The St. Louis Republic. [volume], July 30, 1905, SUNDAY MAGAZINE, Page 11, Image 55

About The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919

Image provided by: State Historical Society of Missouri; Columbia, MO

                
11
LADY OF THE TWILIGHT
SUNDAY MA6AZINE fr JULY 39, lftS
AND do you know, Maurice, we
have a family ghost. Isn't
it delightful? But it doesn't
haunt the old hall in Herefordshire
where a ghost properly belongs, but
is seen only here in our London
house."
The speaker was Lady Woodvale, a
pretty American Woman who had married
for love an Englishman who was so for
tunate as to fall heir to a title and estate the'
year following their wedding. To-night
she was giving a dinner in honor of her
brother, a lieutenant in the United States
navy, and the two were in the musk-room
chatting away the hour before the arrival
of guests.
"What does the ghost call himself, and
why does he not allow himself to be seen
where be properly belongs?" inquired the
young man.
"It is not a 'he,' Maurice: it is a lovely
lady, the wife of one Sir Edgar Woodvale.
She worshiped her husband, and in return
for her devotion he broke her heart. She
came to this house a bride, and that is
nhy her restless spirit is supposed to linger
here. She is called "The Lady of the
Twilight' because she never is seen at
night, but only between daylight and dark
nos. Bowles says she once appeared to
him at twilight on the stairs, and as she
passed her gown touched and seemed to
cling to him. He says it was of a grayish
or bluish color and was misty like a fog."
. "I am afraid Bowles had been sampling
J some of his master's wine."
"Possibly; if so it gave him a pleasant
1 vfckm. for he says the ghost woman was
the loveliest being he ever beheld, with
golden hair arranged as he expressed it 'ally
pompydore.'"
At this point Lady Woodvale was sum
moned from the room. Turning at the
door, she said: "By the way. Maurice. I
expect Miss Von Wunderswerth in a few
minutes. She said it would be more con
venient for her to come directly here from
some entertainment. I probably shall be
detained for a little while, and shall tell
James to show her in here when she comesi
and you must do the agreeable. She will
not charm you by her brilliancy, but she
is a dear good soul, and I am verv fond
of her."
Left alone in the dreamy twilight. Lieu
tenant Cuthbert took up a guitar and sang
a verse of a Spanish serenade that had
1een taught him by a dark-eyed Cuban
woman. At the conclusion of the last
line the consciousness of another presence
in the room caused him to turn his head,
and instantly the instrument was put aside,
while the singer rose to his feet. Standing
in the light that came from the window was
a vision of beauty, a tall slender girl whose
gown, purple in color and gauze-like in
texture, blended with the soft tones of
the surrounding shadows and seemed to
make of her a spirit of the twilight. He
smiled as he remembered his sister's ghost story.
"I am afraid that I interrupted you," she said,
smiling.
"Not at all. Miss " he could not remember the
long German name and hastened to add: "My
sister legs that you will excuse her for a little
while, and she commits you to my tender mercies."
"Yes? Then you must be very kind to me.
for I have experienced a chapter of accidents, and
will tell why I am here alone when my hostess
makes her appearance."
"Shall I turn on the light, or do vou prefer the
twilight?"
"The latter by all means. I love it." and she
sank into a low chair by the window, her misty
draperies floating about her.
Afterward he could not remember what had
leen the subject of their conversation during these
first moments of acquaintance, for he was wonder
ing how his sister could have designated simply as a
"dear good soul" this girl whose grace and beauty
surpassed that of any woman he ever had seen.
Her face was like a delicately hued rose, her hair
was the color of red gold and was rolled high above
her brow in the prevailing fashion, and her eyes
which may have been dark blue in the full light
of day seemed to have caught under their thick
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. lashes the dusk of the evening and were softly
dark. A silver serpent with a large diamond
gleaming in its head was wound in several coils
alout her round white arm. and in her corsage
was arranged a large cluster of violets, their faint
sweet odor filling the room.
"What were you singing when I came in?" she
asked. "The air was not familiar to me."
"A little Spanish ballad of which the composer
is unknown to me."
"Won't you sing it again and translate it for
me?"
"With pleasure. The sentiment is something
like this: 'Thine eyes are as the gentle light of
the stars; thy soul is like the flitting butterfly;
thy lips are like violets which tremble beneath
my kisses and yield the subtle perfume of love.'"
She laughed softly. "It is odd to compare the
lips of a living woman to purple violets, isn't it?"
"The poet doubtless means that hers were the
sweetest of lips as violets are the sweetest of
flowers," he returned, gazing earnestly into her
eyes, adding "I never have wished for anything
as I long for one of those flowers. Will you not
give it to me?"
"I oh no!" she replied, rising suddenly. "I
wonder why the others do not come? I did
not think I should be so early."
James entered the room. "Her
ladyship would like to speak to you
for a moment, if you please. Lieu
tenant Cuthbert." be said.
"Her ladyship?" exclaimed the
fair visitor.
"My sister. Lady Woodvale. you know," and
with a murmured excuse he left the room.
There was a note which required an instant reply,
and when it was finished Lieutenant Cuthbert said
to Ins sister: "Tell me again the name of the
lady I have been entertaining according to your
directions."
"Miss Von Wunderswerth? I did not know that
she had arrived."
"She came more than a half-hour ago. Stella,
you must allow me to take her in to dinner. She
is as beautiful as a poet's dream."
His sister laughed. "You are alwavs joking,
Maurice."
"Joking? I never was more serious in my life.
Are you women totally blind to each other's
beauty?"
"Maurice. I think yon must be going mad. or
Puck has been squeezing the juke of love-in-idleness
on your eyelids. But you shall take her in to
dinner if you like. There are men who pay court
to her fortune, but I really believe that you are
the first to admire her face."
Lieutenant Cuthbert returned to the music-
It now was brilliantly lighted, but his late
companion was missing. Seat
ed at the piano and running
practised fingers lightly over
the keys was a stout middle-aged
woman in yellow
satin. He was startled: it
was like a transformation
scene in the pantomime after
the wicked fairy has waved
her wand. He silently with
drew to question James, and
encountered a housemaid.
"James just 'ad word that
'is old father is dying down
in Kent. sir. and 'e left the
"ouse not five minutes ago
without so much as 'by your
leave' to my lady," said the
maid.
"Who is the lady in the
music-room?" asked Cuth
bert. "That is Miss Fun Wunder
something, sir. I can't think
of 'er name, though she's
often been 'ere." "I mean the lady in yellow."
"Yes, sir, the large lady in yellow that's who
she is."
"But who was the other one who came earlier?"
" I didn't see any other one. sir."
The guests were now arriving, and in a short time
Cuthbert found himself going toward the dining
room in the company of the rotund and good
natured Miss Von Wunderswerth. Every chair
at the table was filled, but the woman of the violets
was not in one of them. His companion doubtless
received an unfavorable impression of the con
versational abilities of the officers of Uncle Sam's
navy, for the only subject that seemed to interest
Cuthbert was a young woman who, be declared,
had been in the music-room earlier in the evening,
but who Miss Von Wunderswerth said must have
departed before her own arrival.
"What became of the beautiful woman with
whom I was talking before dinner?" asked the
Lieutenant of his sister as soon as they had re
turned to the drawing-room. "She was not at
table. Where did she go?"
"There is no one absent whom I expected. I
do not know what you mean." was the reply. When
he had described the mysterious visitor, his sister
remarked: "I know no such person. Really.
Maurice. I think you must have slept and dreamed
of 'The Lady of the Twilight.' Come now. con
fess that you took a little nap after I left the room."
The youmj man insisted that be had not closed
his eyes, and his brother-in-law said: "It was
the result of the cobwebs left in your brain by
that beastly fever."
But an aunt of the host who overheard the con
versation said: "It was the Woodvale ghost. "The
Lady of the Twilight.' Her appearance always
precedes a misfortune in the family."
"Why should she appear to Maurice, who is not
a Woodvale?" asked her nephew, laughing. "It