THE MANOR GHOST
In spite of a firm intention to remain awake, Frances soon fell into
quiet slumber and knew nothing more until the next morning. February
dawns in England are dark, but when she finally opened her eyes, the
room was faintly lighted by the coming sun and her watch told her that
it was after eight.
Edith still seemed asleep, but from the bed at the left, Connie smiled
back at her. For some reason known only to herself, their gay little
hostess had decreed that Frances should take the centre bed.
"Awake?" she whispered. "How's Edith? Is she still off?"
As though she heard her name, Edith stirred, turned over and finally
rose on one elbow.
"Did you sleep well?" asked Constance. "We needn't get up unless you
like. When we are ready, Yvonne is to bring us breakfast in my
sitting-room. We'll wash and put on boudoir caps and eat _en negligée_."
At this delightful programme both girls became wide awake in an instant.
"And you will tell us about the ghost?" asked Frances.
"I will," replied Constance, sitting up and gathering her pretty kimono
about her, a lovely white Japanese crepe embroidered in gold with
fire-eating dragons of appalling size. One stretched across the front
as she fastened the folds. The girls also rose and put on their
dressing-gowns. Unlocking the door, Constance looked into the hall.
"I'll just see that the coast is clear before the procession forms,"
she remarked. "Daddy's rooms are down-stairs but Max's is on our way.
I'm quite sure though that he and Dad are already out, for Dad likes to
attend early service and Max has probably gone with him like a dutiful
young man."
As the three started, Edith turned to glance searchingly around.
"What are you looking for?" asked Frances.
"For the pussy," replied Edith, hurrying to overtake them. "I thought
there was one in the room."
"Miss Connie put it out," said Frances, laughing. "Wake up, Edith!"
As Edith spoke, Constance stopped to look at her rather oddly, then
went on quickly.
"When you are ready, come to my sitting-room," she said on reaching
their door. "It is at the end of this hall."
When the girls appeared ten minutes later, Constance was yet invisible.
In the sitting-room a table stood before a couch piled with pillows,
and two cushioned chairs opened luxurious arms.
"Isn't this the dearest room," said Frances appreciatively as she
settled herself. "I suppose this is Miss Connie's own especial place
where no one comes without an invitation."
In some respects the room was very unlike the sanctum of the average
girl. While not lacking in the daintiness bestowed by fresh flowers,
gay chintz and white draperies, it contained a number of objects not
often seen in a boudoir. On a teakwood stand in one corner, against the
background of a valuable Oriental rug in shimmering greens and blues,
sat a curious Indian idol. Constance's desk might once have been used
by some Italian princess in the days of Dante, and above it hung a
beautiful silver lamp that could well cause envy in the breast of
Aladdin. Pictures and ornaments alike spoke of wanderings in distant
lands and from their unusual individuality indicated a wide range of
interest in their possessor.
The door into the adjoining bedroom opened and Constance came out
attired in a lounging-robe that made both girls gasp with admiration.
"Oh, Miss Connie," Frances exclaimed, "what a beautiful kimono. And
what color is it?"
"Guess," said Constance merrily. "For a long time I didn't know myself
what to call it."
"It isn't blue nor gray," said Edith admiringly.
"Nor green nor violet," added Frances reflectively, "and yet it is all
of them. I've seen something like it but I can't think what."
"I suppose only an Oriental artist could conceive such a combination,"
said Constance, ringing the bell for Yvonne and then curling into a
little heap on the couch. "Dad brought it to me from Paris and I keep
it for very special occasions. I couldn't make out what color it was
but I loved it the minute I opened the box and I knew you girls would.
I've thought very seriously of having it made into an evening coat, for
it is too lovely to be used only in my room. But about its color. One
day this Christmas vacation I was feeling a bit poorly, so I had tea up
here and let Dad and Max come. I slipped on this robe to receive them
in state and the minute Max saw it, he told me what it was like. The
thing is in plain sight."
The girls glanced about the room. Edith's eyes lingered for a second on
a brass bowl full of blue hyacinths, but passed on.
"I have it!" exclaimed Frances, noticing a slight inclination of
Connie's fair head toward the open casement. "It's the color of the
ocean!"
"Right!" said Constance. "The moment Max said so, I knew it. He did it
very prettily, too, with some remark about the 'lady from the sea.' The
silk really does change and shade as the water under storm and sun."
There came a tap and Yvonne, bearing a most tempting tray, entered with
a smiling "_Bon jour, mes demoiselles._" Fruit, a fat little chocolate
pot sending forth a delicious odor, and flanked by delicate china and
shining silver, whipped cream, marshmallows, French rolls, sweet
unsalted butter and raspberry jam, made the girls feel hungry at the
mere sight. Dainty green and white snowdrops, tucked here and there by
Yvonne's artistic fingers added the final touch.
"I think this is the greatest fun," said Frances. "Do you always have
your breakfast this way?"
"Bless you, no," replied Constance. "This is an occasional Sunday
morning indulgence. Every other day of the week, I am up, dressed and
in my right mind to breakfast with my Dad. He'd think the world was
coming down about his ears if his Connie wasn't there to pour his
coffee. I warned him that we were going to have a debauch this morning
and he won't care anyway, because he has Max. What did you mean, Edith,
about a cat? Did you dream of Grayfur?"
"Why, no, it wasn't Grayfur," said Edith, dropping a marshmallow into
her chocolate and watching it dissolve. "I thought Mr. Max succeeded in
carrying out his joke. He must have come back much later and put
another pussy in from behind the portrait. I woke some time in the
night, oh, hours after, because the moonlight was 'way across the room,
and sitting in it, washing its face, was the prettiest little
half-grown kitten. It was a perfect beauty, white with a plumy tail. I
spoke to it very softly so as not to wake either of you, and it looked
at me and purred but would not come. I watched it chase its tail for a
little and then it jumped in a big chair and curled itself up to sleep.
I suppose it must have gone out when the door was opened this morning.
May we see it again, Miss Connie? It was much prettier than Grayfur.
But do tell us now about the ghost. We are in such a hurry to hear."
"You know practically all there is to know," said Constance whimsically.
Both girls stared at her. "What do you mean!" asked Edith. "Is it a
joke? Isn't there any ghost?"
"You know better than I do," replied Constance, tasting her chocolate
critically. "Did you have sugar, Frances? Why, you've seen the ghost,
Edith, which is more than I can say."
Edith's face was a picture of surprise. "_Seen_ it!" she repeated.
"Why, I saw nothing at all."
"I told you, didn't I, that the people who saw the ghost never knew it
at the time? This is the legend. About a century ago, the Richard
Lisle, then owner of the Manor, married a very charming young wife. He
was madly in love with her and was inclined to be rather jealous. The
story runs that he couldn't bear to have her lavish affection on
anything but him, was jealous of her dog and her horse and even of her
flower-garden. Winifred Lisle had a very pretty white Persian kitten--"
Constance stopped, for Edith's spoon fell with a clatter. "You don't
mean that darling purry little pussy was the _ghost!"_ she exclaimed.
"Listen to the story," Constance went on smiling. "Dick Lisle objected
to even this wee kit since it took some of his Winifred's time and
attention and he gave orders that it was never to be admitted to the
room where they spent the evening, presumably the library. The kitten
disappeared and Winifred mourned for it. Months later, its little
corpse was found on the secret stairs behind the portrait."
"Then Mr. Max didn't put a cat into the room?" asked Frances eagerly.
"I think not, unless he took the trouble to bring a white kitten with
him from Paris. Max is quite capable of doing it for a joke, but he
could not know, you see, that we were planning to sleep in that room
last night. And there is no white kitten about the Manor."
"Isn't that the oddest story!" said Edith in deep interest. "Why, Miss
Connie, I'm as sure as I am of anything that I saw that pussy playing
in the moonlight. It was the sweetest little thing and I did wish it
would come and cuddle by me in bed. Is it really a ghost? How do you
account for it?"
"I don't account for it," said Constance. "You can consider it a pretty
dream if you wish. I never saw it and I have a fancy that it is because
I am not fond of cats. When Frances said she did not like them, I knew
that she would not see the little ghost kit either, and so I wanted you
to take the bed nearest the moonlight."
"That's the most interesting thing that ever happened to me," said
Edith. "I'm so glad I saw it."
"Whether it is imagination or dream, I rather like to think of the
kitten ghost playing so gayly with its tail on moonlight nights," said
Connie. "No, only three or four people have seen it. The room is not
often used, and like Edith, they supposed it a kitten that had somehow
got in. Well, is the Manor ghost satisfactory?"
"I think it's the dearest thing I ever heard of," said Edith happily.
"But do you suppose that Winifred's husband shut it in there
deliberately?"
"We'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Cats are always poking about
in odd places. The door in the library may have been open a crack and
the kit gone in to investigate. Once I accidentally shut a kitten into
a drawer in the linen closet. Luckily Paget happened to open it within
an hour and she was surprised enough to find a pussy there. Now for the
rest of the morning. I heard Frances say that she wanted to hear a
church service in French just to see whether she could follow. If you
like, I'll get Max to take us into town and we will find a French
church to attend."
"That would be lovely," declared Fran enthusiastically. "I really
believe I could understand quite a little now."
"Thank you, Miss Connie," said Edith. "I'm afraid I ought to go home.
Fran can stay just as well as not, but Sister depends upon me to go to
church with her. I always do, you know."
Edith colored and looked uncomfortable, feeling that perhaps she was
being ungracious.
"You're a good little sister," said Constance quickly. "And you would
not care so much as Frances because you have always spoken French. I
imagine Dad will go to St. Aubin's and he'll take you home. I'll make
Max go with us."
Max was perfectly willing to play escort, but looked dubious when
Constance declared her intention of stopping at a tiny French church
just inside the town of St. Helier's. "Have you ever been here?" he
demanded.
"No," admitted Constance. "Of course we might go to the Convent of St.
André. I forgot, though, they wouldn't let you in. Frances only wants
to hear a sermon in French and this will answer very well."
Max still looked disapproving. "You won't like it," he said. "It's a
queer, non-conformist sect of some kind. There's a place the other side
of town where they have the Church of England service in French. Let's
go there."
"Why not stop here?" persisted Constance. "More exciting when one
doesn't know what's coming next."
"One may get more than one bargains for," commented Max. "Connie, I
have a premonition that we'll land in some mess."
Connie made a delightful little face. "Come in," she said to Frances.
"I was under the impression that we invited Max to escort _us._"
When Frances returned home from church, she was distressed to find Win
in bed.
"He overdid yesterday," said Mrs. Thayne in reply to her anxious
questioning. "I can't discover exactly what happened, but he and Roger
were out together and Win walked too far. That's all he will admit. No,
he isn't as badly off as sometimes, and says he only needs a rest. Come
up in his room, Fran, to tell your adventures."
To Fran's eyes Win looked decidedly ill when she saw him lying against
his pillows, but he evaded all inquiries and demanded to know about the
Manor ghost.
"That wasn't the end of our experiences," Frances went on laughing,
when the events of the night had been thoroughly discussed. "We had a
funny time in that little church. Mr. Max didn't want to go there in
the beginning, but Miss Connie insisted. Inside, it didn't look much
like a church for it was a great bare room, with not many people
present. The usher made us sit rather far front, so we had a good view
of the minister, who was a little man with black hair that stood
straight up, and his manner was very excited.
"The service seemed unusual for different people kept getting up and
talking. I couldn't understand much and Mr. Max looked annoyed and Miss
Connie amused. Finally a boy about my age began to speak. He wore the
oddest vest and trousers of rose-pink sateen plaided with purple. We
could see distinctly because the minister made him come out in front
and face the people. Well, the clothes he had on were enough to make
any one smile, but when he finished speaking, the minister bounced out
of the pulpit and kissed him on both cheeks! He did, honest!" Fran
insisted in answer to Roger's whistle of incredulity.
"I don't know what would have happened next, for the service was really
very strange, but when the minister kissed that boy, Mr. Max gave a
little grunt and took up his hat. I was sitting between them, and he
leaned forward and said in such a disgusted tone, 'My word, Connie,
_will_ you come?'
"I think Miss Connie was trying not to laugh but I guess she'd had
enough herself for she rose and we went out very quietly so as not to
disturb anybody.
"When we reached the street," Frances went on, "Mr. Max was so funny.
He didn't say a word, only stalked along looking quite cross. Miss
Connie sat down on a wall and laughed till she cried. Then she told Mr.
Max to smile and show his dimple. But he wouldn't. I don't see how he
could help it when she was so pretty and sweet. Well, after she laughed
some more, she begged him please to look affectionate.
"At that he couldn't help smiling, and then he asked Miss Connie if she
was ever going to stop getting herself and him into scrapes. She called
him 'old boy' and said she was sorry,--she wasn't really," Fran
interpolated with a wise nod,--"and promised to stick to the Church of
England service ever after. Mr. Max inquired how much I understood and
when I told him only a little, he said it was lucky. That was certainly
a very peculiar church," Frances ended reflectively. "I'm quite sure
that Mr. Max wanted to come out long before we did, and that Miss
Connie persisted in staying just to tease him."
Win was smiling over his sister's story, but though he evinced interest
both in the Manor ghost and in the amusing experience Connie had
furnished with her little French church, the point that most impressed
him was Max's presence at the Manor.
"I wish I could see him," he observed. "I want so much to ask a
question or two. Did Miss Connie tell him about the paper I found and
how we explored the vaults and sounded the walls?"
"She did," assented Frances. "We talked about it after dinner. Mr. Max
was as interested as could be and said he was going down himself to
take a look."
"Mother," said Win suddenly. "I really need to see him. Don't you
believe he'd come in for a minute if he knew I was used up so I
couldn't get to the Manor?"
"Indeed, I do," assented Mrs. Thayne. "Write a note, dear. Roger shall
take it for you."
Roger, who for some reason haunted his brother's room in a subdued mood
not at all common to his usual attitude toward life, was very willing
to act as messenger. Toward night, Max appeared at Rose Villa.