Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-09-04
The Mystery
of the Towers

 there by a long way, for do you knOss sir, my lady wasn't bit like she used to be, at the last. When you went away, excepting Miss Madeline, there worn't bonnier lady to be found anywhere, but she changed bit soon. don't know how 1t began, but got to notice as how she worn't so cheery as she used to be, when she went away in particular; why once ou u time to have gone journey With him would have been her delight, but remem- Der when she told me they was going. She was a-sitting in the window as might be. and when he says, Margaret get soIne things together. your mistress and are going to have holiday, going to Italy sees her turn pale like and her fingers get hold of the work in her lap so that she broke the wool, and she went out of the room, saying as she'd get more, though she'd got her basket well nigh full And remember too, when l was packing, she wouldn't let me put in none of her beautt- full gowns. shan't want them,' she said laying them away; but said Master likes to see you look nice he's so quick to notice.' I have worn this grey silk longer that any dress, and he asked me this morning whether 1t wasn't new she said sadly, and then locked a bit frightened, and passed 1t off with a laugh. But l noticed that evening she put on that lovely gold satin, as she wore when she went to her first ball after they were married, with the diamonds in her hair And she did look lovely, and know master thought so too for she was at the piano a-singing-she did sing well once, but lately she'd given 1t up bit-I was surprised to hear her, and he was leaning over the piano turn ing over her music; and I watched him look first at my lady and then at Miss Madeline, who was sitting by the fire. with only one of her old white frocks on she loved them because you saw her first in one-but evidently, Sir Philip thought Bhe looked dowdy. for he crossed the room and gave her bit of a fiower-a white rose, l think, that he wore in his coat l sup dose my going in just then put my lady out, but she broke down in her song, and didn't sing no more that night, and found her yellow dress, after she had gone, a-lying all of heap in the cupboard and fine creased state it's in. No, my lady worn't half as cheerful as she was once; why, when she says '0ood-bye' to me she was actually crying. How long will you be goner I asks T don't know, Margaret she said But you'll think of me when Pm Rone--while Pm far away; good-bye,' and she gives me @ kiss, and gets into the brouRham. and the last thing sees of her she's staring up at the old house, as though she never expected to see 1t again. And she didn't-for nigh n month we heard-that is Miss Madeline and heard regularly-then one day there comes a letter, with a black edge, in Sir Philips writing, and when Miss Mado- line reads 1t she calls out that my lady Is dead, and that was all we could get out Of her for nigh two hours; then we heard as the funeral was to be abroad. and few days after Sir Philip came home. Lor', how upset he was to be sure, when he told how 1t happened. There was an acci- dent. He and my lady, and some others, were on the iake-the boat got upset, and my lady was drowned. Pedro, too, told us how the the body was picked up, and buried In the churchyard there, and we all went into mouring, which we've only just left off
 "But Margaret" I said, ''tell me of Madeline. How is it that have had her letters and answered them, and yet heard nothing of thisH"
 Answered her letters No, no, you're not saying the truth She never wrote after you sent word saying as how you'd changed towards her."
 Changed toward her 1 l wrote no such letter. It was a forgery, and her letters to me blinds I see it all now. But whose work was all this Whose but that of the man who would have married herr Sir Philip, you and I will hear the truth of this matter"
 Sir Philip Surely, MT Gasron, you do not suspect my master of any foul play to Miss Madeline Why, he's the kindest master under the sun, so fond as he was of milady, so pleasant-spoken as he always Is. Surely you believe"
 "Never mind what I believe. Tell me, when did this letter of mine reach MadolineP''
 "Nigh a year ago,1 was the answer.
 About the time that your mistress and Sir Philip left for Italy"
 ''Just after, sir, and mighty sorry was too, for there was no one but me to advise the poor dear, no one to comfort | her. She wrote and told mirady, who never wrote back. for the letter had hard | ly got there before she had the accident.
 "And, Madoline-how did she take itP' I asked, trying to retain my composure It would, knew be useless to waste my anger now, but I felt a mighty passion rising in my heart till my brain was or | fire.
 | 'She scarcely said @ word at all She used to be bright and cheery after you left. and none of us 80 much as knew shG heard from you until this letter came. | noticed she used to watch at the window | at post-times, but used to think M was | only because she was eager for @ bit of news to cheer the dull life, for we had very little company of late years Mon day nights the first time the house haG been thrown open for monthA We'll al
 I said, when this letter came, took it tS Miss Madeline; she seized it, and all un
 thinking said, 'Lof,' Miss Madeline, onI would think 1t was from a sweetheart Take care and don't have no secrets iron
 Lady Isobel, or yer love affairs I'll neve
 prosper A little later was @ sitting il
 my room, the door opened, and in sh' came, as white as a sheet and trembling | leaf. with the letter in her hand. Sh'
 just put 1t on my knee and said
 Margaret, you were quite right. There the end of 1t all' read the letter; ther wasn't much in it, and then didn't say
 word, but just held out my arms, ant she crept into them. She didn't cry.
 wished she could; she only held on to m quite tight, and let me rock her as thougl she was baby. After that she'd speal
 to me of you; but when Sir Philip camt
 home he bade me never so much as men