Miracle Gold (Vol. 1 of 3)

three minutes. It's the last train up to town this

d caught one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof of the

n had left, the enquirer seemed in great distress, and she was young and beautiful. "Any luggage, miss? If you have

Her lips were drawn back and slightly parted. She still kept her hand on the wooden

of female charms, thought the girl was growing faint. He said: "If

a moment her mental powers were prostrated, but her physical force was in no danger of giving way. With a start and a shiver, she recovered enough pre

h me." She looked around apprehens

me to call a fly

a pace with a look of surprise and disappointment, she added hastily, "I do not want

miss;

other. She knew heavy summer rain was falling and had been falling for more than an hour; she knew that she had walked two miles through the rain with only a light summer cloak and small umbrella to protect her from it, and she knew that she could not use a cab or fly for two reasons; first, she cou

utiful girl. He would have done any service he could for her merely that he might come and go near where she stood, within the magic radi

indless air. It was an evening towards the end of June--the last Wednesday of that month. There was not

den pillar, and gathered her cloak

o walk?" asked the man. Offering service was the

n; she asked instead: "Do you

rain all night." If she had been a plain girl of the dumpy order, or his own degree, he would have tried to make himself agreeable by prophesying pleasant things. But the high privilege of a

ved with down dropped eyes and drooping head, slowly out of the station, raised her umbrella and, turning sharply to th

fume of multitudinous roses made the soft air heavy with richness. No sound reached the young girl but the faint clatter of the rain upon the viewless leaves overhead, the pit and splash

the blood. She was tired, and would have liked to sit down and rest, but neither time nor place allowed of pause. She must get on--she must get back as quickly as possible, or she might be too late, to

She heard the patter of the rain near and the murmur of it abroad upon grass and trees. But there was some other sound. A sound nea

at this sound could be. Then she started. It was much nearer than she

that the best way to overcome the affection was by keeping still and avoiding alarm of any kind. She would stand and, instead of thinking about the unpleasantness and risk of going back to Eltham House, fix her mind upon the events which p

had been so long with Mrs. Grace, she thought the thing to suit her best would be a companionship to an elderly or invalid lady. She advertised in the daily papers, and the most promising-looking reply came from Mr. Oscar Leigh, of Eltham House, Millway

so much overcome by the notion of impending separation between her and Edith, that she took no particular notice of Mr. Leigh, and looked upon him simply as a man indifferent to her, save that he was arranging to

e of a dull brown yellow colour. His teeth were fang-like and yellow. His voice hollow when he spoke low, and harsh when he raised it. His breath came in short gasps now and then, and with sounds, as though it disturbed dry bones in its course. He drooped towards the right side, and carried a short and unusually thick stick, with huge rugged and battered crook. When he stood still for any time, he leant upon this stick, keeping his skinny, greedy, cla

said. "You will have to make your mind up to one cr

ked Mrs. Grace. And then, without waiting for an answe

adam? What will you

ve to do wi

. "You are to be pitied, madam. You are, indeed, to be pitied, madam.

ke in the old woman,

in your heart to do without me." He was standing leaning his misshapen, crooked body on his misshapen, crooked stick. He did not move his right hand from his waist, into which it was packed and driven by the weight of his body upon the handle of the stick. He put

actless old woman, "I dare

ith eyes in which boldness and scorn seemed stra

joy at the notion of seeing little of t

ed, and it had been arranged that she

he first time in her life. She had got there at noon and driven straight to Eltham House, two miles south of the little coast town. The hire of the cab had made considerable inroad on the money in her pocket. The sum was now reduced to only a few pence more than her mere train fare to London--not allowing even fo

e house his was the first face and figure she laid eyes on. He had opened the door for her and welcomed her to Eltham House, and on the very threshold he had attempted to kiss her

y attempt wa

road, beyond the trees where the grass and corn lay under the invisi

here else to go. For lack of courage and money she could not venture upon an hotel. She had never been from home a

o welcome her in patriarchal fashion to his house! Patriarchal fashion, indeed! He had himself said he knew he was not an Adonis, but that he was not a Methuselah either, and his poor, simple, paralysed mother told her he was thirty-five years old. She would not take all the money in the world to stay in a house to which he was free. At eight o'clock that evening she had pleaded fatig

il eleven o'clock, when she locked it before going to bed in the lodge. So that if she got back at any hour before eleven, she could slip in through the gate and get over the low sill of her bed-room wi

She would go on. Heaven grant s