Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1875-07-08
ANASTASIA'S GHOST.

How we'll | remember that dismal
November night! Some vague pre-
sentiment of evil weighed upon my
heart, os / sat alone in the twilight.
And vet there was nothing apparent
ly to make me gloomy. On the con
trary, | ought to have been more than
usually cheerful; had | not received
delicious promise from Katie Mel
son that very afternoon?
1t seemed odd, to be sure, that a
gray haired widower like myself was
TO marry the girl Of eighteen. Her
mother had been honsckceper in
our family, but died soon after Ka
ties birth. So it happened that she
was adopted by us, as we had no
children of our own.
NY wife treated her kindly, but
without much warmth of feeling.
Anastasia was of such peculiar dis
position that l actually believe she
was Jealous of this infant.
Poor Anastasia! she warned me
solemnly on her death h-bed never to
marry again, and threatened to rise
from her grave in such an event.
Katie was in her tenth year when
my wife died. l sent her away to a
boarding school; and, as business
called me abroad, did not see her
again until my return, eight years af-
terwards.
was somewhat bewildered to find
a lovely woman, instead of the little
girl l had left in short dresses. OF
course you can guess the sequel. l
fell in love with this charming adopt
ed daughter. There was something
in the frank tenderness of her man.
ner that completely won my heart.
1t was evident that she was deeply
attached to me. / could not help
seeing how much higher she valued
my society than that of my nephew,
Charles Raymond, who had accom-
panied me from abroad. She never
addressed him except in monosylla-
bles, and would flush all over with
embarrassment if he but entered the
room. But with me she was always
selfpossessed, and so talkative and
sociable that l could not help pityine
Charlie.
He was really good looking, and
used to wonder sometimes at her an
tipathy. Poor fellow! how dreaded
to tell him of my approaching hap
piness. 1t would be great blow to
his hopes, for he had expected to in
herit my fortune.
Katie wasn't bit like other girls
that l had ever known anything
about. Instead of blushing at my
confession that afternoon, she turned
pale and shivered as if struck by g
sudden chill. / noticed, too, that
there was a strange quiver in hei
voice when she finally consented tc
be my wife.
| was apprehensive that Charlie
had told her what Anastasia had said
on her death-bed. And yet l could
not believe he would be so inconsid
crate. Somehow | couldn't forget
that warning. Anastasia was a re
markable woman, and would surely
keep her word, if ghosts are permit
ted to walk the earth. Thinking thus
began to grow frightened at the
shadows in my room, and hastily
rang the bell for lights.
"Why are you so late, Bridget?''
asked, sharply, as the servant en-
tered the room.
''Indeed, sir, and its meself that.
been with Miss Kate every blessed
minnit, and she's almost kilt with q
pain in her head"
Could this be the result of our con
versation this afternoon? Considera
bly, startled, / questioned Bridge
eagerly. Charlie came in while W
we're talking.
"Katie ill?" he said, with a shade,
on his brow. as it anything serious
uncle?'
What business had he to take an
special interest in Katie2
"Only a headache" I answered
coldly. ''She is subject to such al
taeks. Bring in the tea, Bridget.
"We shall have a lonesome even
ing" Charlie sighed.
l half believe that he was in Low
with the girl himself.