Dr. Rumsey's Patient

keep yourself quiet,

went on tiptoe to the door to assure herself over again that it was locked. She then

, "it is best to be certain ther

nd placed it on the cen

f in a sort of way she had committed the murder herself. The knowledge of the truth

t you speak to me?" a

that you have told me the tr

t likely that I could inv

intend to trust just to the mere word of a slip of a giddy gi

unt, I wish y

on't stir in the matter until I know it's gospel truth. Yes, there's your Testament-the Testament will do. Now, Hetty Armitage, hold this book in your hand

she had just lived through-the solemn, frightened expression of her aunt's face, irritated her

she said, holding the Testa

ert Awdrey kill Mr. Horace Frere on Salisbury Pla

e Frere on Salisbury Plain last night. This is the truth

k now, child,

sed it to

the Tes

ge took it

e world do you mean to

nsciences, and our secrets, compared to the Family? This book has not done its work yet. Now I am going to take an oath on the Testament. I

her words by pressing t

aid, giving the book b

sobs. Mrs. Armitage replaced the Testament

is a nice fellow, too. He showed me the photograph of his mother one day. She had white hair and eyes like his; she looked like a lady every inch of her. Mr. Everett said, 'I am her only child, Mrs. Armitage; I'm all s

ll, they cannot c

amily. There's not a second thought to be given to the matter. Sit down, Hetty; don't keep hovering about like that. I think I had better send you a

I can talk about it sometimes, and it won't lie so heavily on

e been dark deeds done before now, and the men who did them had no more memory of their own sin than if they were babies of a month old. There was a Squire-two generations back he was-my grandmother knew him-and he had a son. The mother was-! but there! where's the use of going into that. The mother died raving mad, and the Squire knew no more what he had done than the babe unborn. Folks call it the curse of God. It's an awful doom, and it always comes on just as it has fallen on the young Squire. There comes a fit of passio

that human face could have looked like that before. It was old-like the face of an old man. But I met him this evening, Aunt Fanny, and he had forgotten all about it, and he was jolly and happy, and they say he was seen with Miss Douglas to-day. The family had a picnic on the Plain, and Miss Douglas was there, with her

ady and his equal in other ways. He's happy, did you say? Maybe he is for a bit, but he's a gone man for all

nk of the Squire mar

tion, Hetty, and leave your betters to themselves. If you don't you'll get into awful trouble some day.

e, and the point of his sti

he do with

alders and thrust it into the

obert's walking-stick is well known-it has a silver plate upon it with his name. Years hence people may come across t

that, Aun

we must bury that stick

me-I can't go back

t find the exact spot myself. I'll go down first an

ce with cold water; she then rubbed it hard with a rough towel to take some of the tell-tale expression out of it.

I want yo

ed an hour ago, wife," he said. "Why,

having no end of a time with her; I came down to say th

e, though," he called after her, "see t

e, as she ascended the creaking stai

niece's bedroom a

et out last ni

h the w

me way now. They'll think we are in our bed-let them think it. Come, be quick-show me the way out. It's a goo

n she and Hetty were walking quickly in the direction of the Plain-they kept well in the shadow of the road and did not meet a soul the entire

Mrs. Armitage, "we must bury tha

ght of something-there's the pond half a mile away. Let us

thought, chil