Готель з привидами

           IshallcrosstheChannelbythemailto-night,andseehowafewweeks’changewillhelpme.’Hetookherhand.’IsthereanythingintheworldthatIcandoforyou?’heaskedveryearnestly.Shethankedhim,andtriedtoreleaseherhand.Hehelditwithatremulouslingeringgrasp.’Godblessyou,Agnes!’hesaidinfalteringtones,withhiseyesontheground.Herfaceflushedagain,andthenextinstantturnedpalerthanever;sheknewhisheartaswellasheknewithimself—shewastoodistressedtospeak.Heliftedherhandtohislips,kisseditfervently,and,withoutlookingatheragain,lefttheroom.Thenursehobbledafterhimtotheheadofthestairs:shehadnotforgottenthetimewhentheyoungerbrotherhadbeentheunsuccessfulrivaloftheelderforthehandofAgnes.’Don’tbedown-hearted,MasterHenry,’whisperedtheoldwoman,withtheunscrupulouscommonsenseofpersonsinthelowerrankoflife.’Tryheragain,whenyoucomeback!’

           Leftaloneforafewmoments,Agnestookaturnintheroom,tryingtocomposeherself.Shepausedbeforealittlewater-colourdrawingonthewall,whichhadbelongedtohermother:itwasherownportraitwhenshewasachild.’Howmuchhappierweshouldbe,’shethoughttoherselfsadly,’ifwenevergrewup!’

           Thecourier’swifewasshownin—alittlemeekmelancholywoman,withwhiteeyelashes,andwateryeyes,whocurtseyeddeferentiallyandwastroubledwithasmallchroniccough.Agnesshookhandswithherkindly.