The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1880-11-25

she spoke again IN an abrupt way
81 should like to 60 down to that
stream-the Blackwater-to the bridge
and the willows"
"Not tonight q
eyes now"
laura, you are dreaming :"
81 believe So" she said with sigh.
81 have felt like one in a dream ever
since first caught sight of this place
to-day. It all seems so familiar-even.
this room. l wish l could awaken, for
it is not pleasant A sort of horrible
shadow seems to me to brood over this
place, especially over the bridge and
those willows"
"Then why should you wish to go
there p 1 inquired.
81 don't know. Do you never have
impulses that you feel compelled to obey
against your own will =
"Never."
81 do, often and then l don't feel
like myself 1t IL as though another
spirit were within me, urging me on"
"Absurd !" l began to feel somewhat
inpatient at her weakness
II know it is foolish, yet cannot
help it | wish l could" she sighed.
1t had been Judge BIS inten ton to
remain but few days in Blackwater,
vet sudden and violent rainy spell,
such as at certain seasons these regions
are subject to, protracted our stay. The
roads were impossible, we were told, and
the streams overfowed everywhere.
Laura wandered dreamily about the
house. and talked but little yet once
or twice a remark of hers struck both
Mrs. Whiting. and myself-especially
when once in our own room, turning
suddenly to the wall behind her, she
said
at seems to me that there ought to
DE "a door here; that there has been
one"
"My father walled up the door before
was born, replied Mrs. Whiting. 81
suppose Aunt Alma mentioned it to
you"
Laura made no reply, yet | knew that
Aunt Alma, the old negress who attend
ed on us, had not given her any such in
formation.
On the day following the rain ceased
as suddenly as it had come on, and The
sun shone out fitfully. Laura was
+;rAd of tho confinement of the house,
and despite remonstranoAs concerning
damp and taking cold, she wrapped her.
self in a shawl, donned rubber over
shoes and strolled down to the bridge.
Mrs. Whiting watched her moment
from the window
Her father said she did not person
ally resemble any of our family-of the
Writings, l mean; but think she does,
and very strongly. 1t is strange how
family likeness will show itself, even
after the lapse of several generations
Come up stairs with me, my dear; l
have something to show you"
She led the way to gloomy attic,
where, pulling out from a heap of dis
carded furniture tattered canvas on a
broken frame, she brought it to the
window, and carefully wiInng off the
thick dust, she turned it to the light.
"Wonderful !" was my involuntary
exclamation "Why, it is Laura-Laura
herself =
Zone would think so. The features,
the color of the hair eyes, and pale
dark complexion--but most OF all, |
think, something strange and dreamy in
the expression-these are all the counter
parts of Laura &.
1t was so. The resemblance grew
more upon me as looked.
"This is the portrait of Ionoria Whit
ing, daughter If the Whiting who built
this house, sort of black sheep in the
family Here ! wondered if she was
aware that she was using the words that
Judge B-had playfully applied to
his daughter. IL know nothing Of the
particulars, however. My parents never
spoke of her in discussing our family
history. The picture has been, as long
as can remember, slowed away in this
room, with one or two others in an
equally dilapidated condition. We have
q good deal of rubbish here and there,
you perceive; worn-out cabinets, broken
china, chests full of old crumbling man.
uscrips-the accumulated rubbish of
more than century. have sometimes
thought of burning them all. but my
husband has sort Of reluctance to such
q step l suppose it will be done, how
Al -.--o. W. ~k:1l