The Strange Experiences of Tina Malone. Ethel C. M. Paige

cousin yet?"

      "No, not now that you are coming," I said.

      We busied getting the flat ready. The people were to come on Saturday evening and on Friday night Naomi suddenly discovered that she had no gas-mantles.

      "Oh, good gracious! What shall we do? I'll run up and see if the shops are still open. I want to get the paper too."

      "Get me a copy too, dear," said Naomi, "I shall want some for my shelves."

      I hurried back and after we had arranged the mantles on the gas jets Naomi opened her paper to see how many lodgers she might have taken and couldn't.

      I was looking over her shoulder and catching sight of the concert programme with "Peer Gynt" in the list, began to talk of Ibsen.

      "You remind me of Hedda, Naomi."

      "Haven't read it," she said.

      "Very well, you shall," I said. "I don't know why I think it because you're not a bit like her really, I suppose. I think it must be the way you wear your hair. I'll bring the book down this afternoon," I said.

      I thought of it afterwards as being mysterious. As I spoke ​I seemed to be conscious somehow of a third person being present.

      It seems unbelievable but over in the corner there I seemed to know of a shadowy something and to know that Naomi and I were not alone.

      I had always laughed at omens, superstitions, and ghosts, but I had had that feeling once or twice before when I was with her.

      I gave her the book on my way out. I had promised to go out to see someone—and did not reach home till rather late.

      It was getting dark. I threw myself down in the comfortable arm-chair I kept in a cosy corner with its back to the light, and threw my head back, and gave myself up to a lovely feeling of rest.

      An irresistible feeling came over me to go down and see what Naomi was doing.

      It seemed a silly thing to go down just to say good-night. I knew she must be tired after having worried about getting things ready all day.

      I put the feeling aside but it seemed to take possession of me and at last I gave way to it and went.

      "Are you there, Naomi?"

      "Yes, come in," she said.

      She was sitting with Hedda Gabler open as if she had been reading it. Her head was bent over it and her hands clasped tight with her fingers interlocked and pressed—fingers outward—tight against her forehead. She did not move as I came in. The lamp burned bright on the table before her.

      "Headache?" I asked breaking the silence.

      "No—anything but," she said.

      She would not look up at me at all and I sat quiet wondering.

      "I've finished your 'Hedda,'" she said, "how you can like her I don't know."

      "I didn't say I liked her," I said, "except for her artistic value. I like the play."

      "You're the queerest mixture of theory and practice," she said. "She was a beast to those aunts, and you believe in kindness."

      "Oh, Naomi, those aunts were rather troublesome," I said.

      No, not a word of praise for Hedda.

      But there was something strange and mysterious about her that night. She did not stir while I was there but just looked up to say good-night.

      "If you could let me have your latch-key, dear, when you go out on Saturday, I might take my things up in the morning," she had said.

      ​So when Saturday arrived I hunted up a gay little ribbon, tied it to my latch-key and went down to her.

      "There you are," I said.

      I held the ribbon over her head like a necklace and dropped it and kissed her cheek with a laugh.

      She started as I held it up as if she did not know what I was going to do.

      "Wear it there just as I do," I said, turning to her as I hurried to the door.

      "Now I'm safe," she said.

      There was a curious look on her face as she said it—something mysterious that I could not understand.

      Safe! Why "safe?" I wondered, and I thought of a hunted thing.

      I ran off to my work, happy in the thought of having her even closer at hand and someone to meet me right at home when I came back.