The Coolidge examiner., 1936-12-24
MONDAY-Continued

Presently I got up and put on
my hat, strolled down the steps
into the garden Sarah Darbe, COM
ing out of the garden with her
bunch of flowers for the dining
room table, smiled with pleased
expression. You're going out at
last, Mrs. Avery" she approved.
Yes" 1 answered. do you
realize, Sarah, that here it is Mon
day and 1 haven't left this house
since Friday night?"
Il know that, Mrs. Avery" Sar-
ah declared earnestly. "And I'm
glad you're getting away for a
while. 1 wish you were lunching
somewhere.
Il don't feel like that quite yet, !"
admitted. ''In case anybody
telephones, shan't be gone long"
1 walked down my sloping drive
way to the main road. At the road
I turned to the left, toward the
ocean - eastwardly, technically
speaking. My land runs to the
beach, bordering a road, pretty
with sumach, wild cherries, wild
grape and goldenrod. I turned up
the Head, stopped at the first house
I came to, tapped gently on the
door with the old knocker.
Neat in her summer print and a
big all-enveloping apron, Hannah
Hatfield opened the door.
Hannah had been housekeeper in
the Fairweather house for forty
years. Her ashen face is as ex-
pressionless as this sheet of paper
and her dead, pale eyes, despite
their furtive glancing, never seem
to change. But perhaps Hannah
only reflects that strange mysteri-
Gus quality which, ever since they
were young girls, has laid its pail
on the Fairweather sisters.
Good morning, Hannah!" I said.
''Oh, Mis- Avery!" she exclaimed
in what 1 might describe as full
whisper. ITO think of it's being
you. How glad I am-how glad
Miss Margaret will be to see you!
What an awful thing to happen on
the Head"
l answered her hushed tone with
one equally hushed. Eyes, awful!
I'm glad Miss Margaret's in. I
would like to speak to her if I may.
1 hope Miss Flora is not worse.
Do you suppose she can leave her
for a moment?"
-'Oh, I'm sure she will see you,"
Hannah reassured me.
How are you feeling, Hannah?"
I asked casually.
I'm all right now, but I have
been feeling all tuckered out. Why
the other night-the night of the
m,lrder-I was sitting up with Miss
Flora and I fell asleep in my chair.
1 slept like the dead. I must have
slept for hours"
Miss Flora must have been
sleeping too" I commented me-
chemically.
Yes, Mis- Avery, she was asleep
when l woke up. Will you wait in
the living-room, Mis- Avery, or
would you like to go out on the
piazza?" s....
IN 60 out on the piazza, Han
nah! l haven't seen the sea for
two days"
l made my way through the
broad hall to glass door at the
back, the panes of which the sun
had transmitted into golden plates.
The FairWeather house faces on the
road, but the living quarters look
onto the sea. The big glassed-in
piazza is really an extension of the
living-rOom-What with its couches
and tables, books and magazines,
crlckets and reading lamps. 1t was
IN perfect order, as was the rest
of the house. Yet there fingered
even IN this atmosphere, the in
tangible odor of invalidism-medi-
cines, hot water bottles, COM
presses cold and hot-its sinister
hush weighted it.
Presently there came a step at
my side. "Oh Margaret!" 1 ex-
claimed still in my hushed tone.
and springing to my feet. ''How are
you, my dear? And how is Flora?"
"Flora's about the same" Mar
garet Fairweather answered. And
as for me, I'm always we'll"
You look frightfully tired today,
Margaret" 1 said.
And indeed 1 was Mortified at
her appearance. Margaret Fair
weather is tall, big woman-pow-
erful, 1 might say; broad-shoul-
dered with big, fine muscular
hands. Only a few years before.
she had been our star woman-ath-
lete-tennis, golf, swimming; she
was even an expert fencer. But
when Flora started on the long
road which was to lead to her
agonizing death. Margaret dropped
every outside interest; devoted her
self to her sister.
I'D like to talk with you, Mar
garet. Could you walk a little way
along up the Head? l wouldn't keen
vo,l moro than n minute,