The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1878-03-28

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 colo
dew Of agony dripping from every limb,
the orphan girl lay and listened 10 this
evidence of treachery.
All at once board at the side Of the
bed creaked, as though 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 suffocatlng throb-
bings in her ears, the first crow Of some
neighboring chanticieer.
| 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 filed the pretty chamber.
All seemed peace and innocence around
her, but the soul Of the orphan girl was
filed with establishment.
She could scarcely arrange her
thoughts at first, so terrible was the Or
deal through which she had passed; but
at lesgth she saw that she must leave the
house Immediately; that she must relin-
quish both her affianced and her fortune,
il she would feel her life safe.
sob papa! my papa!" wept the poor
Dora 'you have made a terrible mis-
take!'
When she joined the family, in an
swer to the breakfast bell, she was in her
travelling dress, and her trunks were all
repacked.
"Why. cousin Dora, what is the matter?
Are you i'll, dearY" exclaimed Penelope,
in a soft, cooling voice, which seemed
habitual to her.
Dora turned her back on her midnight
visitor, and striving 70 speak calmly,
said to Mr.. Arlingford, Il wish to 90 to
London o-day, sir. Please allow some
one to drive me to the station"
There was \ 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 ten
der aboutit as Penelope.
"Just try us dear cousin!" she entreated
"Of course you will be lonely at first
every thing is so ditferent-but who will
make you happier than We can? Has any
body 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 quiet Mrs. Ar
lingford, here Ginning in anxiously, "it
is mad thing for you to think OF, child.
II most 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 woman
availed not, Mr.. Arlingford got offended,
and cried, "Let her please herself, Pessie.
Ring and order Sam to bring the car
rage round"
Dora swallowed a cup of tea, and chok-
ed down mOrsel of bread. and then she
went back to her room to put on her hat.
Locking her trunks took but few
moments
She flung herself upon a chair, and
wcpt sileEtly, feeling herself to be the
most desolate and friendless being GU the
face of the earth.
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 s:ch lodgings as the rem
nant 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 a
paper, just as it aroused her last night.
Dora gazed upon her like one bereft
of reason.
The large, old Bible lay quiet enough
and closed exactly where she had placed
1t-no living thing was in the room but
herself
And then she saw the whole mystery.
The window was partly open, and a
slight puff of wind had blown out the
crisp white curtains in the room; then re
ceding, had sucked them outward through
the aperture, while the imprisoned 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
the paper hanging.
Dora sat gxzing at the window, her
face, in its astounding thankfulaess, q
study Tor an artist.
At this moment Penelope came in. She
had been weeping.
"The carriage is ready, dear cousin
sighed she, tremulously.
Dora passed her hand over her FORE
head, then facing her rival, asked, in
hurried tone, "Were you up last night
any time, Miss Arlingfordr'
Yes, :" answered Penelope, in surprise:
"About four o'clock rose and shut nv
window. The wind was rising"
odd you hear cock crow as you did
so7'
eyes, did. Why do you ask, dear2"
Stay! know Why. You were frightened
by hearing board creak beside your bed;
| should have told you about that board;
how stupid of me.'
II heard the board crcak," said Dora,
SCARCELY believing her own ears.
ayes, it ought to be fastened down.
It runs the whole breadth of the house.
and when tread on one end of it in nv
room the other end creeks in this.
Listenv
She ran across the passage, shutting
the door after her, and in q moment the
vertiable creaking commenced, accompa-
MED by the clicking of the latch of the
door, which had SO petrlfied Dora.
When the young lady returned, the ex-
preston of her cousins features was so
nightly altered that she exclaimed:
"Why, my darling girl, I do think you
wanted to leave US because YOU thoueht
the house was haunted"
i@AI r.