The age-herald., 1900-02-04
THE VOICE OF THE DEAD
BY OTTO GAWNER.

As I stepped out of the carriage that had brought from Brompton Station, a damp, chill wind struck my face like a clammy hand and sighed dismally away from the branches of the trees that grew thick and dark above the east wing of the old Bellville house. I could see it looming up before me in ghostly solemnity, with the dusk hanging about it like pal-a strong ly built, frame structure, with two wings jutting out on either side of the great central mass.
 Gloomy and isolated enough I thought it. as I walked up the steps to the dark veranda. I hesitated a moment, before ringing the bell, on pretense of giving some directions to the coachman, who lift ing my modest trunk down from the box of the carriage, but in reality, that might gain time to conquer the feeling of dismay and repugance that had taken possession of me at sight of the mournful. lfeless look ing place. In response to my summons, given reluctantly at last a gaunt, sour faced man servant appeared.
 You are Miss Beauchamp,' said he, without waiting for me to announce my errand; twill you be so good as to come to Mrs. Bellville at once; she wishes to see you"
 I followed him up the wide staircase to the second story and in and out of dimly lighted halls; and stood and waited while he knocked at his mistress door, low voice said Come in,'' and standing solmnly aside for me to enter, the man announced Miss Beauchamp," and retired.
 The only occupant of the room was lady, whom I at once divined was Mrs. Bellville-wiho sat in an arm chair by table. A lamp burned beside her and the volume she mad been reading lay face downward in her lap. She was still hand some, though long past her first youth; and her black crape trimmed dress heightened the effect of her dazzlingly transparent skin, and the masses of white hair that waved back from her brow. Her eyes, which were dark and strangely luminous, seemed in their intentnoss to pierce into my very soul. She looked delicate and the hand stretched out to wave me to a chair was thin and languid.
 Be seated, if you please, Miss Beau champ she said in voice of remarkable sweetness. You are very young" after pause during which she regarded me intent- ly-"young and pretty"
 Mot very young,' l said, trying to smile. ''Twenty-three last September"
 ..So old!' with a slight, ironical eleva- tion of the delicate eyebrows. "I am glad > that you are no older-my doctor will be satisfied. He,'' with a scornful laugh, ore scribed a young companion. Where is your home?''
 "I have been living at Easton for the past year, with an uncle, as you know from my letter" I was a little surprised that she had forgotten or overlooked this fact.
 "Ah-I did not see your letter." indif- ferently." My nephew. Mir. Jack Raymond. sent the telegram finally engaging you. left the matter entirely in his hands Your father and mother? Ah!' Glancing from my black gown to my distressed face, she waited for no reply. 'I shall require little of you only be here with me, in this room"-with half fearful, half cunning look creeping into her eyes-"for certain hours of the day; to read to me, If you can. You will come tomorrow. at nine Goodnight"
 She laid hold of the great volume in her lap and resumed her reading. As for me outside the door, caught my breath, as if relieved from some heavy oppression.
 The old man servant had disappeared. Wandering through maze of halls and passages, in search of some one to show me to my room. came upon him at last,