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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Madam!" said Doctor Gainsworth. He had been Mrs. Bogardus's family physician for many years. "My husband," she repeated. The doctor appeared to accept the statement. As the three approached the bed Mrs. Bogardus leaned heavily upon her son. Paul released his arm and placed it firmly around her. He felt her shudder. "Mother," he said to her with an indescribable accent that tore her heart.
But when Mary died, within six months, folks repeated what she had been saying about her 'warning. The 'death watch' she called it. We can't all of us control our feelings about such things, and she was a lonely widow woman." "Well, do you believe that ticking is going on up there now?" asked Mrs. Bogardus. Cerissa looked uneasy. "Is the door locked?" "I re'ly couldn't say," she confessed.
"It will be unawares, my dear, very much unawares, when I shelter any angels of that sort." "Oh, you wouldn't turn him out, such weather as this?" "The house is not mine, in the first place," Mrs. Bogardus explained as to a child. "I can't entertain tramps or even angels on my son's premises, when he's away." "Oh, he! He would build the fires himself, and make up their beds," laughed Miss Sallie.
"Well, about this 'warning'?" Mrs. Bogardus interrupted. "Yes! It was three years ago in May, and I remember it was some such a day as this showery and broken overhead, and Mary disappointed me; but she came about noon, and said she'd put in half a day anyhow. She got her pail and house-cloths; but she wasn't gone not half an hour when down she come white as a sheet, and her mouth as dry as chalk.
She boomed it in her occasional letters, which were full of scarce concealed bravado as graceful as snapping her fingers in her mother's face. Mrs. Bogardus leased her house in town, and retired before the ghosts, but not escaping them; Stone Ridge must be put in order for its new master and mistress, and Stone Ridge had its own ghosts.
It was faced with one on top in Paul's handwriting. "All but one," she added, and proceeded to open her own much fatter one in the same hand. She stood reading it in the hall. Mrs. Bogardus presently followed and remained beside her. "Could I speak to your father a moment?" she asked. "Certainly, I will call him," said Moya. "Wait: I hear him now."
Bogardus grasped Cerissa by the shoulders and held her firmly in front of a narrow loophole that pierced the partition close beside the door. Light from the room within showed plainly; but it gave an unpleasantly human expression to the entrance, like a furtive eye on the watch. "He would always be there," Cerissa whispered. "Who?" "Your father.
Something of Cerissa's injured importance survived the transmission of the message, causing Mrs. Bogardus to smile to herself as she rose. Cerissa was waiting in the dining-room. She kept her seat as Mrs. Bogardus entered. Her eyes did not rise higher than the lady's dress, which she examined with a fierce intentness of comparison while she opened her errand.
They asked his mother if she had heard of the effects of altitude upon highly sensitive organizations. They recounted some instances I will mention them later. One of the boys is a lawyer, isn't he? They are a pair of ingenious youths. Bogardus, they claim, avoided them almost from the time they entered the woods, almost lived with the packer, behaved like a crank about the shooting.
Bogardus turned and clasped Christine's arm above the elbow; through the thin sleeve she could feel its cool roundness. It was a soft, small, unmuscular arm, that had never borne its own burdens, to say nothing of a share in the burdens of others. "Get your jacket," said the mother. "There is a chill in the air." "There is no chill in me," laughed Christine. "You know, mamsie, you aren't a girl.
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