Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1875-02-10
Aperfect heroine.


ciate pride and shame.
! am proud of the fiattering pre-
fix; but am ashamed because do
not deserve it. My conscience tell'
me am one of the most nervous
cowardly bodiesin existance. Why
then, am l wrongfully called
"perfect heroine"l That has beer
my secret. / am about to make il
no longer one, and show how, by
the veriest foolish acts, gained not
only the above title, but a small
fortune.
1t was during the winter, many
years back, that / was invited to
spend some weeks at Colonel Hen
derson's, where l was ever welcom-
ed as one of the family. Circum-
stances caused me at first to refuse,
but the obstacle being unexpected
ly removed, l retracted, and, assur-
ed of a hearty reception, started
for Lincoln.
On my arrival, however, / per-
ceived slight embarrassment in
the Henderson's greeting, and char
ged myself with being ode drop.
"My dear child, that you could
never be-" remarked the old Col
onel /; but the fact is, we have had
such an influx of guests, that every
apartment is occupied. Our own
girls are huddled into the garrets.
Yet, if you do not object, we would
have bed put up in the house.
keepers room, which is seldom
used.
/ was for flying back to town,
rarther than create such inconven-
fence; but they would not hear of
it. So, finally, I consented to the
proposal, though with some inter
nal quaking, when l remembered
the chamber was on the ground
floor, away from the other sleeping
apartments. But there was a strong
er feeling than fear-a dread of
ridicule. Therefore l submitted,
comforted with the assurance that
the Floyds left in two days, when
should have their rooms.
The pleasant evening that en-
sued made me forget the prospect
of my solitary quarters until, can
dies preparing, Nella Henderson
conducted me to my apartment.
We had to go through two long
passages to reach it; and / found
it had been made as comfortable
as possible in the brief space. A
bright fire burnt in the CRATE, and |
it would have been agreeable
enough if it had not been so very
lonely.
"You are sure You are not ner-
vous, dearl" asked Nella, kissing
me.
"Not in the least" I answered,
Ill the while longing for sufficient
to confess the truth, and
entreat to sleep in any corner up
stairs rather than alone here.
Pride withheld me, and she de-
parted. l listened to the last fall
Of her foot, locked the door, looked
under the bed, into the cupboard
searched every corner, l know not
how often f; then hurried to bed
but not to sleep. The state of my
nerves prevented that, and l laid
awake, starting at every crack of
the old furniture; listening to the
wind, which, in malice, had risen,
and moved, like stealthy fingers,
over the window panes.
l had at last fallen into a doze,
when l was awakened by some
thing moving in my room what, /
could not tell but it sounded like
the patter of many little feet then
The "shir" of articles being eau
.iously dragged here and there.
Quaking in every limb, l yet ,
'entured to look around. The ,
Ire sent only dull, red glow into [
he room, reflected on the ceiling I
III else was darkness visible. l =
could see nothing; yet the sound q
continued. Then the curtains of I
ny bed rustled, as though shadowy /
ands were drawing them. 1t was ,
nst the kind of old house that a
hight be the refuge of ghosts {
Vas that the reason the room was g
} seldom usedp h
A cold perspiration came over $
e. I covered my head with my a
low in involuntary dread, when h
,ruptly all was silent. However, a
e sounds were renewed, but al h