The House of Mystery

The House of Mystery

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The House of Mystery, by William
Henry Irwin This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost
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Title: The House of Mystery An Episode in the Career of Rosalie Le
Grange, Clairvoyant An Episode in the Career of Rosalie Le Grange,
Clairvoyant
Author: William Henry Irwin
Release Date: June 22, 2004 [EBook #12678]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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HOUSE OF MYSTERY ***

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[Illustration: ROSALIE LE GRANGE]
THE HOUSE OF MYSTERY

AN EPISODE IN THE CAREER OF ROSALIE LE GRANGE,
CLAIRVOYANT
By WILL IRWIN
Illustrated by Frederick C. Yohn

1910

CONTENTS
I. The Unknown Girl
II. Mr. Norcross Wastes Time
III. The Light
IV. His First Call
V. The Light Wavers
VI. Enter Rosalie Le Grange
VII. Rosalie's First Report
VIII. The Fish Nibbles
XI. Rosalie's Second Report
X. The Streams Converge
XI. Through the Wall-Paper
XII. Annette Lies
XIII. Annette Tells the Truth

XIV. Mainly from the Papers

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Rosalie le Grange
Annette
"It wasn't the money; it was the game--"
He had taken an impression of mental power as startling as a sudden
blow in the face
"Then it's as good as done"
Norcross's breath came a little faster
"I was looking straight down on the back parlors"
"Stay where you are," he commanded

THE HOUSE OF MYSTERY

I
THE UNKNOWN GIRL
In a Boston and Albany parlor-car, east bound through the Berkshires,
sat a young man respectfully, but intently studying a young woman.
Now and then, from the newspapers heaped in mannish confusion
about his chair, he selected another sheet. Always, he took advantage of
this opportunity to face the chair across the aisle and to sweep a glance
over a piquant little profile, intent on a sober-looking book. Again, he
would gaze out of the window; and he gazed oftenest when a freight
train hid the beauties of outside nature. The dun sides of freight cars

make out of a window a passable mirror. Twice, in those dim and
confused glimpses, he caught just a flicker of her eye across her book,
as though, she, on her part, were studying him.
It was her back hair which had first entangled Dr. Blake's thoughts; it
was the graceful nape of her neck which had served to hold them fast.
When the hair and the neck below dawned on him, he identified her as
that blonde girl whom he had noted at the train gate, waving farewell to
some receding friend--and noted with approval. As a traveler on many
seas and much land, he knew the lonely longing to address the woman
in the next seat. He knew also, as all seasoned travelers in America
know, that such desire is sometimes gratified, and without any
surrender of decency, in the frank and easy West--but never east of
Chicago. This girl, however, exercised somehow, a special pull upon
his attention and his imagination. And he found himself playing a game
by which he had mitigated many a journey of old. He divided his
personality into two parts--man and physician--and tried, by each
separate power, to find as much as he could from surface indications
about this travel-mate of his.
Mr. Walter Huntington Blake perceived, besides the hair like dripping
honey, deep blue eyes--the blue not of a turquoise but of a
sapphire--and an oval face a little too narrow in the jaw, so that the chin
pointed a delicate Gothic arch. He noted a good forehead, which
inclined him to the belief that she "did" something--some subtle
addition which he could not formulate confirmed that observation. He
saw that her hands were long and tipped with nails no larger than a
grain of maize, that when they rested for a moment on her face, in the
shifting attitudes of her reading, they fell as gently as flower-stalks
swaying together in a breeze. He saw that her shoulders had a slight
slope, which combined with hands and eyes to express a being all
feminine--the kind made for a lodestone to a man who has known the
hard spots of the world, like Mr. Walter Huntington Blake.
"A pippin!" pronounced Mr. Blake, the man.
Dr. Blake, the physician, on the other hand, caught a certain languor in
her movements, a physical tenuity which, in a patient, he would have

considered diagnostic. So transparent was her skin that when her profile
dipped forward across a bar of sunshine the light shone through