The Press., 1889-11-07

houSehOld and housekeeplng no one knew anything Servants they had brought with them-two plain, middle aged women. Her husband we saw beside her when she went out on Sundays. And he went up to Lon don--a journey of only twenty miles-every day. He was supposed to be that indefna- hle individual a ssbilsiness man, At least, he went to London every day till the day we were all shocked and startled by hearing that MT. Masters was dead.
 Yes-dead- suddenly. Lucy's husband went to see him, A London doctor came down, and together they carried out the post mortem examination, which was of course insisted on, and to which Annora made not the least objection. They could find nothing, nothing-nothing whateyer-to cause death. All was right; there was no latent disease, no injury The man we had seen alive and well on Sunday was dead on Tuesday-that was all
 .'From unknown causes" !" the verdictat the inquest ran
 Lucy in her kindness went to see Annora Masters after this, 'sto comfort her," she said. But apparently Annora would have no comfort. For Lucy, whom l met few days later, asked me6eriously if had ever seen. Annora Masters close; if Lowering her voice-thought she was mada
 She had, Lucy said, grasped her wrists tightly, and said, when Lucy tried to say some of the words her own sweetheart taught her:
 "Deathl Sometimes death brings one what one wantsl It is life that is wrong"
 Then she broke of suddenly, and, dropping Lucy's hands, begged her to come and see. < her again.
 s'The oldest thing" Lucy went on, ''is that Harry is sure he has seen Mrs. Masters before somewhere and can't remember where. He hates her," Lucy said, very low. II don't quite like her. She'-
 "You couldn't, my"-
 had forgotten, sometimes did, that Lucy was not my darling. The thought was often bad to bear, So lifted my. hat and left her abruptly.
 One warm spring day three months later I was passing the old red brick house, when one of the maid servants rushed out hastily, near ly knocking me down.
 ssOhl" she cried, s'come in, sir, do, while go for the doctor. Jane's tainted, and mis- tress, she does nothing but stand looking at
 Mrs. Bent and doing nothing to bring her round. Do make her, sir, for mercy's sakel"
 Mrs Bentr' said, grasping the woman's arm like wise. "What is ita Tell mel'
 ssShe's tainted, sir, and I can't get her round, and mistress there, sir, let me go."
 I did let her go, rushed up the garden, and
 unceremoniously indoors and upstairs, into large room where l saw-what can see now Lucy, white, ashen white, lying motionless on the dark rug, and Annora Masters stand
 ing by the mantelpiece, with one arm resting on it, gazing on the woman at her feet.
 l don't know what did-seized Annora's arm, think. Still less do know what said-words of intense hate and burning anger, know; but when she turned slowly and, with a slow, contemptuous smile on her o1-oI s,,o~ 1ir~l,x s,, her eyes turned me to silence. had no more words
 I whose love, wf5uso i,asslon lay dead there,
 could say no more, could not speakl knelt down by Lucy and hid my face in my hands. Something so surely made me know that Lucy was dead-gone beyond power of our help-that I never tried to
 touch or raise the white marble face And
 then-I do not remember anything else. I was ill, very ill, for long time after that. When l got well asked, of course, before anything, about Lucy. Gone, knew she was; but when and how2 Heart disease, they said. Heart diseasel My darling! got strong again slowly-a most annoy ing thing for an active man, and l could not believe in my own weakness. | Perhaps my nerves were overstrung and my perceptions unreliable, one night, when l ! had in sort of bravado walked much far ther than was really able. What am say l ing? Overstrung nervesl Nonsense I saw l them.
 l I was passing an old ruin-Saint Anne's | chapel we called it. It was gaunt and un-
 canny in the winter moonlight, which shone l with unearthly sort of radiance over 1 everything. Suddenly I saw. clear and ! bright, in front of the falling, ruined win dow, two figures-fgures I felt I knew
  1 shadow and watched. All at once knew. The tall, slender, black robed woman was Annora Masters. Even at that distance could see the light in those awful eyes. | The other, man whose attitude somehow | seemed to me to show reluctance in every | line, upright and firm though he stood, was ! -Lucy's husband. Lucy's husband! cast
 every thought of eavesdropping to the winds
 was not, after all, on the king's highwaya ! and listened.
 | You will," Annora said. "You do;.
 knew you before this-this ridiculously short
 ife." And she laughed more weirdly than \ words can say.
 "LLucy was my wife, my love. I love
 her still, he answered, in an odd, choked voice.
 ''You love-mel" the cold, calm, incisive l voice answered.
 And saw 1t. But when think of it, after l all these years, the same shudder comes over me that felt then. Then she looked at him. | He took her into his arms-the arms that had
 held Lucy.
 could bear no more. never knew how I got home All the way the thought fol- lowed, accompanied, haunted me What was thisa Who was this who threw everything
 aside in this awful way, and went straight to l her own ends2 Was it a woman-or a fenda No one ever knew more than this. How
 should theya
 A room in the back of the red brick house, in which A1nora often sat, was found one
 morning locked from the inside The serv-
 ants were alarmed. Doubly so when they | found that their mistress own room had | never been entered that night. l They sent for help to force the door, and l found, in an arm chair close to the window, 1 Lucy's husband-dead-shot through the l head. A pistol lay on the floor. From its l position 1t must have fallen from his own right hand, which hung over the chair. l He was alone; the window was shut but l not fastened, and there was no sign or trace ! of Annora.
 A small crumpled note lay on the floor | It was in his writing, and contained very few 1 lines
 l T am writing this at home,' it ran, ''to
 tell you cannot come; but what use is it2 l know I shall come as surely as 10 o'clock l strikes. You will make me. But-marry youi I would kill myself first.n AnHOra no one ever saw again. fill fIrea