The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1877-04-12
Papa's Strange Guest.

1t was warm June evening, and
my father and mother and were seat
ed In our drawing room, with the
long doors leading on to the lawn
thrown open, to admit the air. I was
sitting at my bureau, examining some
of my jewelry, which I kept there,
when the door opened, and NJ. Mention
(friend of my fathers staying with
us at the time) entered. He was a
French Canadian, rather a fine looking
man, but a man never liked ; there
was look in his black, beady eyes
which, to me, was at once repulsive
and distrustful. He looked curiously
at me, and approached.
"Mademoiselle is busy ?'' he asked.
eyes," I replied shortly.
My father and mother had dropped
asleep, so, much to my disgust, NJ.
Mention took up his station on chair
by my side. l say disgust, because 1
loathed the man ; his politeness always
seemed to me unreal.
"Mademoiselle has some fine Jewels, :"
he remarked, presently taking between
his finger and thumb handsome
brooch and rubies.''
Gail Of this jewelry is not mine," I
answered, "Most of it belongs to my
mother.''
Soon after tea was announced after
which meal NJ. Mention and my father
adjourned to the latter's study, to talk
on business, and my mother and I re-
turned to the drawing room.
I had finished putting away the Jew
elry in the bureau, but had not shut or
locked it. when I turned to my mother.
'What is this business that so often
keeps NJ. Mention and papa closited to-
.gether?' I inquired.
''Some money matters, my DEAR re-
turned my mother.
SIS papa in any difficulty p IN
quired !anxiously.
'NO, no; but, between ourselves,
Louisa, think Monsieur Mention has
some heavy bills due, which I fancy he
cannot pay; but if he expects that
your father can help him, he is griev.
ously mistaken"
My mother took up a book and com.
menced to read, whilst l went over to
the piano and played.
In about half an hour, our visitor
and my father entered the room, the
latter again taking up his station on a
chair by my side, as close as he pos
sibly could. Song after song he made
me sing; and, much as | would have
liked to, could not, with common
ciyility, refuse.
1t was ten o'clock when rose from
the piano and prepared to retire to my
room. I shut my bureau and locked
it, kissed my father and mother, and
bade Monsieur good night.
It was about half-past one, when
was awakened from light sleep by
hearing a stealthy footstep in the cor
ridor outside my room. 1t approached
my door, the person, whoever it might
be, walking softly and cautiously, as if
fearful of disturbing me. Who could
it be! My first impulse was to jump
out of bed and see; but was of tim.
id nature, and imagined burglars and
all sorts of horrible things, so I re-
mained still, listening with suspended
breath.
Presently the handle of my door was
turned. Oh, heavens! felt paralyzed.
A man entered my room with small
dark lantern in his hand, and, after
pausing for moment, slowly ap-
preached the bed. had just sufficient
presence of mind to shut my eyes and
feign sleep as he bent over me. I felt
that he had turned the light full on
my face; his breath famed my cheek.
My heart beat to suffocation; and
felt that if the ordeal lasted much
longer, I could not control myself, and
should scream or faint.
Happily, however, the next moment
the light was withdrawn, and my noe.
turnal visitor left the room.
I heard the footsteps pass along the
corridor, and descend the stairs lead
ing to the drawing-room. Then it
flashed upon me, thought had locked my
bureau containing my jewelry, I had
not taken away the key.
have remarked that by nature
was timid; but, at this juncture,
felt as brave as lion, and, springing
from my bed, threw on my dressing
gown, and went out to the head of the
stairs.
I paused, A dreadful fsar came