isa-normaladvance-1903-00134

Description: 134THE NORMAL ADVANCE.kerchief from its eyes as they entered and approached the cot.We came to see if you were lonesome, explained the older of the two. My name is BelleDarraugh and this is my sister, Helen.A pathetic smile passed over the lips of the figure as she extended her hand to Helen and murmured, You have the same name as I have, and,in a softer tone, my mothers name was Helen,too.A gentle tap on the door prevented further conversation. In response to Helens Come in,Miss McKenzie opened the door and stepped intothe room. She looked from the sisters to the girlon the cot with a surprised, inquiring glance. Ifeared you might be lonesome, she said hesitatingly, and I wanted to be the first one to tellyou the strange story concerning this tower. Thesisters rose abruptly at this remark and moved toward the door, but she restrained them, saying,Stay, young ladies, you too, shall hear it and maycompare it with the many wild tales that probablyhave been told to you.She seated herself on the cot beside Helen,and began her story.Many years ago, perhaps forty or more, awealthy old genteman built this house and broughthis little daughter here to live. Here, too, hadcome his son, Harold, a manly lad with a dignifiedcarriage and confident tread that marked him asa cadet returned from military school. His appearance and manners had greatly changed sincehe had left home, but his affection for the little sister had only been strengthened by his absence.This tower had a special fascination for him.and here he made a beautiful playhouse for thechild. To this retreat he came often during thelong, bright days of summer to read or rest in thefresh breeze that was always blowing there, whilehis little sister played with her dolls or listened tothe stories he told.One day he came into the midst of her play,caught her in his arms and kissed her repeatedlyas he told her he must go away for a long timeand with tears in his eyes begged that whatevermight come she would always love and trust herbig brother. To the child it seemed a strange request, but she gave the promise and would havefollowed him down stairs had he not insisted uponher staying here. A few minutes later she heardhis step upon the walk below and ran to the window, calling affectionate good-byes and kissing herhand in answer to the repeated waving of his ownuntil he passed from view beyond the gate. Thenher mind was busy with wondering where and forwhat he was leaving so hastily and why he had nottold her father good-bye. She rushed down towhere her father sat, but all her questions broughtonly angry threats from the father whom she hadknown as always kind. For days the child stroveto solve the mystery and at last her only comfortwas her daily visit to the tower where, amid herplaythings, she would wonder where her brotherwas and when he would return.Months and years passed away and carried herinto womanhood. The visits to the tower did notcease, but became the happiest time of each day, fora barrier of silence rose between herself and herfather regarding the absent brother and only inthese daily visits to her childhood retreat did shefind comfort in thoughts of the past. Each timebefore going again to mingle in the household circle she knelt for a moment to offer a prayer for thewanderer.Adversity came upon the father, his businessfailed and with it his health. One evening shewas summoned hastily to his bedside to hear a lastconfession and to have the mystery explained. Herfather had disinherited his son because he daredto assert his intention of marrying a girl whoearned her daily bread by teaching the villageschool. It was the same old story of a fathersmistaken ideas of rank and wealth Unrelentinglyset against a sons true love. Gladly would thefather have welcomed the son home again now,but it was too late.Miss McKenzie paused here to brush away atear. When she resumed her voice was strainedand the lids almost closed over her eyes.My story is almost finished. Years rolled on
this house became a boarding school with whatpeope said was a haunted tower where every night
Source: http://indstate.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/isuarchive/id/33907
Collection: Indiana State University Archives

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