The Ghost of Guir House - Page 12/80

The girl led the way to the fire, and, seating herself upon one of

the sofas described, invited Paul to the opposite place. His

bewilderment was intense, and with a lingering gaze at the oddities

surrounding him, he accepted the invitation. Not another soul had

been seen since he entered. Did the girl live alone? It seemed

incredible; and yet where were her people?

Dorothy pulled off her gloves and warmed her fingers before the

cheerful blaze, and then stood eying with evident satisfaction the

costly gems with which they were loaded. The light seemed to shine

directly through her delicate palms, and to fall upon her face and

hair and quaint old-fashioned costume with singular effect. There was

something so bizarre and yet so spirituelle in her appearance that

Henley could not help observing in what perfect harmony she seemed

with her environment. It was some minutes before either of them

spoke--Paul loth to express his surprise for fear of betraying a lack

of knowledge he might possibly be expected to possess, while Dorothy,

in an apparent fit of abstraction, had evidently forgotten her guest

and all else, save the cheerful fire before her. Presently she

withdrew her eyes from their fixed stare at the flames, and, looking

at Paul, said: "You must be hungry."

There was something so incongruous with his surroundings and recent

train of thought in the girl's sudden remark that Henley could not

help laughing.

"One would scarcely expect to eat in such a remarkable home as yours,

Miss Guir," he replied, looking into her earnest eyes, and wondering

if she ordinarily dined alone.

"Nevertheless, we will in an hour," she answered, "and I shall expect

you to have an excellent appetite after our long drive."

Paul wanted to ask about the members of her family, but thought it

wisest to say nothing for the present. Surely they would appear in

due season, for it was impossible the girl could live alone in so

large a house, and without natural protection; and so he simply made

a further allusion to the apparent age and great picturesqueness of

the building.

"Yes," said Dorothy, again gazing into the fire, "it is old--considerably

more than a hundred years. It was built in the Colonial days, when things

were rougher and good work more difficult to obtain."

"But surely these portraits and historical scenes were the work of an

artist," Henley ventured to observe, looking at a strange head of

Medusa.

"Yes," she answered, "the one you are looking at was done by Ah Ben."