At the Sign of the Jack O'Lantern. Reed Myrtle

At the Sign of the Jack O'Lantern - Reed Myrtle


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       Myrtle Reed

      At the Sign of the Jack O'Lantern

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664566638

       I

       The End of the Honeymoon

       II

       The Day Afterward

       III

       The First Caller

       IV

       Finances

       V

       Mrs. Smithers

       VI

       The Coming of Elaine

       VII

       An Uninvited Guest

       VIII

       More

       IX

       Another

       X

       Still More

       XI

       Mrs. Dodd’s Third Husband

       XII

       Her Gift to the World

       XIII

       A Sensitive Soul

       XIV

       Mrs. Dodd’s Fifth Fate

       XV

       Treasure-Trove

       XVI

       Good Fortune

       XVII

       The Lady Elaine knows her Heart

       XVIII

       Uncle Ebeneezer’s Diary

       XIX

       Various Departures

       XX

       The Love of Another Elaine

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      It was certainly a queer house. Even through the blinding storm they could distinguish its eccentric outlines as they alighted from the stage. Dorothy laughed happily, heedless of the fact that her husband’s umbrella was dripping down her neck. “It’s a dear old place,” she cried; “I love it already!”

      For an instant a flash of lightning turned the peculiar windows into sheets of flame, then all was dark again. Harlan’s answer was drowned by a crash of thunder and the turning of the heavy wheels on the gravelled road.

      “Don’t stop,” shouted the driver; “I’ll come up to-morrer for the money. Good luck to you—an’ the Jack-o’-Lantern!”

      “What did he mean?” asked Dorothy, shaking out her wet skirts, when they were safely inside the door. “Who’s got a Jack-o’-Lantern?”

      “You can search me,” answered Harlan, concisely, fumbling for a match. “I suppose we’ve got it. Anyhow, we’ll have a look at this sepulchral mansion presently.”

      His deep voice echoed and re-echoed through the empty rooms, and Dorothy laughed; a little hysterically this time. Match after match sputtered and failed. “Couldn’t have got much wetter if I’d been in swimming,” he grumbled. “Here goes the last one.”

      By the uncertain light they found a candle and Harlan drew a long breath of relief. “It would have been pleasant, wouldn’t it?” he went on. “We could have sat on the stairs until morning, or broken our admirable necks in falling over strange furniture. The next thing is a fire. Wonder where my distinguished relative kept his wood?”

      Lighting another candle, he went off on a tour of investigation, leaving Dorothy alone.

      She could not repress a shiver as she glanced around the gloomy room.


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