Cottonwood report. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1893-1901, 1894-06-29

She was tan and slender, and wore q
long russell gown of an old fashioned
cut, but her face was pale and sad, with
sharp, clear cut features. and mass OF
rough. reddish hair was carelessly
twisted into long lrnot at the nape Of
her neck.
She motioned me to one of the chairs.
taking the other herself, and she now
sat bending over the fire, apparently too
deep in her own bitter reflections to be
conscious of my presence. The express
sion on her thin, worn face was very
sorrowful. and her hands were tightly
clinched in her lap. But, though thin
and worn, her face was still lovely, and
as gazed thought how lovely it would
be were the hollows filled out and the
deep lines smoothed away.
Suddenly, with little resolute pes-
ture, she turned toward me and began
to speak in low, rapid tones.
II brought you here because wanted
to tell you my story, and | want your
help If you will give it."
Then. with voice rising and falling
with varying emotions, and with deep
gray eyes fixed on my face, she told her
sad tale. The beginning was common
place enough-a beautiful. willful girl;
stern. unyielding father; two lovers,
one brave and handsome, the other mo-
rose and unattractive; proposed fight;
a sudden death; broken heart-the last
three were the tragic elements.
And l saw them carry him by the
house-dead," she said, speaking in a
strange. dull way, land for a long time
l think must have lost my senses.
When my father still insisted on my
marriage with the wretch he had chosen
for my husband | raised no protest. |
viewed the preparations for the we'd
ding with indifference. seemed turned
to stone. But a week before the mar
riage my reason returned, and realized
the horror of the coil which was slowly
Tightening around me. Then it was
that l determined on what was virtually
living burial. | was born in this dear
old house. and ! knew every nook and
Granny Of it. My foster mother had
shown me the sliding panel in the room
above that which | then occupied, and
she and l were the only living persons
who knew the secret. She was devoted
to me, and | at length won her over to
my plan.
ION the night before my bridal day |
fled down here. and here have remained
ever since. For eight years have been
dead to the world. had valuable
jewelry which had been my dead moth
er's; that has been gradually sold, and
on the proceeds have subsisted. NV
foster mother comes daily and brings
me food-not through the house of |
course. There is secret path and door |
OF communication in the garden"
And the ghost3" queried.
"Oh," she said, with a queer little
smile. II am the ghostl You see, | |
wanted to keep the house empty, SO that
might wander about the rooms and
grounds; but now am tired of this I'M
natural existence. Life will always be
sad for me! have had dreadful grief,
and all my dear ones are dead; but, in
spite OF all. my youth reasserts itself, and
solitude has at last lost its charm. So
wish to return to the world, and you can
help me to do SO, Will your
Of course helped her, and within a
week from that time the Thorpe manor
'ghost" laid forever-was safe
1nder the kind wing of John Ridgway's
nomely little wife, and by the time the
roses were blooming in my sweet
scented old fashioned garden the
ghost" too, had bloomed into beauty.
md |, sober old bachelor, had fallen in
ove-quite hopelessly, | told myself,
ior her heart was with her dead. and
yet it happened that one June afternoon,
Is we stood alone by the sundial on the
looping shady lawn, something gave me
courage. Perhaps it was that she
ooked SO sweet in her fresh muslin
yown, with the flowers in her belt. or
perhaps because caught a strange,
leeting look in her shy gray eyes; any
way | know she murmured that she
owed the dear old home with its many
FABLES and pretty garden. Then /
NEED you ever leave itg' And look
ng under the broad brimmed garden
lat into her flushed happy face | added,
Come, sweet ghost, and haunt the old
,lace forever"
And she consented. -Munyon's Maya
line.