The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1901-03-01

| visaged Amos Fenton gave grunt,
which was as near an expression of
approval as he ever gave to any one
well, WE'LL" he growled. but not i'll
naturally. Its a morbid curiosity
that brings you here. Better drop it,
girl. 1t won't do you any good in the
eyes of sensible people"
THANK you" was her demure reply,
her lips dimpling at the corners in q
way to shock the sensitive Mr.. Suther-
land
CHANGING from her to the still out
lines Of the noble figure on the couch,
he remarked with an air Of mild re-
proof:
II do not understand you. Miss Page.
If this solemn sight has no power to
stop your coquetries nothing can. AS
for your curiosity, it is both i'll timed
and unwomanly. Let me see you leave
this house at once, Miss Page. and il
in the few hours which must elapse
before breakfast you can find time to
pack your trunks, youswill still further
oblige me-"
oh. don't send me away, entreat
you"
1t was cry from her inner heart,
which she probably regretted. for she
instantly sought to cover up the anxi-
ETY. it showed by submissive bend Of
the head and a step backward. Neither
Mr.. Fenton nor Mr.. Sutherland seemed
to hear the one or see the other, their
attention having returned to the more
serious matter in hand
The dress which our poor friend
wears shows her to have been struck
before retiring" commented Mr.. Suth-
erland. after another short survey OF
Mrs. Webb'sl figure. IF Philemon
Excuse me. sir" interrupted voice,
but the young woman is listening to
what you say. She is still in the hall"
1t was the young man speaking, who
had been left in the hall is
"She is is. sher exclaimed Fenton
sharply. his admiration for the fascin-
ating stranger having oozed out at his
companions rebuff. Il will soon show
her But the words melted into thin
air as he reached the door. The young
girl had disappeared. and only faint
perfume remained in the place where
she had stood
"A most extraordinary person.
grumbled the constable. turning back.
but stopping again as a. faint murmur
came up from below.
The gentleman is waking" called
up. a voice whose lack Of music was
quite perceptible at distance.
With a bound Mr.. Fenton descended
the stairs, followed by Mr.. Sutherland.
Miss Page stood before the door, of
the room in whiclt sat sshileinony Webb.
AS they reached her side she made a
little bow that was half hooking, half
deprecatory, and slipped from the
house. An almost unbearable sensa-
ton of incongruity vanished with her.
and Mr.. Sutherland, for one, breathed
like man relieved.
II wish the doctor would come"
Fenton said. as they watched the slow
lifting of Philemon Webb's head. "Our
fastest rider has gone for4him, but he's
out Dorchester way, and it may be an
hour vet before he can get here
"Philemonw
Mr. Sutherland had advanced and
was standing by his old friends side.
philemon, what has become of your
guests? You've waited for them here
till morning" s''
The old man with dazed look sur
veyed the two plates set on either, side.
of him and shook his head.
flames and John are getting proud
said he, ''or they forget. they forget"
James and John. He must mean the
Fables, yet there were many others
answering to these names in town. Mr..
Sutherland made another, effort.
philemon, where is your wife? lido
not see any place set here for hery'
"Agatha's sick, Agatha's crasg; she
don't care for poor old man like me.''
"Agatha's dead and you know it,"
Numbered back the constable with ILL
judged severity. Who killed her? Tell
me that. Who killed her?'
A sudden quenching of the last spark
OF intelligence in the old mans eye
was the dreadful effect of these words.
Laughing with that strange gurgle
which proclaims an utterly irresponsi-
BILE mind, he cried:
THE pussy cat! 1t was the pussy
cat. Who's killed? I'm not killed.
Let's go to Jericho"
Mr.. Sutherland took him by the arm
and led him upstairs. Perhaps the
sight of his dead wife would restore
him. But he looked at her with the
same Indifference he showed to every
thing else.
Il don't like her calico dresses" said
he. "She might have worn silk, but
she wouldn't. Agatha. will you wear
silk to my funeral?'
The experiment was too painful, and
they drew him away. But the consta-
ble's curiosity had been reused, and
after they had found some one to take
care of him he drew Mr.. Sutherland
aside and said:
"What did the old man mean by say
ing she might have worn silk? Are
they better off than they seem?''
Mr.. Sutherland closed the door before
replying.
"They are rich" he declared to the
utter amazement Of the other THAT