Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1901-12-31
n
NORA's lest
BY MARY CECIL HAY
From
DsrkneSs
To Light

With a great gladness in his eyes, he
had risen in the first moment; but the
gladness rdpidly gave way to apprehen-
sion.
''I'm-please don't ask me what is the
matter, Mr. Poynz," Nora said, hurrying
over the words. Every one is well at
the vicarage-I am quite well-nothing
has happened. Please understand all that,
and don't question me tonight. lam
come to pay you call. | have called
upon you-isn't that the right expression
in society? Please say you are glad to
see me-"
Il am very glad to see you," Mark
said, doing his best to hide his surprise,
and pretending not to see the shy, panied
color that had rushed into her face. Il
was only beginning to wish that / had
made Traveere more comfortable. This
is the first evening l have spent here.
But | am expecting Doyle tonight; and
he must have been detained, for sent
to summon him long ago. l wish to see
him here, else | should probably have
been at the vicarage or Fintona tonight.
| am at your service, Miss st. George. /
will go home with you whenever You
wish"
Thank you," she returned, simply. Il
will tell you when | am ready. They
don't know | am here. l cannot tell you
why | came Until tomorrow; but you
trust me, don't your
Trust your he echoed, his warm eyes
full Of amusement as well as Of utter
confidence in her. Il should-no, | viii
be like yourself, and tell you tomorrow.
- q nd Iafr aiaaa
it,"
This he added because she glanced to-
ward the open window and shivered a
little.
Mono, please" she said, as she in
tercepted him. Il like to do it. could
fancy" she went on, without lowering
her voice, as she stood alone in the mar
row aperture, that was living here still
with grandpa. 1t is just as quiet as it
used to be. No one ever used to come
to Traveere-after dark"
Not even DIR. Armstrong; questioned
Mark, lightly, wondering why she made
it impossible for him to stand beside her
at the window and look out with her into
the darkness. Come to the fire, Miss
st. George; you have grown chilly"
you will lead the way, will follow"
He laughed quite heartily then, as he
crossed the room to the hearth; but, when
she literally followed him and stood be-
side him there-still between him and the
unshuttered window-a vague, uneasy
feeling grew upon him that something
must be amiss with her. Could she be
suffering from any nervous, girlish at
tack, the result of her return to the old
scenes of her lonely youth?
Mr.. Poynz," she said, without any
hesitation, though she did not know her.
self what words she was going to utter,
will you please allow me, for just this
one evening, to fancy myself at home
here again, doing as l like, and going
where | like? And will you do as l ask
you-just this once?"
You are sure you will claim the priv
ilege only just this once? he asked, try
ing to decide that some unexpected trou-
BILE or pain had upset her. ''Then l
think l may safely promise. Will you
stir the fire, Miss st. George? You I'M
derstand turf fire so much better than
l do"
THANK you" she said, not for that
proposal, but because she saw now that
he would understand and not question
or doubt her. 1T is very dark, isn't it?
Did you notice how suddenly it grew
dark to-night?
NO; but then have been sitting here
all the evening, so the twilight seemed
long TO me-"
II will sit down, Mr.. Poynz," she said.
'Of course l must take a seat, as l am
paying you call. Please be very en-
pertaining. You were writing, weren't
you, when l came in? Then would you
mind lending me a book to read while
you so on with your writingY
rs it that what you wish?" asked
Mark, cleverly once again hiding his sur
prise. Then where will you sit?"
As he carried the chair, she walked
with him up to the seat he had been oc.
cupying all the evening, and, with her
back to the window, directed him, laugh
ingly, how to place hers; and, when he
had done her bidding, smiling a little
himself, too, she sat down on her high,
uncomfortable chair, in the direct line
from the window, while he sat writing
busily beyond her, preoccupied by his
work, as it seemed to her. And beyond
the unshuttered window-against which
the darkness lay like a sable curtain,
and toward which Nora tried never once
to glance-Shan Corr crouched, with his
loaded rife against his shoulder. waiting
just for that clear aim which should
make a seconds work effectual
Once Mark put down his pen and rose
to replenish the fire, but the moment he
did so Nora uttered a little exclamation
of delight, and came up eagerly to show
him a passage in her beck. As she read
it to him, standing close beside him, he
watched her with scrutiny which was
almost painful; but no suspicion could
live in her presence, and no mystery in
her coming could, after all, make her
companionship anything but a joy to
him.
Il suppose, Miss st. George" he said,
in his cool, easy tones, as he took his
seat once more, and she took hers with
an unconscious sigh of relief, that the
year you spent in England seems almost
like a dream TO you, now that you are at
home again? How little l saw OF you
during that long year,
And now | shall begin to teach at
once, when I've found some children to
teach she said. simply. Celia says ;t
viii be very dull and wearying life
unless l chance TO travel"
Travel as governeSsi What infinite
delight the plan unfolds! My child, be
content with the pleasant journeys you
take in gour loneliest moments, until
And you have quite decided to be
governess. have youg" he added, with an
entire change of tone. That's right. for
know man who would love TO have his
children taught By you"
"Not-really - questioned Nora. "Oh.
wish he would engage me at oneer'
He is ready. Do you know | have
had the hardest work in the world. for
whole year. TO prevent his trSing TO en-
gage you before you might think your
self ready? often feared that he would
do il in spite of me"
Tn not very ready even now" said
Nora, sadly. her eyes turning swiftly 70
the window. because Mark ar that mo-
ment bent forward in his seat Il don't
know many things, but l shonli try 70
h., ~.