The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-06-26
BY GEORGE W. KLINE.
A GHOST OF THE PAST.

Now that Evan had left her. Flora
 was convinced that she was really get
 ting very. very homeslck. Her widow ed aunt. the only relative unrelenting Fate had spared Flora Underwood, was
 not the most entertaining companion for the long, tiresome Journey from Connecticut to Georgia. Besides. Aunt Esther commented rather vigorously on the folly of extravagant weddings and also characterized the persistency of Evans mother in insisting on gor- geous antebellum ceremony as one Of the v3garies of a weak and selfish soul.
 Flora sank into a chair by the win dow. languidly admiring the old-fash- toned luxlury of the room. It's heavy tapestry curtains, thick carpets and shelves of huge, legal looking books. From the alcove in the opposite end of the apartment. she could hear the regu- lar breathing of her aunt, who, wearied by the hustle and preparation of the last two weeks, had eluded the pre- nuptial reception just given ill the par lors of the Bentley mansion and was now sleeping soundly in the bed with its carved mahogany headpiece.
 Flora flushed with pleasure as she recalled Evans simple bearing and rus tic gayety among the guests Of his mother.
 Just too handsome for anything" she unused. He never intimates that he thinks everything Is perfectly stu pid. don't care what aunt says. I love him all the more for considering her wishes. But 1t was awfully tire some. Those fussy old ladies, basaful men and homely girls. Oh, for some of the girls to talk to. Jennle or Mill dred why didn't they come?"
 Again the feeling of loneliness op- pressed the girl. For a few moments, she buried her face in the soft folds of the curtains. Then she arose from the chair with the intention of arous- ing Aunt Esther: slowly she crossed the room and laid her hands on the heavy portieres. Then she hesitated.
 The sleeper, fatigued and petulant, probably would be In ne mood to dis pense encouragement or sympathy.
 Sobbing softly as she thought of the
 mother she had never seen and the
 father who left one summer morning
 wearing a pretty uniform and never 1e- turned. Flora again approached the
 window. Brushing the tears from her cheek she threw herself into the chair again. and parting the heavy curtains, gazed out on the rich splendor Of the
 summer night.
 A short distance from the Bentley
 mansion, the green lawn ended abrupt | ly in the still waters of a little lake | whose surface glittered like sheet of polished silver in the light of the ris- | ing moon. The bank opposite the
 house was lined with large oaks and ended precipitately in a steep bluff at | the waters edge, throwing broad, | black shadow across the shinning sur- face. The scene possessed a singular | fascina tion for the girl at the window. Suddenly she remembered the story
 Evan had told her the rfist winser he
 had attended the Yale law school. A
 beautiful young lady, the belle of the country side, was found one morning at the edge of the lake. her water
 soaked dress closely clinging to her
 rounded from, her face surrounded with
 the damp masses of her chestnut hair,
 and one small, shapely hand clutching | a bunch of oak leaves. Evan himself
 had found the place where limb was | torn from the large tree overhanging
 the water. and on the ground. near by.
 another searcher picked up her sailor | hat. Flora shuddered as she recalled
 how vividly Evan had portrayed the details of the affair. The girl gazed
 eagerly at the scene and almost imag-
 med she saw the giant oak outlined 1 against the dark green background of
 the forest.
 A small boat darted out upon the
 surface of the lake, sped across the
 water and hovered fin the dark shadow I of the father bank. There was some-
 thing strangely familiar in the even
 stroke of the oars and Flora thought of the day when her lovers strong arm had helped to win the famous victory | for the Yale crew.
 Some fisherman, probably" mur-
 mured the girl, rising and moving from | the window. Tt must be very late
 I'll scribble a few lines in my diary
 and then, to bed"
 She moved over to the secretary and
 taking a small notebook from her bosom, began searching for a pen. She drew out a small drawer in the top
 of the desk. Taking out some letters
 and newspaper clippings she at last | came to a large bundle of manuscript
 tied with a faded ribbon. One of the pages was turned back. showing several lines of the handwriting. Flora helI 1t l closer to the light. It was Evans careless running scrawl that covered the yellow paper before her.
 She cautiously looked about the
 room. blushed and then smiled. No | one would ever know. Besides she | would have a right to read Evans pa pers tomorrow. She united the ribbon.
 Thursday. TAT STATION ON BAY,