The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1881-06-25

L ol WcIo lHuecu HlSldkcn. NO man
could help admiring her bat believe me,
beyond admiration have never never given
her thought"
The rest of the evening sped swiftly by.
If had been happy before, .. was ten times
happier now. l danced every dance, and
at supper Rupert fcontrlved to secure Sc
cluded corner, where he detained me 80
long that mortally offended ono partner
who sought me high and low in vain.
was to remain at Holme Lodge, and 20
home the next day, nurse having every
thing requisite for my stay, and placed
ready before she returned.
Having exchanged my ball dress for a
comfortable drcssing-go and my satin
shoes for furlined slippers, 1 sat by the
fire in my bedroom, dreaming bright
dreams, and weaving fairy fancics. l
loved aud was beloved Was not that the
height of human bliss Could any other
joy compare with it Truly 1t is written:
There nothing half SO sweet in life,
AS loves young dream,
1t was long ere l got into bed, but once
there | fell into slumber, and neither
memories of the past nor pains of the future
disturbed it,
Suddenly awoke with full, sure con-
ciousncss of the presence of some one or
something terrible in the room. Who q
what it was could not tell, and l dared
not to attempt to find out. lay with my
lace turned to the wall, every limb stiff
and still, and the blood in my veins curd-
ling with fear.
at last an icy finger touched me and as
though under some mcsmeric influence, l
slowly moved my head.
The fire had died out, but night-lamp
was dimly burning, and by its light l saw
Il saw loosely-robed figure, with a
cloud of raven hair falling almost to its
knees luridly glowing eyes, set in q death
ly pallid face e; and IN one appraised hand q
cleaning stiletto--jewelcd' handled and
finely pointed.
l could utter no cry y; could make no
movement. l remained spellbound and
dumb, my eycballs staring and ing lips
blanching, knowing that l was at the
mercy of a mad woman, and recognizing
in that mad woman Isabella Saloni.
Again she touched me and though
shuddcrcd could not draw away.
''You sleep soundly, she said, "but you
have awakened at last. The sleep of death
is the soundest of all sleeps, for there is no
awakening from it Aud so he told you
he loved you you not me What do you
know Of love Whit does he know of love2
1t is who love-I-I-T and her voice rose
shrill and high. am going to kill on |"
she continued, after moments pause.
"He cannot love you then. He will for
get you, and then 1t will be my turn.
But tho spell was broken. With a
piercing, echolng cry for help, flung aside
the bed clothing and sprang On to the
floor.
There came sharp fierce blow, an
agonizing pam, and then darknes', obliv-
ion.
1t was twilight when came to my SEN
scs. The curtains were drawn, and a bright
fire crackled cheerfully in the crate.
Vaguely wondering as to what had hap
pencd, attempted to sit up, but the only
effect of the eXertion was low moan of
anguish.
a gentle voice addres sscd me soothingly
and Mrs. Morton leaned over me, and slip
ping her arm under the pillow, lifted me up,
and gave me some cooling beverage to
drink. l fell asleep directly, and when ]
awokc again gray days light was creeping
in at the window, and nurse was sitting by
my side.
''rhank hcavcnI' she calculated fer.
vently as l fcebly raised my hand. "Ah
but you're better now, my lamb"
"Have been Ill 2" l whispered.
GA little, dearic," she answered, ten ler-
ly strolsing my hair.
"But-but what was it2 Why am
not at homc2"
"IIushl my pretty. You mustn't talk
any more now. Lie still, and another time
you shall hear all about it,
"Ah, mel What weary days, what
weary weeks, those were That had to lie
still. Waking and sleeping was haunted
by half delirlous visions of that dreadful
night. l could not bear to oc left alone for
evon few minutes. A fitting shadow in
the corner fold of drapcry, would nearly
send me into Mysteries.
At last when the birds were blythelv
carolling welcome to the spring, and lr.es
and hcdgerows were bursting into leaf
was carried from my bed to sofa in the
adjoining room, and from that time rccov-
cry was more rapid.
Harvest was just over when Rupert and
l were quietly married at the village
church. The Winter following we spent
abroad. Papa joining us at Nice in Octo-
ber, accompanying us on the remainder of
our travels.
Isabella Saloni Is IN a private asylum near
neal London. Insanity it appeared On in
quiry, hereditary in her family, though the