He had been disappointed in love, and
had no one to leave his riches to. This was the story told by Reverend
Silas Van de Lear.
The people of Kensington were less concerned with the truth of this tale
than with the future intentions of the visitor.
"How long he tarries in Zane's homestead!" said the people that spring.
"Hasn't he settled that estate yet?"
"It never will be settled if he can help it," said public Echo, "as long
as there are two fine young women there, and one of them so fascinating
over men!"
Indeed, Duff Salter received letters, anonymous, of course--the
anonymous letter was then the suburban press--admonishing him to beware
of his siren hostess.
"_She has ruined two men_," said the elegant female handwriting before
observed. "_You must want to be the subject of a coroner's inquest. That
house is bloody and haunted, rich Mr. Duff Salter! Beware of Lady
Agnes, the murderess! Beware, too, of her accomplice, the insinuating
little Byerly!_"
Duff Salter walked out one day to make the tour of Kensington. He passed
out the agreeable old Frankford road, with its wayside taverns, and hay
carts, and passing omnibuses, and occasional old farm-like houses,
interspersed with newer residences of a city character, and he strolled
far up Cohocksink Creek till it meandered through billowy fields of
green, and skirted the edges of woods, and all the way was followed by a
path made by truant boys.
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