The House of Whispers

m, with its light chintz-covered furniture, its well-filled bamboo bookcases, its little

pale blue cashmere, drew up an armchair, and, arranging her elec

ts upon her book. But all to no purpose. Ever and anon she would lift her big eyes from the printed page, sigh, and stare fixedly at the rose-coloured trellis pattern of

there were guests from the neighbourhood, she was compelled to sing one or other of her Italian songs. Her refusal to come to dinner would, sh

r. It was Hill, who, on receiving permission to enter, said, "If you please, mi

me words were scribbled in pencil. For a moment after reading the

e man replied, and, b

t, oppressive night. The moon was hidden behind dark clouds, and the stillness was precursory of the thunderstorm which for the past hour or so had threatened. Acro

t her neck, she crept along the corridor and down the wide oak stairs. Lights were still burning; but without

night. Scarce had she gone a hundred yards when a dark figure in overco

ding till he pressed it to his lips, "I began to fear

w that if I went in to dinner mother would want me to sing, and I really

u were invisible. I've run the car down the farm-road on the other side of the park, and left it ther

long the dark path, he with her

pot at the end of the glen, and waited nearly two hours; but you did not come, although you promised me, you k

er has very much to attend to just now, and I'm compelled to

t half-an-hour sometimes," he s

urely see each o

in the darkness and raising her soft little hand to his eag

blank tone. Her own heart bea

aith with you? I know I was absent a long time, but it was really not my own fault. My people made me go round the world. I

ith her hand upon his shoulder. "But I do wish you wouldn't reproa

. "I have no right to do so; but somehow you have of late grown

ed, a strange, hollow la

ot so particular about our meetings being clandestine.

nd the truth of the modern religion which holds

in all your actions?" he de

ing in his direction. "Why, I fear no

me in secret because-well, because you are af

now that we love each other? Besides, I am surely my own mistress. I wou

really do love me, after all

s neck and kissing him. "How foolish of you to ask such a question, Walter! When

as I do are apt to be som

her lips to his and kissing him. "You know I love you, Walter; therefore you shou

cried. "What re

"I repeat again that my affection for you is undiminished,

ears than the declaration of your love. My only regret is that, now I am at

you-because-well, because I can't." And, drawing a long breath, she added, "All I beg of you is to remain patient and trus

, dainty form in his arms. The young m

he was trying against her will to hold aloof from Walter Murie, yet she loved him with all her heart and soul. Many letters she had addressed to him in his travels had remained

r sake. Suppose he knew the truth! Whatever sacrifice he made would, alas! not alter facts. If she confessed, he would only hate her. Ah, the tragedy of it all! Therefore she held her silence; she dared not speak lest

o marry her. But, she told herself within her grief-stricken heart, such a thing could never be. A barri

ng to the exertion of walking over the rough path. Therefore they halted, and, with the bright summer moon

ing seen by any of the keepers who, at night, usually patrolled the estate. Their walk, however, lay at the farther end of the

art they were fervent and passionate, but on the part of his idol they were, al

ay the house. They found the path, and there, at her request, he left her.

his cap, and saying, "Good-night, my darling, my own well-beloved!" he turned away and wen

into the dark, winding path beneath the trees, the en

a narrower path to the left, and was soon on the outsk

ing of the Ruthven Water. A great owl flapped lazily from the ivy as she approached those historic old walls which in bygone days had held within them some of Scotland's greatest men. She had explored and knew every nook and cranny in those extensive ruins. With Walter's assistance, she had once made a perilous ascent to the top of the highest of th

ministered. Other big trees had sprung from seedlings since the place had fallen into ruin; and, having entered, she paused amidst its weird, impressive silence. Those high, ponderous walls ab

her. Many romantic legends had, indeed, been handed down in Perthshire from generation to generation concerning old Glencardine and its lawless masters, and for her they had

the glen, a strange thing occurred-something which startled her, causing her to halt breathless, petrified, rooted to the spot. She star