Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1878-05-29

rd was in her travelling dress, and hel
tn trunks were all repacked.
t. "Why, cousin Dora, what is the
matterl Are you i'll, dearl" ex
le claimed Penelope, in soft, cooling
voice, which seemed habitual &c
r. her.
Dora turned her back on hel
h midnight visitor, and striving to
n speak calmly, said to Mr.. Airing.
ford: 81 wish to go to London to-
i day, sir. Please allow some one to
y drive me to the station.
: There was pause of constern-
n alton, then they all of one accor d
g began to plead with her to change
!, her mind, and none of the three
were so urgent and tender about it
t as Penelope.
D "Just try us, dear cousin ~
D she entreated. "Of course yon
5 will be lonely at first-everything
r is so different-but who will make
! you happier than we can : Has any
body offended you, dear Doraf"
"No," answered Dora, shudder-
ing; "but l shall perfer living
alone"
"You are so young, so ignorant
of the ways of our towns" said
quiet Mrs. Arlingford, here chin
ing in anxiously, at is a mad thing
for you to think of, child"
81 must Co." responded the
orphan, averting her face that the
dark misery of it might not be
seen.
So, when the persuasions of him
self, and the pleadings and tears
of his women availed not, Mr..
Arlingford got offended, "Let her
please herself, Pensie. Ring and
order Sam to bring the carriage
round"
Dora swallowed a cup of tea, and
choked down a morsel of bread, and
then she went back to her room to
put on her hat.
Locking her trunk took but a
few moments.
She flung herself upon a chair,
and wept silently, feeling herself
to be the most desolate and friend
less being on the face of the earth.
What should she do in London
GO to her 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 sound which thrilled her
once more with awe.
The swish of a garment, the rus '
tie of paper, just as it aroused I
her last night. I
Dora gazed around like one
bereft of reason. n
The large old bible lay quiet o
enough and closed exactly where C
she had placed it-no living thing q
was in the room but herself.
And then she saw the whole n
mystery.
The window was partly opened, q
Ind a slight puff of wind had r.
blown out the crisp white curtains
n the room; then receding had e.
tucked them outward through the
Iperture, while the imprisoned air,
unning up the blind, had caused m
he tissue paper hanging at the OF
op to rustic. ST
There came another puff-the 81
rail Of the curtain over the carpet, W
he rustic of the paper hanging. 81
Dora sat gazing at the window,
er face, in its astonishing thank ie
ILLNESS, study for an artist. OF
AT this moment Penelope came W
D. She mad been weeping. &c
"Tbe carriage is ready, dear
ousin," sighed she TREMENDOUSLY.
Dora passed her hand over her
orehead, then facing her rival, ~
sked in hurried tone, "were WI
GU up last night any time, Miss W.
Z" ir'
"Yes,' answered Penelope, in
nrprise, "about four o'clock rose 'o'
nd closed my window. The wind
as rising"
"Did You hear cock crow as III
on did sof'
"Yes, did. Why do you ask, ;.
cart Stay. ! know why. You 8"
ere frightened by hearing board o.
'eak beside your bed; I should W
ave told you about that board
DIV stupid of me-"
act boo.l =. L~.-I tv uie