The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-03-16

the blood tingling to her heart
1t was like the trailing of long mus
lin robe over the thick carpet which GOV.
cred the floor, and cautious rustling OF
paper the one sound following the other
with the slow and regular monotony of a
machine
The night was at its darkest, and the
head of the bed was in an alcove, SC
that view of the room could not be
had; but Dora OWNED, with choking of
the breath, the meaning of the strange
sounds a
Penelope Arlingford was in the room
Before she retired, Dora had read a
chapter from large bible which Law on
her table.
She perfectly recollected placing it on
the end of the sofa near the window
when she had finished reading it.
She felt that her rival was on her knees
before that book, impregnating its leaves
with the volatile poison which Walter
Cary mad spoken of, and that as she fin
ished each leaf, and turned it slowly
over, her long muslin sleeve swept the
edge of the book, making the stealthy
! sounds which had aroused her intended
! victim.
Dora lay bound hand and foot by a
feeling which almost stopped the beating
of her heart.
Remember, she had grown UP amid
scenes of passion and violence; she had
been among the helpless ones at Gavin
pore, when the Sepoys massacred their
victims in cold blood; and death was not
! so strange weapon in the hands of a
| young girl, to her, as it would be to us;
nay, it seemed the one weapon by which
Penelope Arlingford would most likely
strike for love and wealth.
Motionless, her eyes distended, the
cold dew of agony dripping from every
limb, the orphan girl lay and listened to
this evidence of treachery.
All at once a board at the side of the
bed creaked, as though a wary foot was
passing over it, and the long swish of the
garments followed.
Then the door softly burst open as if
without hand, flow of air from the pas
sage rushed across the girls rigid face,
and she heard amid the sufocating throb-
bings in her ears, the first crow of some
neighboring chanticleer.
Her terror ended in swoon.
When she came to herself it was broad
daylight.
The golden sunshine was lying across
her pillow, and the perfumes of the red
honeysuckle came in through the open
window and filled the pretty chamber.
All seemed peace and innocence around
her, but the soul of the orphan girl was
filled with astonishment
She could scarcely arrange her thoughts
at first, so terrible was the ordeal through
which she had passed; but at length she
saw that she must leave the house imme-
diately; that she must relinquish both
her atfianced and her fortune, if she
would feel her life safe.
Oh, papal my papa," wept poor
Dora, you have made a terrible
mistake!"
When she joined the family, in answer
to the breakfast bell, she was in her trav-
cling dress, and her trunks were all re-
packed.
"Why, cousin Dora, what is the matter?
Are you i'll, dear?" exclaimed Penelope,
In a soft, cooling voice, which seemed
habitual to her
Dora turned her back on her midnight
visitor, and striving to speak calmly,
said to Mr.. Arlingford, +" wish to 60 to
London to-day, sir. Please allow some
one to drive me to the station"
There was a pause of CONSERVATION,
then they all with one accord began to
plead with her to change her mind, and
none of the three were so urgent and
tender about it as Penelope.
Just try us dear cousin." she en-
treated. "Of course you will be lonely
at first-every thing is 50 different-but
who will make you happier than we can?
Has anybody offended you, dear Dora?"
NO." answered Dora, shuddering;
" but / shall prefer to live alone"
You are so young, so ignorant of the
ways of our towns" said quite Mrs Ar
lingford, here Ginning in anxiously, cit
is mad thing for you to think of, child"
g / must CO." responded the orphan,
averting her pallid face that the dark
misery of it might not be seen.
So, when the persuasions of himself,
and the pleadings and tears of his women
availed not, Mr.. Arlingford got offended,
and cried, Let her please herself, Pensie.
Ring and order Sam to bring the ear
riage round"
Dora swallowed cup of tea, and
choked down a morsel of bread, and then
she went back to her room to put on
her hat
Locking the trunks took but few
moments.
She flung herself upon chair and
wept silently, feeling herself to be the
most desolate and friendless being on the
face of the earth. 4.
What should she do in London?
Go to fathers lawyer, and tell him
she did not wish to marry Walter Cary,
then live alone in such lodgings as the
remnant of her fortune could afford her.
All! it was, indeed, terrible mistake.
that clause in the will.
But into the midst of her musings
stole a sound which thrilled her once
more with awe.
The swish of garment, the rustic of
paper, just as it aroused her last night.
Dora gazed upon her like one bereft
of reason.
The large, old Bible lay quite enough
and closed exactly where she had placed
it-no living thing was in the room but
herself.
And then she saw the whole mystery.
The window was partly open, and
slight puff of wind had blown out the
crisp white curtains in the room; then
receding, had sucked them outward
through the aperture, while the impris-
oned air, running up the blind, had
caused the tissue-paper hanging at the
top to rustic.
There came another puff-the trail of
the curtain over the carpet, the rustic of