She was duly impressed and easily persuaded to second all my operations as far
as her poor wits would allow, giving me free range of her upper story, and above
all, promising that secrecy without which all my finely laid plans for capturing the
rogues without raising a scandal, would fall headlong to the ground.
Behold me, then, by noon of that same day domiciled in an apartment next to the
one whose door bore that scarlet sign which had aroused within me such
feverish hopes the night before. Clad in the seedy garments of a broken down
French artist whose acquaintance I had once made, with something of his air and
general appearance and with a few of his wretched daubs hung about on the
whitewashed wall, I commenced with every prospect of success as I thought, that
quiet espionage of the hall and its inhabitants which I considered necessary to a
proper attainment of the end I had in view.
A racking cough was one of the peculiarities of my friend, and determined to
assume the character in toto, I allowed myself to startle the silence now and then
with a series of gasps and chokings that whether agreeable or not, certainly were
of a character to show that I had no desire to conceal my presence from those I
had come among. Indeed it was my desire to acquaint them as fully and as soon
as possible with the fact of their having a neighbor: a weak-eyed half-alive
innocent to be sure, but yet a neighbor who would keep his door open night and
day--for the warmth of the hall of course--and who with the fretful habit of an old
man who had once been a gentleman and a beau, went rambling about through
the hall speaking to those he met and expecting a civil word in return. When he
was not rambling or coughing he made architectural monsters out of cardboard,
wherewith to tempt the pennies out of the pockets of unwary children, an
employment that kept him chained to a small table in the centre of his room
directly opposite the open door.
As I expected I had scarcely given way to three separate fits of coughing, when
the door next me opened with a jerk and a rough voice called out,
"Who's that making all that to do about here? If you don't stop that infernal noise
in a hurry--"
A soft voice interrupted him and he drew back. "I will go see," said those gentle
tones, and Luttra Blake, for I knew it was she before the skirt of her robe had
advanced beyond the door, stepped out into the hall.
I was yet bent over my work when she paused before me. The fact is I did not
dare look up, the moment was one of such importance to me.
"You have a dreadful cough," said she with that low ring of sympathy in her voice
that goes unconsciously to the heart. "Is there no help for it?"
I pushed back my work, drew my hand over my eyes, (I did not need to make it
tremble) and glanced up. "No," said I with a shake of my head, "but it is not
always so bad. I beg your pardon, miss, if it disturbs you."
She threw back the shawl which she had held drawn tightly over her head, and
advanced with an easy gliding step close to my side. "You do not disturb me, but
my father is--is, well a trifle cross sometimes, and if he should speak up a little
harsh now and then, you must not mind. I am sorry you are so ill."
What is there in some women's look, some women's touch that more than all
beauty goes to the heart and subdues it. As she stood there before me in her
