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
"He need never know that I have been the victim of such a mistake," said
I. "My feet leave no trail, and as I use no perfumes he will never
suspect that I have enjoyed a glimpse of these old-fashioned walls and
ancient cabinets."
"The slats of the blinds are a little open," she remarked, her eyes
searching my face for some sign that I am sure she did not find there.
"Were they so when you came in?"
"I hardly think so; it was very dark. Shall I put them as I found them?"
"No. He will not notice." And she hurried me out, still eying me
breathlessly as if she half distrusted my composure.
"Come, Amelia," I now whispered in self-admonition, "the time for
exertion has come. Show this young woman, who is not much behind you in
self-control, some of the lighter phases of your character. Charm her,
Amelia, charm her, or you may live to rue this invasion into family
secrets more than you may like to acknowledge at the present moment."
A task of some difficulty, but I rejoice in difficult tasks, and before
another half-hour had passed, I had the satisfaction of seeing Miss
Knollys entirely restored to that state of placid melancholy which was
the natural expression of her calm but unhappy nature.
We visited the Shell Cabinet, the Blue Parlor, and another room, the
peculiarities of which I have forgotten. Frightened by the result of
leaving me to my own devices, she did not quit me for an instant, and
when, my curiosity quite satisfied, I hinted that a short nap in my own
room would rest me for the evening, she proceeded with me to the door of
my apartment.
"The locksmith whom I saw this morning has not kept his word," I
remarked as she was turning away.
"None of the tradesmen here do that," was her cold answer. "I have given
up expecting having any attention paid to my wants."
"Humph," thought I. "Another pleasant admission. Amelia Butterworth,
this has not been a cheerful day."
XVIII
THE SECOND NIGHT
I cannot say that I looked forward to the night with any very cheerful
anticipations. The locksmith having failed to keep his appointment, I
was likely to have no more protection against intrusion than I had had
the night before, and while I cannot say that I especially feared any
unwelcome entrance into my apartment, I should have gone to my rest with
a greater sense of satisfaction if a key had been in the lock and that
key had been turned by my own hand on my own side of the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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