Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1889-12-09

Mrs. Brand had decided upon her refus-
ing any invitation for this one night at
least. She should go to bed early, so
would Mrs. Brand-the whole household,
indeed, should retire at an abnormally
early hour, and Grant,, who was ac-
quainted with all these circumstances
and arrangements, was forbidden to call
after six O'Clock.
Boom = boom -boom-goes the big
clock somewhere. Millicent, as though
disturbed by it, turns uneasily in her bed
and, as growing consciousness gains on
her, signs deeply. Alasl there are many
reasons why she, the petted debutante of
the year, should sigh profoundly Her
body, indeed, is well (this seems rather a
grievance than otherwise), but her heart
is sick and sore within her Oh! the
horror of having to marry Grant, while
her affection is all concentrated on
anotherl And yet, to lose her inherit
ANGEL To a girl trained as she has been
as hundreds of others are trained
such a consideration is paramount. To
be cast from her throne, to be discarded
by her world, to sink from a comparative
supremacy to sure mediOcrity lin that
lies the sting.
If only the matter could be altered,
and arranged for her on lines according
to her own hking She had thought of
appealing to her aunt-had even limited
dear to her as he should be. But Mrs.
Brand had pooh-poohed all such hints as
being mere girlish folly, AID had told her
that in time she would find her cousin
was far above the average of the young
men she met, and that they had good
reason to believe defunct title, that had
once belonged to branch of their fam
lily, would be revived in his favor.
How quiet the night has grown! Even
in the heart of this surging London, it
seems as though time of rest can reign;
the stir, the roll of the odd carriage or
two only enhances the extreme deafness
of the calm. Millicent turns YEARLY upon
her pillow, and tries with passionate
anxiety 20 forget her woes in sleep. In
vain she courts the wished for Slumber;
in vain she seeks to kill her cruel
thoughts. Still they remain with her,
growing ever more persistent as wake
fulness grows upon her. Impatient, and
angry with herself, and finding the night
insufferably warm, she half pushes the
bedclOtheS from her, with the intention
of rising and flinging wide her window,
when a slight noise in the adjoining room
arrests her attention.
Is it a footStep? or one of those strange
sounds that break the stiffness of the
night?-ghostly sounds that we all know,
coming from nowhere apparently, yet
loud enough to make the pulses beat and
suggest a covering of the head with the
friendly bedclothes.
Millicent, wide awake now, but uncer-
tain, listens intently. She has indeed
drawn back her foot into the shelter of
the bed, but otherwise has shown no
fear Is it a step? 1t has stopped now.
After ALL it might have been auntie
coming for her cologne water, or one of
the maids for the neuralgia cure that lies
~, l. 1a,, t.
spite of these consolatory reflections,
however, she cannot conceal from her
self that she is growing frightened, and
is fegretting with ever increasing earn
esness the fact that she is sleeping
alone, in corridor cut off from the rest
of the house.
Pshaw! after all, it was nothing-a
silly scare. Silence once more reigns SUI
preme. Not even the indomitable mouse
is to be heard. No scratchings, no
squeaks anywhere. Not even a.
Good heavens! what was that? That
horrible stealing sound in the room be-
yond. 1t is coming nearer and nearer!
Of that some horrible inner sense as
sures her, though now she can hear moth
ing. Oh, how the minutes dragl The
knowledge that even if she screamed
until life left her she could not be heard
by any one member of the household
miserable situation.
All, there There it is again-that
stealthy footstep; more distinct now
more real. All in one moment every
Shuddering recollection of people muir
dered, every CHASTITY detail that she has
ever read or heard, recurs to her, and
makes the blood freeze within her veins.
Soon, perhaps, that blood will be frozen
eternally.
And now a maddening regret occurs to
her. The bell! why had she not thought
of that sooner? To cross the room, to
pull violently at it-even if her effort
failed to bring one of the servants "a
most likely thing, as all the servants
sleep at the very top of the hGuse)-at
least she might have alarmed this mid
night assassin, and sent him flying from
the scene of his unlawful labors. But
now. Is it too late yet?
Almost paralyzed by fear as she is, she
rises cautiously upon her elbow, and is
just about to make a rush for the bell,
when