Daily Kennebec journal., 1884-03-19
mrsetllane0ns.
The CoxPAN1oN's STORY.
(Coatinuued from yesterday J


(Coatinuued from yesterday
She caught up one of the silver candle
sticks from the table and went before me
through the dark passage. holding it high
above her head. Its light fell on the red
gold of her hair, whose lustre seemed to
brighten the dim house as she passed
through it. It seemed long way. Up
stairs. along passages hung with old por-
traits that seemed to frown on us as we
went bv: then down few more stairs;
another passage, door. short flight OF
steps, and we were in one of the daintiest
little bowers had ever beheld. Every
pleasant device, every charming arrange
ment that modern decorative art could
suggest, were here in perfection, and IN
strongest contrast to the massive antique
grandeur OF the rest of the house. had
hardly time, however. to take in more than
the tout-ensemble of the room, for Isabel
caught me by the arm and hurried me
through the door on the other side of the
bedroom. and into litde boudoir furnish
ed with the same taste that characterized
the room we had just left. Fresh flowers,
cages of singing birds. plenty of books
and needlewerk lying about. Here l
thought, ..she surely keeps her work"
But no, she still hurried me on. The door
of third room stood open and through
it we passed into a chamber the fac-simile
of the one we had first entered. Only,
whereas the other had been neat, this was
disordered-rich laces. flowers and fan
living strewn on toilet tables and floor :on
ly. whereas the other seemed empty of
human presence, this did not only. where
hn- l.ttla xuhifo had
smooth, and impressed this was occupied.
Isabel led me to the bedside. Before
US Law what seemed so like herself that |
glanced at her to assure myself that she
was standing by my side and not lying be-
fore my eyes.
The figure on the bed was dressed in
balldress of white satin and rich lace loop
ed up with great wreaths of water-lilies
and grasses. Her hair. which now saw
to be fairer than Isabe's, fell over the pill
low in heavy curls that almost touched the
floor. The eyes had vacant stare, but
they were the gray eyes of Isabel the
cheeks had a deadly palior, but they had
also the rounded contour of Isabel's.
Over the neck and bust was thrown thick
white lace scarf.
A growing horror held me rooted to the
spot. | could neither speak nor move. for,
let me say it at once. the face before me
had on 1t the plain signet of death.
stood waiting for what should come, and
this is what did come.
The girl beside me whispered low in
my ear:
There Is it not lovely? Look. Frances
Graham, this is my work" She drew
the lace from the throat and bosom of
the body on the bed, and minute alter
threy the candlestick wildly from her,
and. as darkness fell on the room, broke
into peal after peal of ear-piercing, terri
Bile laughter But between the withdrawal
of that lace and the coming of that dark
ness was clear moment. and in that mo-
ment. | saw most plainly, most unmis-
takably, all that the scarf had hidden. On
that snowy bosom were dark crimson
stains. and across that soft throat was a
deep red cash.
Then material night deepened to mental
darkness, and there came merciful blank