Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/385

Rh sounds made her believe she was forgotten by those she loved. She rose and noisily shut the door, which she had only half-closed, and walked up and down the room in despair.

She was still dressed and awake hours afterwards, when the house was wrapped in sleep. Unable to rest, she looked from the open window into the night. As she did so, a dark form sprang upon the sill where she leaned. It was a huge black cat. "Tom," she said, "you frightened me; I thought you were a ghost." She started at her own suggestion, and an idea came to her. She tightened her hold on the cat, and with it in her arms stole out of her room along the passage. At the door of the haunted chamber she paused and listened. With one hand she softly turned the handle, and again paused, but there was no sound. In a moment she slipped the black cat inside the room, and, closing the door softly, hurried back to her own apartment, her heart beating wildly. "She will think Tom is a ghost," she said, laughing. Then she was disgusted with herself. "How horrid I am!" she said, and threw herself on the bed, sobbing bitterly. After a short time she fell into a troubled slumber. She awoke with