The morning call., 1895-02-24
CHAPTER 1.

eS, dear. Lady MercerOn told me ne
was coming. She wanted to consult him
about Charlie"
"She's always consulting him about
Charlie, and it never makes any differ
ence"
Mrs Bushell looked UP from her needle
work; her hands were full with needle and
stuff, and a couple OF pins protruded from
her lips. She glanced AT her daughter, who
stood by the window in the bright plaze of
a brilliant sunset, istlessly hitting the
blind-cord and its tassel to and fro.
THE poor boys very young still, " num-
bled Mrs. Bushell through her pins.
He's % last month";" returned Mill
cent. Il know, because there's exactly
three years between him and me-"
The sinking rays defined Miss Bushels
form with wonderful clearness. She was
very tall, and the severe, well-cut cloth
gown she wore set off the stately lines of
her figure. She had a great quantity of
fair hair and a handsome face, spoilt some
what by a slightly excessive breadth across
the cheeks, as her height demanded or eX-
cused; her hands and feet were not small,
though well shaped. Would Time have ar
rested his march forever, there would have
been small fault to find with natures gifts
10 Miss Bushell; but, as her mother said,
Mile was lust what she had been at q,
and Mrs. Bushell was now extremely stout.
Mile escaped the inference by disbelieving
the fact
The young lady wore her hat, and pres
entity she turned away from the window,
remarking:
81 think I shall go for a stroll. I've had
no exercise to-day"
Either inclination, or perhaps that
threatening possibility from which she
strOve to avert her eyes, made Mile
devOtee OF active pursuits. She hunted,
she rode she played lawn tennis, and when
at the seaside. golf; when all failed she
walked resOlutely four or five miles on the
high road, swinging along at a healthy
pace and never pausing save to counsel an
old woman or rebuke truant urchin. On
such occasions her manner flor we NAV
not suppose that her physique aided the
impresSiOn) suggested the benevolent vet
stern policeman and the vicar acknowl-
edged in her an invaluable assistant By
a strange coincidence she seemed TO suit
the house she lived in-one of those large
white square dwellings, devoid of orna-
ment, vet possessing every substantial
merit, and attaining, by virtue of their
dimensions and simplicity, an effect of
handsomeness denied to many more
tricked-out buildings. The house satisfied;
so did Mile, unless the judge were very
critical.
I shall just walk round by the Pool and
back, she added, as she opened the door.
MY dear, it's four milesl"
We'll, it's only little after and we
don't dine till s"
EncOuntering no further opposition than
a sigh of admiration-300 yards was the
limit OF pleasure in a walk to her mother
Mile BuSheu started on her way, dang
ling a neat ebony stick in her hand and
setting her feet down with firm, decisive
tread. 1t did not take her long to cover
the two miles between her and her deStina-
ton. Leaving the road she entered the
grounds of the court and, following little
path which ran steep down hill she found
herself by the willows and reeds ringing
the edge of the Pool. Opposite to her, on
the higher bank, some seven or eight
feet above the water, rose the tenn
pie, a small classical erection, used
now, when at all, as a summer-house,
but built TO commemorate the sad fate OF
Agatha Merceron. The sun had lust sunk
and the Pool looked chill and gloomy; the
deep water under the temple was black
and still. Miles robust mind was not
prone to superstition, yet she was rather
relieved to think that, with the sun only
Just gone, there was clear hour before
Agatha Merceron would come out of the
temple, slowly and fearfully descend the
shallow flight OF marble steps and lay her
self down in the water to die. That hap
legend, an hour after sunset-eyery even
ing for the last 300 years, since poor
Agatha, bereft and BETRAYED, had found
the Pool kinder than the world, and sunk
her sorrow and her shame and her beauty
there-such shame and such beauty as had
never been before or after in all the gener-
atiOns OF the Mercerons
What nonsense it all isl" said Mills
aloud. But I'm afraid Charlie is silly
enough TO believe it."
As she spoke, her eyes fell on a Canadian
canoe, which lay at the foot of the steps.
She recognized it as Charlie Merceron's.
and knowing that approach TO the temDle
from the other side was to be gained only
by a difficult path through a tangled wood.
and that the canoe usually law under a
little shed a few yards from where she
stood, she concluded that Charlie was in
the temple. There was nothing surprising
in that: 1T was favorite haunt of his
She raised her voice and called to him.
At the first no answer came, and she re-
peated:
"Charliel Charlier'
After a moment of waiting, head was
thrust out of a window, in the side of the
temple-a head in a straw hat
"Hullo! said Charlie Merceron in tones
of startled surprise. Then, seeing the Wis
itor, he added: ooh, it's YOU Mile! How
did you know [ was here?"
''By the canoe of course"
Hang the canoep muttered Charlie.
and his head disappeared. A second later
he came out of the doorway and down the
steps. Standing on the lowest he shouted
the Pool was about sixty feet across
"What do you want?"
Glow rude you arel' shouted Miss Bush
ell in reply.
Charlie got into the canoe and began To
paddle across. He had Just reached the
other side when Mile screamed:
Look look, Charlie' ' she cried. ''The
templep'
WHAT"
IL saw something white at the win
dow"
Charlie got out of the canoe hastily.
"What?" he asked again, walking up to
Miss Bushell.
~ declare | saw something white at the
window. Oh, CHARLIE But it's ALL
"Bosh OF course it is. There's moth
ing in the temple"
"Well, | thought wonder you like to
be there"
why shouldn't I?'
The mysterious appearance not being re-
peated, Miles courage returned.
Il thought you believed in the ghost"
she said, smiling.