The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1911-05-16
O6e
A1abaSter
Hand
It Was the Cause Of a Very
Ludicrous Mistake
By Clarissa Mackie
Copyright by American Press Aass
citation, 1911

A. obASISASu away LAOm luo BuLbeTluk
thoroughfare like a dimly lighted tun-
mel The long blocks were composed
of rather old fashioned red brick
dwellings, the more pretentious faced
with brownstone.
Lucien Braddock had chosen Blank
street as the shortest cut to his apart
ments in the Circle hotel, which held
itself exclusively apart from the ave-
nues, where trains roared above and
below the ground and electric cars
whizzed on the surface between the
| two.
On this particular night Lucien
traversed the street with unaccustom-
ed haste. The rain fell with slanting,
| singing steadiness The drops drum
med on bis umbrella and battered
against the smooth surface of his mack
intosh Once or twice he poked his
head out from under the umbrella to
take survey of his surroundings
On the second occasion be saw it and
stopped short in his tracks to stare up
at lighted parlor window.
Lucien Braddock had heard of beau
tiful hands, he had read in novels Of
marble brows" and "alabaster hands
and arms" but In the course Of his
prosaic existence he had never come
across these marks of feminine lowell
ness. He had seen pretty hands
Some were white. and others were
tanned with summer sunshine, but
never had he seen a woman's hand
that might be likened to the alabaster
ones of his novel reading days.
Now he saw 1t.
1t was white as snow or marble or
the alabaster of his novels; perfect In
shape. with small fingers. tapering to
a point. For an instant he saw tho
whole hand; then the woman's other.
hand was lifted, and the shade was
drawn to The sill of the window.
For the first time since he had paus.
ed before the window Braddock be-
came aware that he was violating all
the rules of politeness. Never before
had he stared into a window In this
manner. and now he turned hastily
and resumed his way through the pelt-
ing rain with mingled shame and Gu
riosity
The recollection of the white hand
he had seen impressed him strangely.
1t had looked so dead white, SO lifeless,
SO rigid. as compared to the careless
grace of the woman's other arm as she
reached up to pull down the shade.
His mind pictured a dozen situations
that might account for the peculiar
wilderness Of the hand. The one which
found most favor with him was that
the beautiful hand was paralyzed and
quite bloodleSs.
When he arrived at his hotel he dis
missed the subject from his mind and
went about his evening engagements
with his customary vigorous interest
Every night as he passed through
Blank street his eyes involuntarily
turned toward the block where stood
the house that interested him. 1t was
some time before he could locate the
particular house. because 1t was mere
ly by the mellow lighting of the room
or the figure of the woman who had
stood there that he might hope to rec
ognize the place once more.
Then came another evening, when he
was sauntering homeward with a pleas
ant anticipation of the excellent dinner
that would await his arrival home.
there flashed on his view the same pic
ture that he had seen once before on
that rainy night. The same woman
stood there holding back the rose col
ored curtains with that dead white
hand.
Once more Lucien Braddock paused
and stared up at the picture This
time he gazed at the woman's head
framed in its mist of dark hair. Her
face was In shadow. but he fancied
that she must be beautiful. and as she
did not stir from her position nor
make any attempt to pull down the
shade he was suddenly smitten with
a sense Of his own rudeness, and, with
an involuntary removal of his hat, he
passed on.
Then it was that a low, amused
laugh broke the silence of the street.
Lucien stopped and looked around. He
could have sworn that the laugh came
from the vestibule of the house. The
front door was slightly ajar, and
through the glass panel red light
shot down upon the sidewalk. With
shrug Of the shoulders and an I'M
comfortable feeling he went on. He
resolved that he would not let curiosi-
"a, n tt ~
Blank street He would walk one
more block and traverse another street.
Weeks passed. and Braddock had
| quite forgotten the incident of the wo-
man with the alabaster hand. Bust
ness affairs of unusual Importance oc-
cupied his attention to the exclusion
of amusements, and he found life filed
to the brim with action
When the strain was removed. on the
evening of the very day on which he
had won the case which was to make
him famous among lawyers. he rode
home on the electric car and from
force of habit dropped OF at the cor
ner of Blank street
He had gone half its length when he
was conscious Of some disturbance In
one Of the staid red brick dwellings
A bright light hickered against the
windows. and a maidservant stood on
the porch screaming Historically.
Lucien took in the situation at n
glance and Ieaped up the steps and into
the house of the woman with the ala
baster hand. Just now he had caught
glimpse Of her in her customary at
titude of graceful negligence leaning
forward, one hand holding back silken
draperies while the white lace curtains
above her head were blazing fierrely.
He passed the servant at bound,
gained the ball and turned into the
door that led into the front parlor Of
the house. As be did so he was con-
scious that woman had come swiftly
down the stairs and was following
closely behind him.
| The room was unoccupied save for
that strangely unconscious form in the
window. Lucien never forgot the quiet
elegance of the room, with its rich
rugs and tapestried walls, it's air OF
homelike comfort.
1t took but an instant to tear down
the lace draperies and to trample
them under foot. Then he was free
to take the form of the lady Of the
alabaster hand in his arms and carry
her to a place Of safety.
Good heavens. MADAME he breath.
ed in her ear as lie attempted to draw
her away from the window. But she
was strangely rigid in his arms, and
he felt little thrill Of horror In the
discovery that she was quite cold. In
deed, the little white hand that fell
coldly upon his was like the iciness OF
alabaster or its sister-marble.