Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-10-12
CHAPTER XVI.
Some Leaves From Paulette's Journal

Sono Leaves from FautoetSs S0o'Ho'
June 15.-From my heart l do dis
trust Hilda Burr. I CHANGED this
morning to stumble upon her as she
sat looking over a pile of household
linen in the grim old dining-room. Sne
glanced up quickly with one Of her
meaningless smiles.
"Wil you not be seated?" she said
she Is always particularly polite to
me. 81 was just pondering upon your
odd little name, Miss Rale. 1t is quite
rare-I do not remember to have ever
heard 1t but once before"
Indeed" said 1.
And the person who then bore 1t
was a comedy actress-'Little Pau
lette,' they called her on the bills. It's
not at all likely you ever saw her."
II? Certainly have!" cried, airily;
"hosts of times! She always drew
crowded houses-I recollect her WE'LL
And then, for / was not anxious to
pursue the subject, 1 asked, Has any
thing unusual happened about the
house? Everybody seems to be miss
ing this morning-guardy, Mr.. Trent
yes, everybody"
Miss Burr shook some crumpled
sprigs Of lavender from out the linen
There has ben a stabbling affair
betwixt Crisp and another black at
one Of the neighboring estates. Rose,
my maid, the cause. The general went
over to investigate. AS for Crisp, he
is dead"
With that she gathered up her
linen and went away. I dawdled about
the room awhile, looking at the por-
traits on the panels, my eyes wander
ing constantly, with a sort Of horrible
fascination, to the brown, boyish face
of the stripping Arthur Guilte, which
hung above me in a shadow. A week
has passed since Hilda Burr read aloud
to me the tidings of ST. Johns death
"I am free" I said, and shuddered
as said it.
Did l ever love him? No. His men,
ory seems like a hideous nightmare
"A
me at news Of his death; but grief
the mad, despairing grief Of love-no
1 have felt none Of that! I sat down
at Hilda's piano, which she keeps in
this room and NOR. to drown my own
thoughts than anything else, began to
play. An old Scotch song that Sibyl
Arnault used to sing at st. Catharine's
came bubbling to my lips.
Hear what Highland Nora said,
The earlie's son l will not wed,
Should all the race Of nature die,
And none be left but he and /,
For all the good for all the gear,
And all the lands both far and near
That ever valor lost or won,
l would not wed the earlie's son."
The piano stood in corner, directly
urder Arthur Guilte's portrait AS
sat my back was to the deep window
embowered in dog roses. Suddenly
seemed TO hear from that quarter q
movement, a deep-drawn sigh.
The delusion was so strong that
turning with a great thrill, I fancied
saw the shadow of human figure
stretching betwixt me and the light;
but the next moment it vanished. Only
the dog-roses and the jasmin danced
there in the wind. The arpeggios were
bounding out from my finger ends
again when the door opened and q
step crossed the room and paused al
my side. 1 looked up and saw Mr.
George Trent.
Nay, do not rise," he said. hurriedly
What a blessing to find you here
alone! You have held aloof from me
these past few days as from a pesti-
lence"
IT was not aware of it," answered
as carelessly as I could. Have you
also, been seeking Crisp's murderer"
Yes; but in vain. He is not to bt
found, and pretty Rose is in trouble
Talleyrand never heard Of a disaster
without asking what woman was a.