Kenosha tribune & telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1856-1859, 1857-11-26
vI-THE GHosTLY FOOTSTEPS.

On every succeeding day Throughout
the months that followed this first visit
Laurence Royston was constant in his
attendance on Nicholas Drew. He wor
ked with diligence and success, notwith
standing the bright eyes that often over.
looked him and the old engraver was
pleased and satisfied with his pupil. He
was enthusiastic himself, and he thought
Royston under his cold cynicism had
sparks of the genial fire too. His com.
ing also gratified Adie for she liked
change and variety, of which there was
ordinarily but little in Nevil's Court.
1t was not strange that after while
she grew to like him, because his man
ner towards her was impregnated with
the subtlest fattery. He differed essen.
TALLY from every one she knew, in his quiet
ways Of winding into and answering her
unuttered thoughts. He made his mind,
as it were, chime responsive to hers; he
studied her face until he understood her
feeling ere she could express it he OBJ
served her tastes and distastes, her little
whims and weaknesses, and vanities, land
played upon them with master hand,
until he could wind and turn her any
way he would, and all this without hav-
ing committed himself by single word.
He went through it like game of skill,
in which the most astute must win; while
she blushed and was angry and astonish-
ed at herself in secret to see how much
she was giving for nothing-unasked,
possibly undesired She could not Law
the soothing JUNCTION to her heart that
Laurence Royston so much as liked her;
for if he were kind, almost tender, one
day, he would be cynical and careless
the next; if his eyes dwelt on her car
essingly one moment, the next there
came over them that Pickering sinister
light as Of cruel thought shining
through.
Nicholas as they learnt to know each
other better, began to regard him with
less favor; tchy was not apparent; he
distrusted him, probably. One dark No
vember night, Adie happened to be left
alone in the room at Nevil'sC Court; Mich
olas had gone out reluctantly on bust
ness, and Martha had been absent few
days in the country where she was sup
posed to have gone to nurse her aged
mother. The girl sat idly by the crack
ling wood fire, twirling in her fingers
the shriveled relics of the wild white
rose, which she had fetched from its hi
ding place to keep her thoughts compa-
ny. In her eyes there was a deeper,
stiller expression than formerly, and a
less frequent smile on her lips also; but
the rich glow of her southern beauty
had not lost a single tint. Her heart
was restless, but not sorrowing.
Laurence Royston had been there in
the morning, in his pleasanter mood and
as Adie sat alone by the fire, she was
thinking within herself how dull they
should be when he was gone away
She, at least, not Nicholas for he had
said that day, with vehement express
sion quite unusual to him when Royston
had left; "Adie, do not ike that man;
/ have been deceived in him." and she
had turned away, with a slightly angry
flush darkening her brow. If the old
man hao struck her, it would have pain
ed her less than hearing him speak thus.
For the first time in her life she felt re,
| sentfnl against poor Nicholas-felt as if
he had injured her; and she let him go
out before her passion cooled. She was
brooding over it now, when sound
caured her to raise her face and listen
intently. In the corridor outside the
wall, there went slow, distinct, measured
steps; she could have counted them
Her cheeks blanched, and all the blood
rushed back violently to her heart; but