Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-10-08

GUILD Htlc-huoWluS Iue pidCe wa
 haunted"
 q had great fear. But my longing
 read the books was even greater"
 "Your refusal to tell me the othe
 evening how you came by the feV
 books you had read-you were afrai
 I might betray you"
 Always the great dread has bee
 upon me of having this only pleasan
 thing in my life taken away from nc
 It has made me cautious. But woul,
 trust you now" she said with q re
 strained eagerness, with any secre
 had-I would trust you toto the ut
 termostw
 Thank you, Eunice," he answered
 gravely, an odd feeling of pleasure
 stirring in his heart
 He drew himself up and leaned to
 ward the bookcase, examining in the
 light of his new knowledge their titles
 "So then 1t has been your secret read
 ing that has made of you such ar
 anomaly in the midst of these Morning
 stars. Living among them, but never
 of them, your real life has been spent in the world of fiction and history and poetry. Yes" he nodded, T begin to see daylight now"
 AS psychologist he felt an almost exciting interest in her as a case to be studied, with her peculiar mental equipment of really extensive knowl- edge of literature, combined with an absolute ignorance of actual life, and tho affcctional and emotional side of her nature left utterly dormant.
 twill you tell me-" she timidly urged, Whether you have been told the story of this room? I know there is a story connected with it, but it has always been kept from me-"
 Although Kinross held it to be an old fogy notion that a girl should be guarded from all knowledge of evil, yet he had an instinctive aversion to pouring into the ears of this childlike maiden the story of the crime which Mrs. Morningstar had related to him.
 On second thoughts, however, why should he hesitate when she had nerves steady enough to meet q ghost and will so firm that in all these years she had kept the secret of her reading, unconsciously educating herself thereby possibly far beyond what many girl gained from T systematic schooling? Surely the girl had race back of her, with her cour- age to face q ghost, her love of books so strong as to overcome obstacles that would have daunted any ordinary character and her native refinement of thought and instinct which he felt in her presence so keenly.
 But he bethought him of another reason why he did not wish to repeat o her at once Mrs. Morningstars tale. There was the paper he had thrust in- o his pocket at the sound of her step Il the hall bearing that confession" Until he had read that he would rath- 1T tell her nohing.
 Twill you wait" he begged her, land ct me think it over first before tell 'ou what l know? Believe me-" he ldded as he saw her look of disap- that hold your welfare acred and that in asking you to wait
 do what seems to me to be for your ,ood."
 He was surprised at the glow which rradiated her countenance at his l words. She was so unused to being he reflecSfl. that a mere one of kindness called forth all the 1tent brightness of her soul. Little i'd he dream how his words sang in CT ears, "I hold your welfare sacred" nd that the music of the spheres ould not have seemed to her more in spite of the fact that ince that night on the terrace her cart had been heavy with the knowl- 1Se that he loved Georgiana.
 T will wait" she said. an unwonted lrill in her voice that held him with S spell, until you are ready to tell e."
 A disturbing possibility had suddenly to him. Surely if that con- ssion" amounted to anything Eunice ould herself have found it out He Id supposed that he had come upon discovery, and he felt pang of dis )pointment as he realized the prob- 'ility of his having been mistaken. Those books on the top shelf, those llzacs," he suddenly said. they were e only books found dusty. An, of urse," he added, you don't read , 'ench; that's itr' , Then perhaps, after all, she had yer seen this paper in his breast , cket-extraOrdinary. indeed. if dur l all these years the secret of her l story should have thus been within I r reach and yet escaped her A de- | Q came to him to take it out and S Id it with her. but be thought better
 it.
 You know nothing really of your- f-yOur name. your origin, your life f fore you were left here with the |, . pensive droop to her lips as she f, 1Ok her head was her answer. After .. she looked up at him. her c ss almost solemn as she spoke. n Ou say it is for my good that you c thhOld for the time what you know fl this room. It is. then. as I have often m 'pected. bound up in some way with s, IifeT r, Te hesitated an instant. Let IS not Ii ak of it just yet. Eunicc" c, Very we'll" she acquiesced gently. S, I have so often wished she added. if at, if inanimate things can really fl