ming came, and alone in my room |
tried not to seek tine tree; but let me
look where would, so firmly was it
daguerreotyped on my mind that |
could but see it, and ever and anon
came the tap-tap, as if to remind
me | was not alone.
Mrs. Brown was travelling with
her nurse and physician. Who Or
where 3Ir. Brown was did not appear.
One day stopped the nurse in the
hall and enquiled for her mistr ess.-
she told me she was better, and would
be down in a few days. As for tne
physician, he was very silent, disa-
greeable fellow, with grey hair and a
young face, contradictory sort Of
expression, and pair Of eyes which
never met yours.
As proof that l got the better Of
my apathy about this time, will men,
ton that, in passing through the halls
| heard the nurse ask Susan who that
young man was that spoke to her.
Susan replied:
'Oh, miserable kind of dyspepsia
feller-he don't know nothing.
As psychological fact, and proof
that had come to have some feeling
| was very glad to observe that thi:
remark aroused in me a considerable
degree of wrath.
That evening | saw Mrs. Brown
As | came home at twilight wen
up to niy room, but before entering i
| sprang back as from an eletric shock
for coming out of it was woman
the strangest woman. A small, pale
gaunt woman, with black eyes ant
great hollows round them. dressed il
black with white hallow round he
throat, she seemed all black and whit