“And,” sobbed the broken-hearted widow, looking down with streaming eyes at the lonely grave, “we loved her just as dearly as if she had been our own flesh and blood, and if my poor John knew what she has come to now, I don’t believe he could rest in his grave.” “It was very noble in you both to care for her as you did,” said Floyd Landon; and a minute later he asked, thoughtfully: “In case of her being proved dead, who will inherit Suicide Place?” “I don’t know, sir--there are no relatives alive that I’m aware of. It seemed like Floy was the last of her line.” “And you do not believe that she has followed the example of her race and cut herself off from life?” Mrs. Banks shuddered. “Oh, no, sir, I can not believe that she would do that. She always laughed at the notion, and never showed any superstition but once.” His persuasive gaze coaxed her to proceed with her confidences. “It was the night before she went away to be a salesgirl in the great city,” continued Mrs. Banks. “We sat up late talking, and sweet little Floy said, humbly: “‘There’s one thing I must confess to you, auntie: I’ve often disobeyed your orders and gone into Suicide Place alone. Will you forgive me now?’ “‘Oh my dear, how could you venture near that terrible place?’ I cried, in alarm. Then, seeing the paleness of her sweet face, I added: ‘I forgive you, dear; but you must never venture near that place again.’ “‘No, I _never_ shall!’ cried Floy, with the greatest energy. Clasping her pretty little hands together, she went on, tremblingly: ‘I went there once too often, auntie, dear, and I found out the--the--I found out that the old place is haunted, as people say, and I think I understand the malign influence there that drives people to madness and suicide.’ “I begged her to tell me all, but she refused, growing pale, and trembling like a leaf in a storm, as she added: “‘I must not tell any one. It is an accursed knowledge, and brings doom on those who learn it--a terrible doom! Oh, I used to laugh at the croakers, but now I know they were right. I have seen the horror that haunts the place. I know the secret hidden in those old stone walls. But it shall not destroy me, auntie, dear, for I will shun it like the plague. Never will I cross that fatal threshold again; and if I am ever rich enough, I shall have the house torn down stone by stone, and let in the light of day on the earth it covers, so that there shall be no more curse upon it!’” “And she would tell you no more, madame?” “Not one word more; and the next day she went away from me, my pretty darling, to be lost in the mysteries of that wicked New York!” sobbed the poor woman. “Do you really believe that Suicide Place is haunted, Madame?” “Oh, yes, sir, certainly. Every one says so; and lights have been seen in the windows many a dark night, though the place hasn’t had a tenant these nine years and more. ’Tis said that evil spirits haunt the place and drive the tenants to madness or suicide.”