Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia ButterworthGreen, Anna Katharine
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Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (State) -- Fiction
"A courageous thing to do, ma'am, and one that may do the road some
good. If you can spend a month with the Knollys girls and come out of
their house at the end as hale and hearty as you entered it, it will be
the best proof possible that there is less to be feared there than some
people think. I shall be glad if you can do it, ma'am, for I like the
girls and would be glad to have the reputation of the place restored."
"Pshaw!" was my final comment. "The credulity of the town has had as
much to do with its loss as they themselves. That educated people such
as I see here should believe in ghosts!"
I say final, for at this moment the good lady, springing up, put an end
to our conversation. She had just seen a buggy pass the window.
"It's Mr. Trohm," she exclaimed. "Ma'am, if you wish to return home
before Mr. Simsbury comes back you may be able to do so with this
gentleman. He's a most obliging man, and lives less than a quarter of a
mile from the Misses Knollys."
I did not say I had already met the gentleman. Why, I do not know. I
only drew myself up and waited with some small inner perturbation for
the result of the inquiry I saw she had gone to make.
XIV
I FORGET MY AGE, OR, RATHER, REMEMBER IT
Mr. Trohm did not disappoint my expectations. In another moment I
perceived him standing in the open doorway with the most genial smile on
his lips.
"Miss Butterworth," said he, "I feel too honored. If you will deign to
accept a seat in my buggy, I shall only be too happy to drive you home."
I have always liked the manners of country gentlemen. There is just a
touch of formality in their bearing which has been quite eliminated from
that of their city brothers. I therefore became gracious at once and
accepted the seat he offered me without any hesitation.
The heads that showed themselves at the neighboring windows warned us to
hasten on our route. Mr. Trohm, with a snap of his whip, touched up his
horse, and we rode in dignified calm away from the hotel steps into the
wide village street known as the main road. The fact that Mr. Gryce had
told me that this was the one man I could trust, joined to my own
excellent knowledge of human nature and the persons in whom explicit
confidence can be put, made the moment one of great satisfaction to me.
I was about to make my appearance at the Knollys mansion two hours
before I was expected, and thus outwit Lucetta by means of the one man
whose assistance I could conscientiously accept.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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