Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1924-08-07

] She could not believe her ears
when his voice came in answer to
her cry.
MARY! Good heavens! What has hap
pened?' And the next moment his arm
round her, and she was sobbing hys-
tericaly his shoulder.
"Take me away! Take me away! can't
stay here; I'm afraid of this place!"
MY dear child"
He half led, half carried her back to the
inhabited part of the house; he took her into
his own study, and shut the door, then he
put her gently into an armchair and knelt
beside her, keeping an arm around her shud-
dering frame.
"You are quite all right; nothing can hurt
you. What frightened you? l was only gone
a moment; / couldn't find the light.
wouldn't have left you for worlds if I'd
known you were nervous!"
Something in his voice stopped her Sob
bling; she looked up at him, trying to smile.
"You were so long, and l got lonely. L
I-oh, [ believe 1 saw the ghost!"
"Nonsense!" He laughed little 'It's
just your imagination. / am sure you never
saw any ghost; it must have been the moon.
light"
His quiet voice treasured her; she wiped
her eyes vigorously Presently David took
his arm away and rose to his feet
He had turned on all the lights in the
room; now he stopped, and poked the fire.
into blaze. :
"And a few moments ago." he said whim-
sically, "you told me that you would like to
live in that part of the house"
Then | have changed my mind;
shouldn't like it at ALL"
He stood with elbow on the manteI-
shelf, looking down at her with thoughtful
eyes. Then:
"Do you think you could ever care for
man who was not-Nigel?" he asked sud-
denly.
The startled color dyed her cheeks.
"I-I-care for man." F
eyes"
II don't know II haven't thought Why
do you ask me?"
Because l think you would be much hap
pier if you were to marry-again." The last
word sounded like an afterthought.
Mary said nothing; she sat screwing her
wet handkerchief into the palm of her hand;
her face looked somehow pathetic.
81 hope you are not angry with me?" said
David, gently.
She shook her head.
With everything he did and said, he SEEM
ed to nail her to her lie, she thought
wretchedly. She had not imagined it would
be so difficult to go through with it when
she first started on this venture.
She had wronged a dead mans memory as
much-more than the wife who had so soon
forgotten him; and now she was cheating
his living brother.
She raised her eyes to David's face, but he
was no longer looking at her; he staring
out across the room with rather somber eyes.
Mary rose to her feet.
Il think L will go and find Miss Varney"
She hesitated, and added nervousy "You
won't-you won't tell her that-that 1 have
been so silly?"
He looked at her then.
'You have not been silly; and, anyway, I
shall not tell her"
Mary went away then. She went to her
own room, and bathed her face and
smoothed her hair She was ashamed she
had behaved like a coward, land yet-she
could not believe that that shadowy gray
figure had been only imagination. She was
sure in her own heart that she had really
seen the gray ghost.
She only came when shame or danger
threatened the family! Was that danger or
shame to come through her-Mary?
She went down to the drawing room,
where Miss Varney sat.
'Well. dear?" she looked up at the girl
smilingly. Did you see all the wonders?"
"Ony some of them; it was cold, so we
came back" She held her hands to the fire.
She was surprised to find that she was
still trembling.
Miss Varney went on knitting. The little
click click of the needles got on Mary's
nerves. All at once they ceased.
"By the way, dear, there is letter on
the shelf for you; it came after dinner, by
the last post"
For me?"
Mary looked up On surprise. There was
nobody from whom she was expecting to
hear. She rose to her feet.
The letter stood against the clock; It
addressed in a hand Mary had never
seen before. She opened the envelope
curiOusly.
MRS. Nigel Bretherton." Tt was the first
time she had received letter so addressedtz
it made her pulse flutter guiltly.
There was short note and an enclosure
inside
The note ram
Dear Mrs. Bretherton-The enclosed was
forwarded to me from your late address.
The letter presumably is for your friend,
Miss Furnival who, 1 believe, died some
weeks back.
Your faithfully,
MONTAGUE FISCHER.
Mary stood quite still for a moment; she
had horrible feeling of disaster. Presently
she stopped and mechanically picked up the
enclosure which had fallen to the floor IL
was a letter with the Argentine stamp, adj
dressed in DolIy's handwriting.
Saturday-"Dolly's Letter." Renew your
subscription now to avoid missing a chap
ter of this splendid story.