Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1890-06-04
ONE NIGHT OF HORROR.

ONE NIGHT OF HORROR.
One night went to bed with gloss
brown hair, and ebe face of a girl Of IS; mex
morning left my room with hair as gra
as it is now, though forty-two years hav
passed away since then.
In one night an awful horror struck m
suddenly with the weight of scores of years
Nv father was o Mr.. Marriott, a shi
broker. who lived in Russell square with hi
f,mily, consisting of my mother and fou
children, OF whom l was the eldest. On'
morning, in the December of 1S42, while W
were sitting at breakfast, my mother said
as she finished reading a letter which ha
just been delivered, "It's from Judith. Sh
wants Ellen to go and stay month at Tn
Willows But do not like the idea. Sh
never even called on US when she came bacl
to England last summer. Besides, we have
known almost nothing of her for yearl
past"
sob! should like immensely to sea Aun
Judith" cried.
"But you have never seen, and dom
know anything about her." replied m,
mother. SIT is nearly ten years since / say
her, and she didn't leave very pleasant
impression on my mind. l had not seer
her, of course, since was child, but, al
1 have often told you, there was something
curious aud weird about her that was moi
to my liking. In fact, she did not seen
like sister of NINE"
Aunt Judith was my mothers elder sis
ter by fifteen years. When she was abou
twenty she married German baron who
was a professor in university. Why i
was nobody knew, but some two years or 81
after her marriage Aunt Judith became
very apathetic as regarded her relations il
England, and but rarely correspondent with
them.
Her husband, the baron and professor
died about three years before the time ol
which speak. Mourning cards we're un
known in those days; still she might have
sent word to inform her sister of her be-
To our great astonishment, il
funeral that we heard, casually, that he was
dead and that she was widow.
Well, both my father and mother were
to let me go to The Willows: my
mother, because she had, or seemed to me
to have, a prejudice against her sister; my
father, for no reason that / could make out,
except that he echoed my mother. At all
events, overcame their opposition at last,
and started, one fine, or rather gloomy,
the clouds were dark and
heavy, remember, as l lett London-for
The Willows, mansion in Warwickshire
which had been left to my Aunt Judith by
my grandfather. Travelling was slower in
hose days than it is now, and it was not
until nearly o'clock In the evening that I
lrove, in the numbering coach which con-
Keyed me, up the dreary carriage path
which led to The Willows.
Aunt Judith had only returned to live
here during the past six months, SO was
lot surprised to find the place in very
lntidy state. Such, at least, was my i'm
PRESTON from what saw through the dark
less of the evening.
Things, however, seemed to change for
he better when We drew up at the house
tself. 1t was a great, struggling building,
which had stood for more than century,
md was cold and forbidding to look at from
he outside. But from the windows, and
what could see of the hall, it seemed to be
veil lit, warm and we'll appointed within.
4 female servant came out to meet me as
he coach stopped at the door.
ssMlle. Marriott" she inquired, in Ger
nan voice, as 1 descended.
eyes," replied.
stAh! your aunt would like we'll to sse
1ou," she said. 81 shall take you to her.
She is dressing for dinner" I followed her
lp stairs, and into lai ge bedroom. stand
ng before a glass at the end of the room
vas a tall woman whom, from the descrip.
ion l had heard of her, Immediately rec
,gnized as Aunt Judith.
Her figure was very erect, almost ma
estic, but her face puzzled me. The fea-
ures were very regular, and clearly drawn.
There was in them considerable amount
# power, and yet, what could not under
tand, a curious, wizeped, almost craven
which just bordered on being
mister. I was only girl at the time, and
NEW nothing of physiognomy, bat, instinc-
lively, felt sense of uneasiness as l met
Ter keen gray eyes, which seemed never to
est for moment, but to wander about as
{ at the bidding of an uneasy spirit, though
Ter demeanor was otherwise curiously calm
md self-possessed.
"Your room is not ready yet, but it will
,e presently" she said, when we had greet
ID each other; "you can dress here. We
ave few friends to dinner to night. Your
parents are well, hope"
"Your parentsp' and this in allusion to
Ter own sister, whom she had not seen for
ears! Her gresting-n fact, her manner,
verything about her-was perfectly polite,
'ut strangely cold.
EYES," replied, "they are quite well,
hank you"
"You can come down stairs when you are
eady," she continued, as she stood before
be glass, giving the last touches to her
oilet. "Dinner will be on the table in
bout twenty minutes. 1 had better go
own-they will be waiting for me-" saying
7hieh she left the room.
A curious woman, l thought, when she
7as gone; and, altogether, 1 did not care
,uch about her perhaps, also, was lit
le sorry that, against the wishes of my par
nts, | had come to The Willows at all.
When / came into the drawing room l
ound party of about dozen people as
embed there. There were, besides my
unit and an elderly German lady, who was
relative of her late husband, the clergy
IAN of the parish with his wife and two
anghters, the local doctor-a good looking
oung man of about six or seven and twen-
2; the squire and three or four others, who,
Ike myself, were staying on visit at the
ouse. Dinner passed very pleasantly. We
ad music and dance when the gentlemen
ame up stairs. Altogether l enjoyed my
elf very much, and it was past midnight
1hen we rose from the supper table. One
hing I did notice almost uncOnsciOusly
uring the evening, and this was strange,
bsent, and at the same time searching, ex-
ression which sometimes came upon Aunt
udith's face. 1t was as though she were
,oking at or for something which was in
isible to everything else.
Well, when supper was over, and those
{ the guests who were leaving the house
ad taken their departure, went with Aunt
udith to her bedroom, "to see," she said,
whether Sophia had got my room ready
et."
Sophia was waiting for US when we en-
cred the room, and my aunt and she imme-
lately began to talk in German. What
,ey were saying l could no. tell, as did
OF understand the language; but somehow,
.om their manner or the tone of their
oices, it seemed to me as if they were dis
nssing something which they did not want
le to know abont. At last my aunt said
} me in English:
"My dear, an sorry the room had in
ended for you is not ready yet. 1t will be
sady tomorrow, but for to night you must