Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1890-06-13
ONE NIGHTOF HORROR

now, though forty-two years have
passed away since then.
In one night an awful horror
struck me suddenly with the weight
of scores of years.
My father was MIR. Marriott a
ship broker, who lived in Russell
square with his faulty, consisting
of my mother aud four children, OF
whom l was the eldest. One morn
ing, in the December Of 1912, while
we were sitting at breakfast, my
mother said, as she finished read
ing a letter which had just been de-
liyered, "1t's from Judith. She
wants Ellen to go aud stay a month
at The willows. But do not like
the idea. She never even called
on us when she came back TO En-
gland last summer. Besides, we
have known almost nothing of her
for years past"
ooh! 1 should like immensely
to see aunt Judith" l Oried.
but you have never seen, and
dou't know anything about her,"
replied my mother. at is nearly
ten wears since | saw her, aud she
didn't leave a very pleasant In
preston on my mind. l bad not
seen her, OF course, since l Was q
child, but, as l have eften told you,
there was somthing curious aud
weird about her that was not TO
nv liking. In fact, she did not
seem like a sister of mine.7
Aunt Judith was my mothers
elder sister by fifteen years. When
she was about twenty she married
a German baron who was . pro-
lessor in a university. Why 1t was
Nobody knew, but some two years
or so after her marriage Aunt Jd'
dith became very spathehc IS re-
garded her relations in England,
and but rarely correspOnded With
them.
Her husband, the baron and
professor, died about three years
before the time of which l speak.
Mourning cards were unknown IN
those days; still she might have
sent a word to inform her sister OF
her bereavement. To our great
astonishment, 1t was only from a
lend who attended his funeral
that we heard, casually, that he
was dead and that she Vas .
widow.
Well, both my father and mother
were unwilling to let me 60 to The
Willows my mother, because she
had. or seemed to me to have, q
prejudice against her sister; my
father, for no reason that conld
make out, except that he echoed
nv mother. At all events, l over
came their opposition at last, and
started, one fine, or rather gloomy,
morning-for the clouds were dark
and heavy, l remember, as l let'
| London-tor The Willows, man
sion in Warwickshire which had
been left to my Aunt Judith By my
grandfather. Travelling was SLOW
er IN those days than it is now, and
lit was not until nearly 6 O'Clock in
the evening that drove, 10 the lam
bering coach which conveyed me-
ND the dreary carriage path whic.'
led to The Willows.
Aunt Judith had only returned
to live there during the past sl1
months, 80 | was not surprised tt
find the place IN q very untidy
: state. Such, at least, was my I'm
5 preston from what l saw through
; ; the darkness OF the evening.
Things, however, seemed u
s change tor the better when we dre'
o up at the house itself. 1t was
great, Struggling building, whic'
had stood for more than century
and was cold and forbidding I
look at from the outside. But frod
. the windo VS., aud what ! could 40
! of the ball, It seemed to DO we'll Iii
warm and well appointed witblI
A female servant came out TO NEE
. me an the coach stopped vt th
; door.
"Mlle. Marriott 7" she inquired
in German voice, as | descended
"Yes," replied.
y "Ah your aunt would like We
to see yOu,' she said. 81 Shs
take you to her. She is dressin
for dinner" followed her o
stairs, and into a large bedroor
Standing before glass at the er
of the room was q tall wom'
whom, from the description h'
heard of her, l Immediately reco
nized as Aunt Judith.
her figure was very erect, slmo
majestic, but her face puzzled n
The features we're very regul'
oo6 otoor1xy drauU ThaPa WQa