St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1884-09-06
THE FACE IN THE GLASS.

THE FACE IN HE GLASSs
Twas called by telegram from my
1Sfice one day to visit an uncle who was
dying.
He had never even acknowledged my
existence He was ''Mr. Worth, who
owns that fine mansion over there,
while was simply--or my small sign
declared me to be - Henry Worth,
Md"
The "M.D.'' was my only wealth,
station or honor. In fact, when a
young physician first puts out his sign
that IS about all he possesses, save the
small stock of knowledge which he has
carried until himself and pocketbook
are exceedingly below par
It was no short distance between my
city home and my uncle's. Fully one
hundred and sixty miles interviewed. and
it was evening before the train slowed
ny. at the village of Dare.
| alighted with one or two others, and
looked around for some person from the
esCasrle'' (as my uncfe's home, was
<called). found an 1rishman waiting,
who, after long parley to be sure L
was the right person, told me oget into
the coach. s
: We must have ridden a mile and a
half when we turned into the Castle
grounds.
I could not make out the place very
well, for it had grown dark in the ap-
preaching night. We turned into a
dong drive, and far back from the main
thoroughfare stopped before the door OF
a dark stone mansion.
Not light was visible save a dim one
in the hall, which could be seen through
-the colored glass transom.
The coachman drove around to the
STABLES, while I passed up the marble
stops and sounded the brass knocker.
What noise it did make. 1t seemed
as though every part of the house had
AN echo and trembled at the concus-
sion.
For some time T was kept waiting
outside: but at length the slow foot
steps of some one coming to the door
could be heard. Then came the sound
,of bolts being thrown back, and then
the door opened.
Who was it?
A woman from the looks Of the dress.
Yes; it was Woman-an old, Wrinkled,
wicked-looking woman, who reminded
me of one of the witches in Shakes
peare's Macbeth y
"What do you want?" was demand
ed in TREMENDOUSLY high tone.
s.My name is Worth, from R
city; nephew to Robert WORTH" / re-
piled.
ssCome in, was all she said, and !
was ushered into the hall.
followed her along the hall uptil we
reached door that was slightly aiar.
'.You may remain here until | ac-
quaint master of your arrival, she
said, and left me to myself.
A fire burned dimly in the old-fash-
toned CRATE at the other end of the
spacious parlor. Two wax candles
burned in the chandelier. The room
was furnished in manner that de-
,clared the owner to be man of taste,
refinement and wealth. Paintings hung
upon the walls in such numbers that
one imagined himselfto be in the studio
of some great artist.
The window-shutters were all closed
and seemed not to have been opened to
admit the sunlight for years.
stood in the center of this room Tor
some time bordering over my strange
adventure.
Robert Worth was my fathers own
brother. In early life they had quar-
relied and ever since were known to
each other as enemies. This accounted
for the 'sprecarious" relationship that
had existed between us. Robert Worth
had never married, and up to the time
he had sent for me on his death-bed ]
had never seen and seldom heard his
name mentioned in connection with
any own.
Three pictures in the room took my
attention, and one of them | was sure
" that of my uncle. 1t must have
been painted when he was about TWEEN
ty-fve years old. There was great
resemblance between him and my
father. There was the same piercing
eye; the heavy black eyebrows che