The House of Mystery: An Episode in the Career of Rosalie Le Grange, Clairvoyant

about his chair, he selected another sheet. Always, he took advantage of this opportunity to face the chair across the aisle and to sweep a glance over a piquant little profile, intent on a sober-loo

aught just a flicker of her eye across her book

. As a traveler on many seas and much land, he knew the lonely longing to address the woman in the next seat. He knew also, as all seasoned travelers in America know, that such desire is sometimes gratified, and without any surrender of decency, in the frank and easy West-but never east of Chicago. This girl, however, exercise

lief that she "did" something-some subtle addition which he could not formulate confirmed that observation. He saw that her hands were long and tipped with nails no larger than a grain of maize, that when they rested for a moment on her face, in the shifting attitudes of her reading, they

onounced Mr. B

pped forward across a bar of sunshine the light shone through the bridge of her nose-a little observation charming to Blake, the man, but a guide to Blake, the physician. She had the look, Dr. Blake told himself, whic

e found, as he watched, no nervous twitching, no look as of an incipient sack under her eyes; nor did the transparen

to recognize. In all ways was it intertwined with the expression of her mouth. She had never smiled enough; therein lay all the trouble. She presented a very pretty problem to his imagination. Here she was, still

ward the dining-car. He smiled a little at himself as he realized that he was craftily scheming to find a seat, if not opposite her, at least within seeing distance. On a long and lonely day-journey, he told himself, travelers are li

old woman. He hesitated, stock still. The blonde girl shifted her position as though to take better hold of her burden, and glanced backward with a look of appeal. The doctor came forward on

women and one fussy, noisy man were coming up now. Dr. Blake waved them aside. "We need air most of all-open that window, will you?" The girl was back with the porter. "Is the compartment

the whole car to assist in this emergency. She was like one of those born trained nurses

compartment. He wet a towel in the pitcher at the washstand, wrung it out,

and she's not accustomed to train travel, I s

in the voice of a violin-soft, deep, deliciously resonant. In his mind flashed a picture for which he was a long time accounting-last winter's ballet of the New York Hippodrome. Afterward, he found the key to that train of thought. It, had been a ballet of

swaying as I came down the aisle, and I caught her.

and we shall need no assistance." Now his charity patient had recovered voice; she was moaning and whimpering. The girl,

t is nothing serious and have the porter stand by-please." That last word of politeness came out on an afterthought-he had been addressing her in the capacity of a trained nurse. He recognized t

assengers that it was nothing. He escaped to the dining car, to find that the delay had favored him. Her honey-colored back hair gleamed from one of the narrow tables to left of the aisle. The unconsidered man opposite he

the patient is doing nicely; doct

le and answered conventi

e looked slowly up as he settled himself, and he could feel the heat of a blush on his temples. He perceived-and for a moment it did not reassure him-that she on her part neither blushed nor bristled. Her skin kept its transparent whiteness, and her eyes looked into his with intent gravit

s advice, I should say that you had been a nurse-you seem to

hinking all the time how you lean on a doctor. I should ne

ut on at Albany by one set of grandchildren and she's to be taken off at Boston by another set. And she's old and her heart's a l

oken as they were, threw

name, I think-mine

e drew o

Philippine Army of Occupation," he supplemented, "

were in the Orient, I used to hear of them ever so dim

Orient-do you know the C

only

n nor Western, Yankee nor Southern-nor yet quite British. It was rather cosmopolitan-he had dimly placed her as a Californienne. Perhaps this fragment explained it. She must be a daughter of the English official c

after the Philippi

ure; "it was invented by the original Yankee philosopher, a person named Socrates. I like it after everyth

which goes with youth, plus the romantic adventure-"I like it n

clusion in the most reckless fashion. And why should he care so much

anted-your reference to India I

birds. I was hardly out of New York in my life until five years ago, when my aunt took me

lf. Once-and he remembered it with blushes afterward-he went so far as to say, "I didn't really need to be a doctor, any more than I needed to go to the Philippines-the family income takes care of

iresides and the high moments of anecdotal exchange, about the charge at Caloocon. She drank down these tales of hike and jungle and firing-line like a seminary girl listening to her first grownup caller. For his part, youth and the need of male youth to spread its bright feathers before the female of its species, drove him on to more tales. He contrived his luncheon so that they finished and paid simultaneously-and in the middle of his stor

ant to lose sight either of a skyscraper or of apple trees for years and

from her. It was low and deep and bubbling,

ere confessing that we w

ered. "I've been afraid, though, that this desire to

for a moment her fearless glan

y, I'd put it at twenty-eight. And that, according to Peter Ibbertson, is quite the nicest age." Her face, with

middle age is near-to dread it-especially when I half sus

ose instincts when confidence lies close to the lips. But she did not give it. Instead,

ce. His first impression grew-that she "did" something. She had mentioned "Peter Ibbertson." He spoke, then, of books. She had read much, especially fiction; but she treated books as one who does not write. He talked art. Though she spoke with originality and understanding in response to his second-hand studio c

put him on the scent again. He had thought suddenly of his patient in the c

th such a distinct flair for the game must have had longings

a,'" she answered, "and

e high death rate in hos

ing else. I had to." Her sapphirine eyes searched the Berkshire hills again, "

y Center." Dr. Blake came to the sudden realization t

off here!" s

" He almost l

a coin

o porters. This being the high-tide time of the summer migration, and Berkeley Center being the popular resort

max of a

month at the Hill Sanatorium," he said. "The assistant physician

s a little place and more the house of fr

ted with a

friends. He saw her mount an old-fashioned carry-all, saw her turn to wave a farewell. The carry-all disappeared. He started toward the H