Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-03-15
JANET'S IMPULSE
BY MILDRED WHITE.

How different, how woefully different
her life had become in one short year.
Then, there had been the cozy home,
with father, now, she was alone.
1t was always at this time of the
New Year that the chosen few had
made a jolly house party in Lucretia
NewelIs stately home among the coun-
try hills. Lucretia had been a college
sister and her intimates thereafter
we're remembered with the annual in
vitation. What anticipated times of
delightful excitement those visits had
beeni Lucretia's elder bachelor broth
err was a ~tireless entertaining host, and
his friend-quick rebellious tears filed
Janet's eyes, at the memory of John
Newelrs friend. Like the rest he had
forgottenl How carelessly they had
those gay carefree people; and upon
her own sea of misfortune Janet had
been too busy to recall herself to their
selfish minds.
Johns friends name was often In the
papers. Only last week there had been
a notice Of his departure for the
South; we'll, why should he remember
a few days in a hillside country
a stolen kiss at parting? Janet was
glad that the miles stretched between,
glad that in the separating gulf their
different stations made, he might not
know that she still remembered. The
others would be there nc doubt this
wintry afternoon, making merry to-
gether in the great house upon the hill.
Janet jumped up suddenly, her eyes
shining with impulsive purpose. Why
not go to them?
With cheeks aglow the girl drew
from the clothes-press her fur cloak,
relic of more prosperous times. Be-
meath it she could wear her little white
summer frock, the black wooden must
be discarded. Like the old-time Janet
she felt, as she hurried down the steep
stairs; the five-thirty for Hillcrest
would be almost due. She reflected,
gazing from the blurred a window,
that 1t might have been wiser to have
telephoned her coming, but taking
llcln ny uApllSCs NOdAN ~ 80 SNAe
better her present mood.
1t was rather d~iscouraging not to
find Old Ben, the driver, watching. His
had been the task of meeting all trains.
No other vehicle, it was evident, had
ventured out into the storm. Vaguely
apprehensive of disappointment the
girl turned up the warm collar of her
cloak, and pushed her way through
roadside drifts. Here and there b light
twinkled; the great house was still
some distance away. Almost she was
| tempted to turn back and seek shelter
in the station, but the thought of-the
great log fireplace in the tower room
with its circle of dear familiar faces,
gave her fresh courage to press on.
The house was not illuminated as
though for guests. The light showing
through the glass door was softly sub
dued. Janet heard her summoning
ring echo into silence, but there was
no response. Hopefully she made her
way to the ear entrance. Here all was
darkness.
D%isheartened she came back, past
the side iron spiral stairway. No,
there high from the tower came
a welcoming CLEAN. With fast beat
ing heart she slowly assembled the icy
| stair. She would open the door and
slip in among them, a weary little
ghost from their past. The door was
difficult to open, but unlocked as she
expected. When had Hillcrest people
thought of locked doors? Then Janet
entered the room. AS of old, the log
fire burned cheerily-nearby stood the
same fireside chair, but the comfort
able big room was vacant. Perplexed
she passed down the halls. Silence net
her everywhere. Then because the
storm still swept without, because
there seemed nothing else to do, Janet
threw aside her fur coat.
Porter Holden was that same night
Disguised with life. This new year
seemed to have begun with less prom
Use than the other. Last year, at least
he had known dreams of happiness,
though their fulfillment was never to
be. With each battling step of his re-
turn to the old Newell mansion, his
thoughts reverted to the bright-faced
girl, who had made his last stay there
so pleasant. And she had vanished
from them all-forever. John Newell
had coaxed him back to the vacant old
place tonight-he had just left John
at the agents. Old Ben would have
lights and fires going, John had said,
so Holden made his way up the spiral
stair. The door yielded more easily
this time, and the man stood for a
moment blinking his bewildered eyes.
In the light of the fire sat a white
clad girlish figure, her red lips parted
wonderingly.
'You?" she breathed.
81 am not going to speak," Holden
said slowly, 'for If you are a vision,
you will vanish"
- - a.