The Red Lady
RED-GOLD HAIR     

 I WENT to bed early that night, and, partially undressing myself, I put on a wrapper and sat on my bed reading till Mary should come to tell me that Robbie had fallen asleep, and that it was time for our night-watch to begin. I had not spoken to Mary again on the subject, for soon after my investigations in the kitchen, Mrs. Brane had asked me to help her in her work of going over the old, long-closed drawers and wardrobes in the north wing, and I had had a very busy and tiring afternoon. It was a relief, however, to find that Sara dropped her labors when I appeared. Mrs. Brane looked almost as relieved as I felt.     

I

       “That is the most indefatigable worker I ever met, Miss Gale,” she said in her listless, nervous way; “she's been glued to my side ever since we began this interminable piece of work.”      

       “I wish you'd give it up, dear Mrs. Brane,” I said, “and let the indefatigable Sara tire out her own energy. I'm sure that you have none to spare, and this going over of old letters, and papers, and books and clothes is very tiring and depressing work for you.”      

       She gave a tormented sigh. “Oh, isn't it? It's aging me.” She stood before a great, old highboy, its drawers pulled out, and she looked so tiny and helpless, as small almost as Robbie. All the rest of the furniture was as massive as the highboy, the four-poster and the marble-topped bureau, and the tall mirror with its tarnished frame. I liked the mirror, and rather admired its reflection of myself.     

       Mrs. Brane looked wistfully about the room, and her eyes, like mine, stopped at the mirror. “How young you look beside me,” she said, “and so bright, with that wonderful hair! I wish you'd let me know you better, dear; I am really very fond of you, you know, and you must have something of a history with your beauty and your 'grand air,' and that halo of tragedy Mr. Dabney talks about.” She smiled teasingly, but I was too sad to smile back.     

       “My history is not romantic,” I said bitterly; “it is dull and sordid. You are very good to me, dear Mrs. Brane.” I was close to tears. “I wish I could do more for you.”      

       “More! Why, child, if it wasn't for you, I'd run away from 'The Pines' and never come back. No inducement, no 
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