The Farmville herald. [volume] (Farmville, Va.) 1890-1934, 1903-05-29

tenance, using all his efforts to get
80.
Hold the windows down! Oh,
Aunt Dorothy. help met" screamed
Brenda. springing for the sash.
"Wait. child wait. Ask him what
he wants. Ask him that, anyway,
whether he is a ghost or mott" cried
Aunt Dorothy.
brenda still hung upon the sash,
but fixed her haring eyes upon the
pale face outside. and called loudly,
What do You want? What do you
want here? No. no; you cannot
come I'M" as with eager gestures
not To be mistaken the apparition
signalcd his desire 10 enter.
Oh, God. it must be the deyil!"
groaned Aunt Dorothy. "IIe moves
his lips, but he don't make a sound!"
cried Aunt Dorothy, now even more
terrified than Brenda.
And now that the object Of their
terror appeared at a new window,
she followed her example and ran TO
hold il down with all her strength.
The cries Of the two could not fail
10 arouse the doctor. lie listened a
moment, and then. in his alarm, for
getting his illness. rose and drew on
his dressing-goWn and came quietly
down the stairs. There he stood be-
hind the unconscious women for sew
eral seconds, gazing in amazement
upon the scene.
stop stop" he cried at last, in
a voice Of command. "Why don't you
let him in? Why don't you let him
in ont Of the storm? 1t must be Mr..
Lorillard"
Brcnda's hands fell down, and she
turned toward her father, paralyzed
by his presence.
As soon as she did SO, the sash flew
mp and the stranger sprang into the
room. lie was dripping wet, with a
red scarf tied closely about his
throat.
why" he cried wildly, in a hoarse
whisper-'why, for Heavens sake, do
YOU refuse me your hospitality on
such a night as this?"
For a moment the whole group
stood silently looking at each other.
II Brenda and Dorothy looked with
wonder upon the stranger, with no
less astonishment he gazed upon
them.
you, DR.. Amberly-" he said, in
the same strange whisper, turning to
the doctor.
Eyes" he assented.
"You surely know that TO be ex-
posed to this storm in my con-
dition-"
ayes, yes, Mr. Lorilard. This is
some astounding mistake. Aunt
Dorothy, find him dry clothes and hot
drink at once. lie is my patient.
But /, too am sick"
Brenda sprang TO his side.
"Oh, father, father, this will kill
you!"
She hurried him back to bed, while
Aunt Dorothy silently took charge Of
the stranger.
The next day came explanations,
and this was Paul Lorillard's story:
The train had left him at Wellbridge
the day before. Mistaking the dis
tance 10 the Round House, he started
on foot, and, after a four-mile walk,
finally reached It quite late. The
night was inly dark, the knOcker so
high mp on the door that he could
not fiud it, aud there being no sign
Of any one awake in the house, he
had finally turned about and retraced
his steps 60 the village.
But on this, the second night, he
had been equally unfortunate, for in
the storm he had lost his way, and
found it with difficulty. But drenched
to the skin, In spite of his warm and
rich apparel, and knowing, in his pre-
carious condition of health, that his
life was in danger, he had determined
to get under shelter.
knowing that he was expected, he
could not understand this treatment.
His signs and movements Of the lips
only seemed TO make matters worse;
and, almost forced TO abandon his
efforts in despair. he was about to
return again TO the more hospitable
village tavern, when the resistance
ceased.
But one Of the wonders Of this
strange nights treatment was that
IL restored the voice that Lorillard
had been deprived Of for a year. His
liberal bath and severe exertions,
added to by a deep sleep and profuse
perspiration, altered and improved
his condition to this surprising ex-
tent.
Wen, he was the doctors guest,
however, il not his patient, detained
BY the earnest desire Of all the fami-
Is, TO atone for the seeming heart
Iessness and inhospitality Of that
first evening, and proving himself a
gentleman and a very capi-
tai fellow, my story must end with
the announcement that Brenda event
ually married her ghost.-People's
Home Journal.