uld not give her, and in an evil hour she imitated the name
of a rich man here and took the check thus signed to New York. The fraud
was not detected, and she received the money, but ultimately the rich
man whose money she had spent, discovered the use she had made of his
name, and, if she had not escaped, would have had her arrested. But she
left the country, and the only revenge he took, was to swear that if she
ever set foot again in X., he would call the police down upon her. Yes,
if she were dying, and they had to drag her from the brink of the grave.
And he would have done it; and knowing this, we have lived under the
shadow of this fear for eleven years. My father died under it, and my
mother--ah, she spent all the remaining years of her life under foreign
skies, but when she felt the hand of death upon her, her affection for
her own flesh and blood triumphed over her discretion, and she came,
secretly, I own, but still with that horror menacing her, to these
doors, and begging our forgiveness, lay down under the roof where we
were born, and died with the halo of our love about her."

"Ah," said I, thinking of all that had happened since I had come into
this house and finding nothing but confirmation of what she was saying,
"I begin to understand."

But Lucetta shook her head.

"No," said she, "you cannot understand yet. We who had worn mourning for
her because my father wished to make this very return impossible, knew
nothing of what was in store for us till a letter came saying she would
be at the C. station on the very night we received it. To acknowledge
our deception, to seek and bring her home openly to this house, could
not be thought of for a moment. How, then, could we satisfy her dying
wishes without compromising her memory and ourselves? Perhaps you have
guessed, Miss Butterworth. You have had time since we revealed the
unhappy secret of this household."

"Yes," said I. "I have guessed."

Lucetta, with her hand laid on mine, looked wistfully into my face.

"Don't blame us!" she cried. "Our mother's good name is everything to
us, and we knew no other way to preserve it than by making use of the
one superstition of this place. Alas! our efforts were in vain. The
phantom coach brought our mother safely to us, but the circumstances
which led to our doors being opened to outsiders, rendered it impossible
for us to carry out our plans unsuspected. Her grave has been discovered
and desecrated, and we---