The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1886-12-24

lhac VI Miss eIliS VeHcHuHt lOr uanuSOlne
Cecil Leighton. Miss Ferris was not
beauty. She had thin, nervous face,
fluffy, colorless hair, and very wide, open
eyes, that her enemies called green.
''Welcome, Sir Cecil! We scarcely
dared hope for you before Christmas. In
Productions are unnecessary, 1 believe.
But stay! Sir Cecil Lighton- my cou-
sin, Miss Ferris.
Geraldine, still standing under the
chandeliers flooding light, bowed grave
ly.
A quick flash of admiration leaped in
to his eyes.
How pretty she looked, in those gray,
trailing robes, with the vivid dash of
scarlet at the throat and hairl How pref
ty!
81 am very happy to meet Miss Fer
ris, "said quietly.
But there was quizzical look in his
dark eyes, a queer twitchiug around the
wcll-cut lips.
At eleven they all trooped off to bed,
worn out with the days exertion.
Geraldine, standing at the foot of the
stairs, looked up with rogish eyes.
"Please, some onc," pathetically,
"bring some sal-volatile for poor Mr..
Redden. He looks exhausted"
"Fact," the young Londoner opposite
murmured, langudly. "Quite used up.
Hardest days work ever had"
II believe you~ so cmphatically, they
all laughed, and Mr.. Rcdden wondered
vaguely if that pretty little Irish girl
could have meant anything.
Halfway up the stairs she heard an ex-
clamation of dismay:
"We've forgotten the mistletoel'
'Never mind" some one answered ;"it
will do in the morning."
But, sitting by her dressing-room fire,
half an hour later, her loose hair falling
round her like mantle, her shining
eyes looking dreamily into the glowing
Goals, the force of habit never to leave
to-night's work till tomorrow ovcrcame
her. So, thrusting her little bare feet
into her slippers, she took up her night
lamp, opened the door and ran lightly
down the stairs.
II saw the mistletoe lying on the hal
table, and the step-ladder and twines are
just where they left them. Huldah will
be glad in the morning to find it done
And moment later she was perched
half way up the ladder, in the great, old,
shadowy hall. Such an odd, pretty pic
ture IN the greenery and gloom, with her
snowy drcssing-gown of cashmere and
swansdown trailing about her, the loose
sleeves falling away from the white, up
lifted arms that shower of golden brown
hair ripping over her shoulders.
Five minutes later, some one leaned
over the banisters above, only to draw
back with Mortified gasp and shocked
face. There was cautious opening and
shutting of doors, few magical, whis-
pcred words spread from lip to lip, and
then every corridor in the manor seemed
full of stealing, noiseless spectres.
They were all moving toward the grand
stairway.
"You're share, Huldah"
positive! A perfect stranger. 1t is
shockingw
But her heart was beating with exulta-
ton.
Noao would her cousin be banished2
Now would she be Caspar Ferris heiress2
Dear Uncle Caspar-lookr
Half dozen pairs of curious eyes
pccped over the banisters, and saw
A great hall in shadow, save for the
light of a small lamp. In the centre of
the apartment a stcp-ladder. Half way
up, slight, white, fairy figure. Direct
ly overhead, great bunch of mistletoe.
Below, his head not quite reaching her
shoulder, young mana very hand
some young man--Sir Cecil Lighton.
He was holding one Of the girls hands
tightly in his own. Her bright hair
dropped over his shoulder
"Oh-hp from the stairway spectrcs.
An irrcpressible young lady, changing
the first line to suit the occasion, MUIR
INJURED, mischicvously:
'Over the step-ladder bends face
Darling, sweet and beguiling;
Somebody stands in careless grace
And watches tho picture smiling"
''You will keep it secret2 You won't