The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1878-12-27

A perfect heroine is the name by which
| am known in Lincoln among my friends;
with it associate pride and shame.
am proud of the flattering prefix but
am ashamed, because | do not deserve it,
My conscience tells me l am one of the
most nervous, cowardly bodies in existence
Why, then, am l wrongfully called "per-
feet heroine 2" That has been my secret
I am about to make it no longer one, and
show how, by the veriest of foolish acts
gained not only the above title, but small
fortune.
1t was during the winter, many years
back, that / was invited to spend some
weeks at Colonel Henderson's, where was
ever welcomed as one of the family. Cir
cumstances caused me at first to refuse but
the obstacle being Unexpectedly removed,
retracted, and assured of n hearty recep-
ton, started for Lincoln.
On my arrival. however, 7 perceived a
slight embarrassment in the Hendersons'
greeting and charged myself with being de
tr0p.
my dear child. that you could never be"
remarked the old Colonel; "but the fact il,
we have had such an influx of guests, that
every apartment is occupied. Our own girls
are huddled into the garrets. Yet, if you
would not object, we would have a bed put
up in the housekeepers room, which is sell
| dom used"
was for flying back to town. rather than
create such inconvenience but they would
not hear of it, So, finally, consented to
the proposal, though with some internal
uuaking, when | remembered the chamber
was on the ground floor, away from the
other sleeping apartments. But there is a
| stronger feeling than fear-dread of ridi-
Guile. Therefore submitted, comforted by
:. the assurance that the Lloyds left in two
days, when should have their room.
The pleasant evening that ensued made
me forget the prospect of my solitary quar-
tiers; until, candles appearing, Nclla Hen.
derson 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 briefspace.
A bright fire burned in the CRATE, and it
would have been agreeable enough if it
had not been so lonely.
"You are sure you are not nervous, dear2"
asked Nella, kissing me.
mot in the least" | answered. all the
while longing for sufficient courage to con-
| less the truth, anu cntTeat 10 steep III any
corner upstairs rather than alone here.
Pride withheld me, and she departed.
| 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; then hurried to bed-but
not to sleep. The state of my nerves pre-
vented that, and laid awake, staring 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.
had, at last, fallen into doze-- when
was awakened by something moving in the
room; what, could not tell but it sound
ed like the patter of many little feet ther
the "shir" of articles being cautiously drag
ged here and there
Quaking in every limb, yet ventured tC
look around. The fire sert only dull, rec
glow into the room, reflected on the ceiling
all else was darkness visible. Icould SCI
nothing; yet the sound continued. Ther
the curtains of my bed rustled, as though
shadowy hands were drawing them. 1
was just the kind of old rambling hous
that might be the refuge of ghosts