San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-09-14

bot. with a little hickCTing smile. Dora
Talbot seldom smiles. having learned
by experience that her delicate face
looks prettier in rlpuSn. Come, then,
Sir Adrian" she adds. let us enter
your enchanted castle
The servants by this time have taken
in all their luggage-that is us much as
they have been able to bring in the car
riage; and now the two ladies walk up
to the steps and enter the hall. their
host beside them.
Mrs. Talbot. who has recovered her
spirits little, is chattering gayly, and
mOnOpoliZing Sir Adrian To the best of
her ability, whilst Miss Delmaine is
strangely silent, and seems lost in a
kind of pleased wonder as she gaZes
upon all her charming surroundings.
The last rays of light are streaming
in through the stained-glaSS windows,
rendering the old hall full of myster-
ious beauty. The grim warriors in their
coats of mail seem, to the entranced
gaze of Florence Delmaine, to be max
ing ready to spring from the inches
which hold them.
Waking from her dream as she reach
es the foot of the stone staircase, she
says abruptly, but with "A lovely smile
playing round her mouth
Surely, Sir Adrian, yOu have ghost
in this beautiful old place, or a secret
staircase, or at least bOgv of some
sOrt2 Do not spoil the romantic look
of it by telling me you have no tale of
terror to impart, no history of gh0stly
visitant who walks these halls ut the
dead of night"
I'VE have no ghost here, | am sorry
to say" answers Sir Adrian, laughing.
| 10 I u i.ytP oil nd
ashamed that it should be 50. We can
only boast haunted chamber; but
there are certain legends about it, am
proud to say, the bare narration of
which would make even the stOutest
quail"
Good graciOus-hOw distinctly I'M
| PLEASANT eXclaimS Mrs. Talbot, with
nervous and very effective shudder.
"How distinctly delicious, you meant"
puts in Miss Delmaine. "Sir Adrian,
Is this chamber anywhere near where
shall sleepY"
"Oh, no; you need not be afraid of
thatP answers Dynecourt hastily.
II am not afraid" said the girl sauci-
ly. Il have all my life been seeking an
adventure of some sort. l am tired of
my prosaic existence. want to know
what jewellers in the shadowy realms
|
dear Sir Adrian, do urge her not
to talk like that; 1t is positively
wicked" pleads Dora Talbot, glancing
at him beSeechingly.
Miss Delmaine, you will drive Mrs.
Talbot from my house if you persist in
| your evil courses" says Sir Adrian,
laughing again. "Desist, pray you'll"
Are you afraid, DOra% asks Flor
eace merrily. Then keep close to me.
can defy all evil spirits, l have spells
and charms"
"You have indeed" puts in Sir Ad-
rian, in a tone so low that only she can
hear it. And, knowing this, you
should be merciful."
| Though she cannot hear what he
says, yet Mrs. Talbot can see he is adj
dressing Florence, and marks with
some uneasiness the glance that passes
| from his eyes to hers. Breaking quick
| " into the conversation. she says tim
| idly, laying her hand on her hosts
arm
This shocking room you speak of
| will not be near miner"
in another wing altogether" Sir
| Adrian replies reassuringly. Indeed
| 1t is so far from this part of the castle
that one might be safely incarCerated
there and slowly starve to death with
| out any one of the household being a
| bit wiser. 1t is in the north wing in
the old tower, a portion of the building
that has not been in use for over fifty
years"
81 breathe again" says Dora Talbot
affectedly.
Il shall traverse every inch of that
| old tOwer-haunted room and all-be-
fore am week older" declares Flor
ence defantly. After which she smiles
at Adrian again, and follows the maid
up the broad staircase to her room.
By the end of the week many other
visitors had been made welcome at the
castle; but none perhaps gave so much
pleasure to the young barOnet as Mrs.
Talbot and her cousin.
Miss Delmaine, the only daughter
and heiresS of an Indian nabob, had
taken London by storm this past sea-
son; and not only the modern Babylon,
| but the heart of Adrian DynecOurt as
well. She had come home to England
on the death of her father about two
| years ago; and, having no nearer rela-
| tives alive, had been kindly received
| by her cousin, the Hon. Mrs. Talbot,
who was then living with her husband
in pretty house in Mayfair.
Six months after Florence Delmaine's
arrival, George Talbot had succumbed
| to virulent fever; and his widow, up
| on whom a handsome jointure had
been settled, when the funeral and the
| necessary law worries had come to an
| end, had intimated to her young cousin
| that she intended to travel for year
upon the Continent, and that she would
| be glad, that is-with an elaborate sigh
she would be degree less miserable,
| if she, Florence would accompany her.
This delighted Florence. She was
wearied with attendance on the sick,
| having done most of the nursing of the
Hon. George, while his wife lamented
| and slept; and, beside, she was still
sore at heart for the loss of her father.
The years abroad passed swiftly; the
end of 1t brought them to Paris once
more, where, feeling that her time Of
mourning might be decently terminal
ed, Mrs. Talbot had discarded her SOM
| Der robes and put herself into the
hands Of the most fashionable dress
maker she could find.
Florence, too, discarded mourning for
| the first time, although her father had
been almost two years in his quiet
grave amongst the Hills; and, with her
| cousin, who was now indeed her only
| friend, if slightly uncongenial, decided
| to return to London forthwith. q.
1t was early in May, and, with sem
sation of extreme and most natural
| pleasure, the girl looked forward to a
few months passed amongst the best
of those whom she had learned under
her cousins auspices to regard as
society"
Dora Talbot herself was not by any
means dead to the thought that It
| would be to her advantage to introduce
into society girl well-born and pos