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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Great Heaven! It is a ghost!" he yelled at the top of his voice; "the ghost of Faynie!" The sound of that hoarse, piercing, awful cry echoed and re-echoed to every portion of the house, and in less time than it takes to relate it, the servants in a body, headed by Mrs. Fairfax and Claire, were rushing toward the library, from whence the sound proceeded.
"It is needless to recall to you the fact that our wedded life has been a failure. You have made my life miserable ay, and that of my sweet, motherless, tender little Faynie, until, in sheer desperation, she has fled from her home on the night I write this, and my grief is more poignant than I can well endure.
With all possible haste Claire summoned the housekeeper and gave Faynie into her charge. It was more than disappointing to her to have Faynie lapse into unconsciousness just as she had reached the most interesting part of her story and was about to tell her how very romantically handsome Lester had proposed. It had been just like a page from a French novel.
And when he found his voice he cried out: "The girl tells the truth! She is mine, and as her husband I am lord and master of this house, and of her." As he uttered the words he strode toward Faynie with a diabolical chuckle, and seized her slender wrists in his grasp. "Unhand me!" shrieked Faynie, struggling frantically in his grasp, almost fainting with terror.
"It means," spoke Faynie, after a full moment's pause, "that the hour has come in which I must confess to all gathered here the pitiful story I have to tell, and which will explain what has long been an unsolved mystery to you where, how and with whom I spent the time from the hour in which I left this roof until I returned to it. "You say that this is the man who is your daughter's lover, Mrs.
Faynie stood motionless, scarcely three feet behind him, watching him intently, with horror-stricken eyes and glued tongue. She saw him take a roll of bills, and after carefully counting them, transfer them to his pocket. Heirlooms, too, in the way of a costly diamond stud, sleeve links, and massive watch and chain, which had been her father's, went the same way.
"My my love for you prompted it, Faynie," he exclaimed, in a maudlin voice. He knew he had the name wrong, but could not think what it was to save his life. "Come, now, let's kiss and make up, and love each other in the same old way, as the song goes."
Once the door suddenly opened and Halloran thrust in his head, exclaiming: "Let me give you a piece of news to dream over, my dear fellow: Your Cousin, Kendale, is with the beauteous Faynie just now, probably holding her in his arms, kissing the lovely rosebud mouth. 'Pon my honor. I envy the lucky dog; don't you?"
This he did, believing himself unseen, but Faynie Fairfax had beheld the tall, well-known form afar down the road, and she was not displeased at the prospect of having a delightful little chat with the handsome young cashier.
"He is handsome, and that generally goes with great conceit, Faynie always said." "I hope we shall be friends, Miss Fairfax," he said, extending his hand and bowing low over the little brown one that lay for an instant in his palm. "There is a great mistake evident at the outset," said the girl, looking up into his face.
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