A week passed and one evening Mr. Courtney came out on the train to
remain over night at "Friedenheim," and with him were Ralph and James
Rivers.
He had something in contemplation which he wished to impart to the Rev.
Carl and Mrs. Courtney, and when supper was finished and they returned
to the library he mentioned what he thought they might consider a
foolish experiment.
"Brother Carl and Sister Emma, I am thinking of housekeeping. What is
your opinion of it?" he asked.
"Do you mean at 'My Lady's Manor'?" asked Mrs. Courtney. "I think it
would be charming thus having you for a neighbor; it would be next best
to having you at 'Friedenheim'."
"I, too, am pleased," said Rev. Carl. "Are you really in earnest?"
"Yes, I would like to at least make the trial, if I can get a suitable
housekeeper."
"But the apparition, Val!" reminded Rev. Carl in a low tone. "Of course
we give no credence to such foolishness, but you may have trouble in
getting a housekeeper."
"I would never have taken Anna there until the mystery was explained,
neither would I be willing to have anyone run the chance of being
frightened, but Ralph and James have a plan in view which I will not
disappoint them by divulging. In the meantime Hilda mentioned that Mrs.
Merryman knows of a woman who wishes to come to Dorton; did she happen
to mention it to you, Sister Emma?"
"Yes, she asked me if I knew of anyone who needs a housekeeper. It is
Nora's aunt who wishes a place. She is now at a friend's house in the
city."
"I wish you would see Mrs. Merryman in regard to it when convenient."
"I will go or send there to-morrow, and am sure that Mrs. Merryman will
act promptly in regard to securing her."
About twilight Ralph and James, with traveling satchels in hand, walked
to "My Lady's Manor" with the intention of discovering, if possible,
what manner of creature it was that was deceiving so many people.
The satchel of James held a lamp, candles and matches, and Ralph's
contained a stiff rope with a noose at one end, with which he purposed
capturing the spectre.
They took a survey of the mansion and decided upon occupying the two
bed-rooms overlooking the quarters.
The doors of both rooms opened into the corridor, and these they decided
to lock, that any unquiet spirit that chose to visit one of the rooms
could have free access only to the other.
Not a sound disturbed the stillness of the night; they slept peacefully
until the white sails upon the Patapsco were tinged with rosy hues of
the ascending sun.
Before returning to "Friedenheim" they explored the attic room, which
was void of furniture or articles of any kind, but found no clue to the
mystery, nor hiding place for even a mouse.
As the spectre declined to visit them when the doors leading to the
corridor were locked, the next night they decided to leave the door ajar
which led into it from the bed-room which Mrs. Farnsworth and Anna had
used as a library, and to place a lighted lamp near the steps leading to
the attic rooms. Ralph, with rope behind him, lay down upon the lounge
in that room and James occupied the room adjoining.
He was too excited to sleep, but Ralph was in the land of dreams when
something like an icy hand touched his forehead. He sprang up, rope in
hand, and followed the little lady in black who had glided through the
door and ascended several steps toward the attic room, threw the noose
about her neck and brought her to a halt so suddenly that she had to
cling to the banister to keep from falling. A piece of marble which had
simulated the cold hand fell to the floor, the lace cap and gray curls
fell back, disclosing a head of glossy black hair, and the dough mask
fell off, showing the humiliated face of Jerusha Flint.
The boys stood appalled at the discovery, and Jerusha shed a torrent of
tears, but whether from shame or grief or anger they had no means of
knowing.
She spoke no word, but like a veritable spectre, glided up the attic
stairs and was seen no more. Only the sound of the shutting of a distant
door in some part of the large building could be faintly heard, then the
boys locked the three doors and slept in the bed-room until morning.
It is doubtful if any news could have given more genuine astonishment to
the home circle at "Friedenheim" than that of Miss Flint playing the
role of a spectre, and the motive that prompted her was quite as much of
a mystery. But before the day closed the matter was made plain by Miss
Jerusha, who sent a humble message to Mrs. Courtney to come to see her,
as she desired earnestly to converse with her and was too ill to leave
her cottage.
Mrs. Courtney went immediately, and although Miss Jerusha expected her,
she could scarcely raise her eyes to her neighbor's face when she stood
beside her, so humiliated was she as she lay pale, yet feverish, upon
the lounge.
"I don't know what you can think of me, Mrs. Courtney," she said, as she
signified her wish for her visitor to take the seat beside her, "but I
will tell you the exact truth."
Mrs. Courtney took the chair in silence and Miss Flint, after a pause,
resumed.
"Anna Ashburton was my friend, the only person in her position who
treated me as an equal, and because she had given me her friendship, I
told her what I have told no other, before or since. She understood me
as no other human being could; she pitied me and loved me; and if I
could have remained with her I would not be the desolate, unhappy,
malicious creature I am. It was a bitter blow to us when we were cast
out of that beautiful home. We both loved it, and I say in all sincerity
that I grieved more for her sake than for my own. I had not her gentle
spirit, having inherited a proud and implacable temper, and I vowed in
my homeless condition that so far as lay in my power to prevent it,
Reginald Farnsworth should never find purchaser or tenant for his
ill-gotten property."
"But my dear Miss Flint," said Mrs. Courtney, "'My Lady's Manor' has not
belonged to Mr. Farnsworth for several years. He gave it back to Anna
Ashburton and she bequeathed it to my brother, Valentine Courtney."
"Bequeathed it to your brother!" echoed Miss Jerusha slowly, and turning
very pale. "She had it to bequeath, yet never told me of it in any of
the kind, affectionate letters she wrote to me?"
"She did not become owner of the property until a short time before her
death. She was coming to see all her Maryland friends and was keeping it
as a surprise."
"She left her property to a man who has already more wealth than he can
use, and not one penny to me whom she promised to give a home if she
ever had one to share with me! God help me! I thought I had one friend,
but there is no such a thing in the wide world. My life has been a
miserable failure."
"You should not censure Anna Ashburton, Miss Flint. I feel sure it was
her intention to keep her promise to you."
A scornful smile crossed the thin lips of Jerusha, but she made no
response.
"And you should not count your life a failure, there is no one in the
neighborhood more useful."
A sniff of derision rewarded this sincere compliment.
"Please tell me," resumed Mrs. Courtney, "how you could act the part of
a spectre and not frighten the servants away."
"Nothing could be simpler," replied Miss Jerusha wearily. "They were
glad of anything that would dishearten Mr. Farnsworth and cause him to
restore Anna's property to her. They never saw me, because nothing would
tempt them to enter the main building except in daytime, and then not
alone."
"You always disappeared in the unfurnished attic room, yet James and
Ralph, who examined it thoroughly, could find no place of exit."
"That was yet simpler when understood. In that one short, happy summer
with Anna I was one afternoon gathering clusters of grapes from the
arbor which yet shades this end of the house, and noticed a locked door
for which I could see no use. I spoke of it to Anna and she explained
that it led by flights of narrow steps to a room just their width, off
the back attic, and furnished with rows of hooks for meat. After the
building of a meat house it was abandoned and almost forgotten.
"When we were forced to leave 'My Lady's Manor' my plans were laid.
There was no key to that door, but my brother, being a locksmith, had
keys of every shape and size. I took the impression of the keyhole in
wax and never gave up trying keys until I got one that would turn the
rusty lock. Then, screened by the arbor, I could gain admittance any
hour of the day or night."
"But how could you get from the meat room to other parts of the house?"
"There is a sliding door in the partition which allowed the servants of
that day to get meat from the room without unlocking the outer door. It
fitted so perfectly that no one could detect it except by the knob,
which I took care should be removed; and it would not occur to anyone
that there was a narrow room between it and the outer weather-boarding
of the house."
"But the costume of Mrs. Joshua Farnsworth?"
"Anna gave it to me as a memento of her foster mother. I kept it on one
of the hooks, and it was short work to don it. The meat room having no
window, the light from my shaded lamp could not be seen from the
outside. Here is the key. You can give it, with my compliments, to Mr.
Courtney;" and again the scornful smile passed over her lips.
Mrs. Courtney saw in this a hint of dismissal and arose to go; moreover
Miss Flint appeared weak and exhausted.
"But can I do nothing for you?" she asked. "It grieves me to leave you
so alone."
"When I need assistance from you or anyone in Dorton, or out of it, I
will ask it," replied Jerusha haughtily, her black eyes gleaming with
unshed tears, and, seeing that her presence was no longer desired, Mrs.
Courtney went home.
When she reached there she found a note from Mrs. Merryman saying that
Mrs. Flynn was ready any day to assume the duties of housekeeper at "My
Lady's Manor," and Mr. Courtney was encouraged to proceed with his
arrangements for housekeeping.
Busy days now followed, for Mrs. Courtney resolved that her brother's
home should be in perfect order for his reception on his return from the
city the first evening of taking possession of his inheritance, and all
the Courtney family be there to welcome him.
At length all was in readiness and not only the parlor but the kitchen
at "Friedenheim" was interested, for Chloe was to depart to take up her
abode as cook at "My Lady's Manor," and the evening of the home-coming
was sent over by Mrs. Courtney to have all in readiness for the supper
which she and Kitty had prepared, and would be brought later by Mose.
Chloe never felt her importance more than when, as sole occupant of "My
Lady's Manor," she unlocked the china closet and took out the beautiful
and costly ware, once the property of Mrs. Joshua Farnsworth. She was
absorbed in admiration of a tea plate, almost transparent when held
between her and the light, when the door quietly opened and Archie came
in, and without so much as a glance at the startled Chloe made his way
to the corner of the broad hearth.
"Archie was glad when he saw the smoke coming again from the chimney.
Archie has often looked for it," he said, rubbing his hands in
satisfaction at seeing the glow from the open grate of the range.
"Nobody comes into my kitchen without knockin'. Don't like folks to come
in that way nohow," remarked Chloe, keeping at a respectful distance.
"Archie never knocks. All the houses he goes to are Archie's homes."
"This is Marse Courtney's house and I am boss of this kitchen,"
proclaimed Chloe.
"Archie is tired. He has walked and walked," and before Chloe could make
further protest he had leaned back and closed his eyes in the
comfortable chair.
She kept on with her work, but it was with a feeling of relief that she
saw the carriage with Mrs. Courtney and Cecil stop at the gate.
Hilda on her way from the village school had stopped to speak to them,
and Mrs. Courtney, ever mindful of the pleasure of others, invited her
to assist in welcoming Mr. Courtney.
The delicate flush which always visited the cheek of Hilda at an
unexpected pleasure proved her eagerness to accept, and she followed
Mrs. Courtney up the broad walk to the entrance.
"I am afraid I ought not to stay. Aunt Grace will worry about me," she
said, as Chloe, in new plaid turban, opened the door, beaming with
satisfaction.
"I have thought of that, dear, and intend Cecil to drive over and tell
Mrs. Merryman that you are here."
"Oh, please let me go with him!" said Hilda eagerly; "I will put on my
pink cashmere dress and ask Norah to curl my hair."
"Certainly, my dear, if you wish it, but you look very neat to have been
in school all day."
With happiness heightening the beauty of her expressive face, Hilda
turned to go.
"Tell Mrs. Merryman not to be anxious about your coming home this
evening," enjoined Mrs. Courtney; "we will take you in the carriage."
"Come in and see the table before you go, honey," said Chloe, leading
the way to the supper room and watching for Hilda's admiring glance when
the table came in view.
"Oh, Chloe, it is splendid!" she said in delight. "I never saw china and
glass glisten so."
"Yes, honey, it do glisten, and so do the silver. Jes' you wait till the
lamps are lighted and you see that table with the fried chicken and
oysters and pounded biscuit and muffins and raspberry jam. Be sure and
hurry back, honey! Come as soon as ever you can!"
As eager to be among all these triumphs as was Chloe to have her, Hilda
promised, when a new thought came to her.
"Chloe, will there be little bouquets at the plates and a large one in
the center of the table as Mrs. Courtney likes to have at home?"
"I 'spect so, honey. Mis' Emma allus sees to the flowers. There's oceans
of 'em growin' wild in the yards and garden."
"Oh, Chloe, I have the loveliest pink rosebuds at home. I will bring
them to put at Mr. Valentine's plate."
"Where did you get them, honey?"
"The miller's wife gave the bush to me. She asked Miss Jerusha Flint for
it, because it had been planted by Aunt Ashley. And Miss Jerusha gave
it, although she knew it was for me. I knew nothing of it until I came
one evening from school and found it in my flower bed. It was very kind
of them."
"I 'spect, honey, Miss Flint don't care for flowers, or you wouldn't
have it now."
Hilda smiled and was hurrying away when she caught sight of Chloe's
first guest.
"Why, there is Archie!" she cried, "dear, dear Archie!" and running to
him, she took his hand in her soft little palms.
"Does you know him, honey?" asked Chloe, full of surprise.
"Know him? Oh, Chloe, he saved my life!"
"Yes, honey, I done heard that some old body found you in the snow.
Mighty fine girl he saved; he ought to be proud of that find."
"Archie is proud," said the old man who had waked at the first sound of
Hilda's voice. "Archie looks all the time for people in the snow since
he found her."
By this time Cecil, who had finished bringing in the baskets, was
waiting for her. She ran out, stepped into the carriage and was driven
away.
"I hope we won't meet any boys," thought Cecil. "They would never stop
plaguing me."
Mrs. Merryman was glad that Hilda had the prospect of this pleasant
visit and entertained Cecil while she ran up to her room to dress,
keeping in remembrance the roses she was to take.
"I am so glad you will be there, Miss Hilda," said Norah joyously as she
curled the girl's beautiful hair. "I am to go as soon as our supper is
over, and will stay all night with aunt, for Mrs. Merryman, bless her
kind heart, says that aunt will feel strange and lonely at first."
"I am glad you are coming, Norah; I am sure your aunt will be glad to
have you."
Looking very fair and sweet in her becoming toilet and with rosebuds in
hand, Hilda reached "My Lady's Manor" and was assisted from the carriage
by Mr. Valentine Courtney, who was watching for her.
"My little Hilda expected to welcome me. Instead I welcome, gladly
welcome her to my home," and, taking her hand in his, they went up the
broad path to the entrance.
"Thank you, sir," smiled Hilda. "When I went past here to school this
morning I never thought of being here this evening."
"I hope it is as much pleasure to you to be here as it is to me to
welcome you," he said kindly.
"Yes, I love to be here. I think 'My Lady's Manor' the loveliest place
in the world."
"Then I hope you will come very often," he returned smiling with
pleasure. "You are fond of reading, I am sure."
"Oh, yes, I do love a pretty book; I am reading a beautiful story now."
"Here is a large collection and suitable for every age," said Mr.
Courtney as they reached the library, which since the days of Mr.
Reginald Farnsworth was on the first floor, across the hall from the
parlor--"you can read here when it suits you, or you can take any books
home with you that you wish."
The glad light in Hilda's eyes and the flush upon her cheek showed her
appreciation of the offer, for which she thanked him in her naturally
graceful manner.
It was one of the happiest hours of Mr. Courtney's life when, in company
with his sister, her husband and sons and Hilda, they sat at supper in
his own home for the first time.
Mrs. Courtney did the honors, and Roy and Cecil, though accustomed to
Kitty's and Chloe's culinary achievements all their lives, considered
the supper the best they ever tasted.
Twilight came and the whistle of a departing train had scarcely died
upon the air, when Norah, who had gone to the Dorton Station, was seen
coming with her aunt. Hilda ran to the gate to meet them, and Mrs.
Courtney received Mrs. Flynn kindly, introduced her to her employer, and
asked Norah to take her to her room while Chloe prepared her supper.
Mrs. Courtney admired the neat-looking woman with the stamp of goodness
in her face and felt satisfied that she was a suitable person to manage
her brother's household.
Hilda had never enjoyed an evening so thoroughly, as she flitted like a
bird through the spacious rooms. She was now in the parlor listening to
the cheerful conversation, now in the tea room with Mrs. Flynn and
Norah, then in the kitchen where Chloe was putting all in order for the
night, and Archie was resting in his chair.
"What's to be done about him, honey?" asked Chloe in a whisper, nodding
her gay turban toward the sleeper. "He's gwine to stay all night, that's
certain; I knowed that as soon as he was done supper, 'cause he never
sighted his ol' hat and cane in the corner, but made straight back to
his chair."
"Will I ask Mrs. Courtney, Chloe?" whispered Hilda.
"Ax Marse Val, honey, 'cause the house is his'n now."
Hilda returned to the parlor and stood beside Mr. Valentine Courtney
until he finished something he was saying to Rev. Carl.
"Chloe wishes to know if Archie is to stay over night," she said
somewhat anxiously; "he does not say anything about going away."
"Certainly he can stay," replied Mr. Courtney. "Please tell Chloe to see
that he has a comfortable bed," and Hilda sped away, well pleased with
her mission.
"It would be a poor beginning to my housekeeping to turn a fellow
pilgrim away, would it not?" he asked, with a smile, of Rev. Carl.
"I think so, indeed. You are doing right to invite him to stay and to
make him comfortable."
"Before we leave you perhaps it would be advisable for me to go through
the rooms in the back building and see which would be best to give him,"
suggested Mrs. Courtney.
Before Mr. Valentine could reply Hilda came running back to the parlor.
"He has gone to his room without waiting for anybody to tell him," she
said almost breathlessly. "He says he knows the room that Lois gave
him."
Rev. Carl gave a hearty peal of laughter, in which all joined. "That is
the style of visitors to have, brother Val," he said; "they save you the
trouble of entertaining them."
"I look upon it as a good omen," smiled his brother-in-law. "I hope my
home will be a place of rest and refreshment to all who enter its
doors."
"I am sure it will be," said Mrs. Courtney sincerely; "but this Archie,
I don't understand his saying that he knows the room that Lois gave him.
I am quite sure it was not in Mr. Joshua Farnsworth's time, or in that
of his widow, or Anna. I was here quite often, and never saw him or
heard any of them speak of him."
"The servants who had charge afterward may have allowed him to sleep
here, and no doubt were glad to have company near them," suggested Rev.
Carl.
"While we were reviving Hilda the night that Archie found her in the
snow, Diana Strong mentioned that she had seen him on the road more than
once, but did not know his name," remarked Mrs. Courtney.
"I, too, remember hearing him spoken of that evening," rejoined Rev.
Carl. "Dr. Lattinger mentioned that he frequently met him, and said that
he was a mystery to him, reminding him of the Wandering Jew. He added
that Archie is weak-minded and does not know his last name."
"He appears to be one who has seen better times," commented Mrs.
Courtney. "There is an air of refinement about him that one does not see
in the ordinary wayfarer. I believe that he has a history, but it is not
likely that we will ever know it."
It was now time to return to "Friedenheim," and Mrs. Courtney arose to
go.
"I hope, sister, that you will allow Roy and Cecil to come here
frequently and pass the night with me. I will bring Ralph and James
often, and wish all these young people and their friends to take
pleasure in visiting here."
"They will not be more pleased to come than I will be to have them with
you, and we all wish you every happiness in your home," replied his
sister affectionately. And thus ended the happy day that welcomed Hilda
Brinsfield for the second period of her life to "My Lady's Manor."