The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1882-01-27

Der there befell what was to me an awful
calamity. Miss Screven did not write.
sent imploring letter after letter, but
no response gladdened me.
HAS she Tilted your" said Uncle
Dick. heartlessly, when he noted my
pale face. In truth, could not sleep
nor eat / was consumed with fear and
anxiety. What could have befallen
her?
endured it just ten days, and then I
packed my sachel and went to Boston.
Bah what day it was when / got
there. 1t had showed little, and then
thin, cold rain began to drizzle down
despairingly. The weather suited mo
better than the garish splendor of the
hvtel, and 1 wandered forth that even.
ing, half-unconsciously vending my way
toward the street in which Miss Screven
boarded. found myself opposite the
house. From an upper window light
struggled feebly between the closed
shutters and thrilled me through and
through. Perhaps she was there, i'll
and alone, uncared for, save by the mer-
cenary landlady, or, worse still, by a
slatternly servant. went up the steps
and rang the bell. A slip of girl
opened the door to me, anu 1 handed
her my card, saying mechanically, "Ask
Miss Screven if she will see me.
l trusted that the name John Bell
would, perhaps, lead her to suppose that
was cousin or the father of her
friend.
The slip of servant-maid looked at
the card, and then looked at me.
Frances Screven?" she said, interroga-
lively. t
eyes," 1 replied. Then 1 took the
card, ran my pencil through the en-
graved name, and scrawled my iliegible
signature below it. The servant took
the card again and skurried away, leav-
ing me standing alone In the cold, dark
entry.
1t was several minutes before she re-
appeared, and then it was only to say in
a singing tone, "Three flights up; first
door to the right"
went up the three flights, and raped
at the first door to the right.
A voice called out, "Come in"
1 entered a medium sized, plainly
furnished room that was redolent of to-
bacco. with which was mingled faint
smell of whisky. There were two arm
chairs, large table covered with a
faded cloth, and an old-fashioned horse
hair lounge, from which, as L entered, a
young man rose. He was thin and hol-
low-eyed, and beard of several days
growth made him look, to say the least,
unkempt "Mr. Bell, I presume" Re
said, offering me his hand, and then
drawing up chair for me.
81 have called to see Miss Screven,"
said l.
Have you, indeed? ?" he replied, in q
nasty, sneering way.
1t flashed through me at once. It
was her husband She has deceived
me
May I ask if you are any relation to
Miss Jane Bell, of Dundas, Washing
ton county, n. Y, Postoffice box 1922"
he continued, in the same sneering way.
/ suffered and stammered, tried to
lie, and nearly choked myself to death.
1 wanted to be diplomatic / wanted to
shield her from his anger.
"Who the devil are you, anyway ?"
he exclaimed.
"I-I am John Bell" answered !;
"and have called to see your sister.
Is she ill ?"
81 haven't any sister," said he nom
chalantly; "that is, 1 am my own Sis
ter, and she has just escaped pneumonia. I"
The truth flashed upon me. "You
are an impostor, sir" L exclaimed.
g Your sister doesn't think So" said
he complacently.
CT haven't any sister," said /, in my
turn.
He wheeled sharply about "Who is
Miss Bell, then?"
81 am all the Miss Bell that exists"
1 answered grimly.
"What !" he exclaimed, "you are the
petted darling who wanted to be a poet
and an essayist and Lord only knows
what ali? You are the only child of
wealthy parents? You are the lovely
creature who sits in pink boudoir and
writes verses with gold pen and on per-
fumed paper?"
EYES," said desperately.
Screven dropped into chair and
roared. ga sell all round |" said he.
And then he laughed until he cried,
while 1 quietly stole away back to the
hotel, sadder but wiser man.