Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1880-08-27
HAUNTED.

You ask me whose portrait that is
hanging over the mantle just where the
warm fire-fashes can so changefully
tinge itP Was there ever a sweeter face?
And yet it scarcely does justice to the
original. I think her eyes were of an
even wistfuler and tenderer blue than
the artist has there rendered them, and
her hair of q softer, warmer gold.
She was my only sister, Pamela, three
years older than l. All, you see, don't
you, that 1 have grown pale during these
few momentsP Ever since you came
here, Miss Harris, as governess to my
Bessie, l am sure that you have felt con-
vinced of our complete happiness as a
loving and united family.
Well, you are right-at least, nearly
right. Surely l ought to be the happiest
of them all, with q husband who wor-
ships me and with four charming chill
dren whose rosy arms wreath my neck so
often. Perhaps my bliss would be per-
feet, Miss Harris, but for one miserable,
childish memory, 1t is a haunting ghost
that will never, never leave me. Take
my hand, and hold it in yours while /
tell the old sad story here amid the gath
ering twilight.
My father was what people call hard
man. Pamela and | were bis only two
children; mother had died when 1 was
born. About twice year father would
inspect the doings of a chief overseer on
our great farm; nearly all his time was
taken up in reading and scholarly pur-
suits. He was imperious and dictatorial
to Pamela and myself; l think that we
both tried hard to love him, but gave up
the task in silent despair long before
either of us became any age.
He was an aristocrat in tastes and the
ories, used to be very proud of his old
Knickerbocker name, Van Horn, and
would sometimes say to Pamela, after
she had grown to be a young lady:
Before long, my daughter, you must
go to New York and see little of metro.
politan society. myself will take YOU
with dignifed stifening of his tall,
emaciated figure). "All my relations
and there are quite a number of these
among the best people in New York
would at once pay their respects to u.s.
Again and again father would speak
this way to my sister; and at first PANE.
las face flushed with expectant pleasure
but after while she treated these majes.
tic promises as the mere empty air that
they merrited being considered. Per.
haps, too, after she met George Conroy
her desire to get glimpse of New York
society underwent marked charge.
He was handsome young artist, who
had come to spend the summer in the
neighboring village, and fill his portfolio
with sketches of our charming surround
ing scenery. Pamela met him at the
house of a certain friend in the village
whom she often visited. suppose these
two young people had become attached
to each other before / even found out tue
fact OF their acquaintance. When | die
make my discovery, it was only to pelt
poor Pamela with perfect storm of rail
lery, for must now record that | was
at fifteen years old, perhaps one of the
most mischievous young hoidens anG
vixens that it would be easy to find.
Pamela did not dare tell father how
cruelty | treated her, and so complete
was the awe in which she stood of him
and her fear lest merely to mention tht
word clover" in his hearing might make
him overwhelm her with wrath, tha
through many weeks after her engage
ment to George Conroy they two helC
clandestine meetings together. l sa.
engagement" for surely when two
young hearts offer pure, sincere love t.
each other, the betrothal contract ough
not to need other ratification.
On discovering that Pamela met Georg
Conroy secretly, | was filled with al
overmastering amusement. In my eyes
at that period, there was nothing OF
earth quite so humiliating as to be ''il
love-" Doubtless the witticisms O
which / made my poor, meek sister tn
object were very silly. At that time
thought them excessively good, and wa
never tired of multiplying them. Wit
what patience Pamela bore all the rude
giggled things that said to her Once
made the important discovery that the
used to meet, in the summer evenings
some time after sunset, at a certain grea
willow-tree "a sort of immemorial lanC
mark about that portion of the country
and walk together.
Gracious, PAM" jeeringly question
ed, ''how do you ever manage to pass til
haunted orchard after nightfallp"
My sister gave little shiver.
"Well, Gertrude" she answered, he
itatingly, ''it is hard. Sometimes
turn cold from head to foot whilst II
hurrying by. OF course, my reason tel
me that the story about that murdert
woman's ghost haunting it is perfect
ridiculous; and yet, for the life of me,
can't control my nervousness"