THE GHOST PARTY
Greycliff “mysteries” had long since ceased to interest our girls.
Isabel had lost her concern about the “Woman in Black” and the
“mysterious” girl had been swallowed up with the rest into the busy life
of the school. Her name had proved simple enough. “Miss Louise Holley,
O, isn’t she jolly?” rhymed Betty, rather satirically; but the new girl
had laid aside her attitude of distance and tried to make herself
agreeable to the other girls. Like Cathalina, she recited irregularly
with the Academy and Collegiate girls, was in Cathalina’s class in
literature, recited in Senior Academy Latin with Lilian and belonged to
the bird club which included both Hilary and Cathalina. The girls
wondered about her age, as girls do, and Cathalina occasionally caught
the resemblance to “somebody” which had puzzled her from the first. “It
isn’t connected with a pleasant feeling, girls, but I can’t tell why and
I’m sure it isn’t fair to this nice girl to think of it.”
“She was probably sore over things at first,” said Isabel.
The conclusion was that Miss Holley was about eighteen or nineteen years
old and was “back” in some of her studies. She kept to herself quite a
little, but was often found in the groups of Collegiate girls. From the
single room on the first floor she had been moved to one not far from
the little suite occupied by Isabel and Avalon, though her room was on a
different hall. Occasionally she would call in one or the other of these
girls to hook up a dress or do some little thing for her and reward them
liberally with candy, fruit or nuts. Isabel was an independent little
thing and did not like it much. “Let her get some of the _real_ little
girls to do things!” she growled.
“Why, Isabel, I don’t think that’s kind!”
“Well, Avalon, you don’t notice my not wanting to do things for other
people, do you? But she’s so overbearing. I hate to be bossed, but I
s’pose it _is_ wicked.”
“I don’t mind; and she’s always been so pleasant to me. I feel so sorry
about her father. Isn’t it funny she hasn’t any picture of him in her
room?”
“That’s so. I never thought of it before,—but she hasn’t a sign of a
photograph around.”
“I suppose it makes her feel too bad. I’ve found out by this time that
all girls aren’t alike.”
“You don’t mean it! What a philosopher!” Cathalina, overhearing the last
remark, joined the two younger girls.
“Don’t you make fun of me, Cathalina V. B. I heard you say almost the
same thing the other day. Besides, anybody might have noticed it.”
There was a rustic seat near the corner of Greycliff Hall on the side of
the grove, and there Avalon, Isabel and Cathalina waited the approach of
Hilary and Lilian, who came swinging tennis racquets. It was so lovely
out of doors on these evenings after dinner that campus, beach and woods
were always sprinkled with these living flowers of spring till the study
bell rang. Hammocks were up, and freshly painted swings had come out of
winter quarters.
Hilary dropped upon a grassy seat and waved an answer to Eloise who now
called and came running over the campus, her hands full of the violets
which she had been gathering. “O, girls, you’re all invited to a Ghost
Party tonight.”
“A ‘Ghost Party’!” repeated Hilary. “That sounds interesting,—and what
may a ghost party be?”
Isabel sprang to her feet and began an exaggerated display of shivering,
her teeth chattering, chin wobbling and eyes as big as saucers. “Who’s
got my golden ar-rr-rrm?” she wailed.
“Ha! The Woman in Black!” added Hilary. “That’s about the way you
looked, Isabel, when you thought you saw her.”
“When I _did_ see her, you mean. Who’s giving the party?” Isabel asked
of Eloise, and turning to Hilary, again continued, “Say no more, fair
maid! I’m awfully ashamed of being afraid that time. I hope my brothers
never hear of it.”
“Grace and I are giving the party. We just thought it up.”
“Where’ll it be?”
“In our rooms,—well, different places. It’s _very_ mysterious.”
“How can we?” asked Cathalina. “It’s almost time for the bell now, and
I’ve got oodles of work to do tonight.”
“After study hours. If I can I’ll get permission for a midnight feast.
If I can’t, come around for a little while between study hours and
lights out anyhow. Grace has a lovely cake from home and she is over at
the janitor’s now, engaging his wife to make sandwiches and lemonade for
us. I’m going to see if we can’t sit up to have it. It’s Friday
night—the fatal thirteenth of the month, too—and no school tomorrow, of
course, and I haven’t asked for a special thing this year. It’ll be a
pity if I can’t have a single party! O, yes, wear a sheet and some sort
of a white muslin mask,—just holes to breathe, talk and see through, and
better wear white gloves or cover up your hands some way, ’cause we’d
recognize your hands, you know. And think up the most scary ghost story
you know to tell when you join the magic circle by moonlight! Isabel,
you’ll have to think up something besides the woman in black. I’ll send
you all word if we can have it. If we can, come in your ghostly garb at
ten bells!”
“Won’t it be fun!”
“Elo’ ought to ask the ‘mysterious’ girl to a ghost party.”
“O, it’ll just be our bunch, I think,” said Isabel, with much pride in
belonging to it! “Why should she ask Louise Holley? She’s older, and
then we just called her ‘mysterious’ at first.”
“I’m not so sure that there isn’t something queer about her,” said
Hilary, creating quite an impression; for Hilary was regarded as very
“level-headed.” “After being so snippy to Cathalina at first, she has
been in to see her a number of times lately, and hinted very broadly
after hearing about my visit that she would ‘so enjoy New York.’ She
asks such funny questions, and shuts up like a clam about herself,—of
course we haven’t asked anything after the first things one would
naturally ask at school, and got snubbed for them!”
A smothered sneeze from around the corner made the girls stop talking
and look at each other.
“Somebody’s been listening,” whispered Cathalina.
“Trying to find out about our party! I hope she hears a lot of good
about herself,” promptly and pertly spoke Isabel, the last quite loudly.
Hilary sprang up from the ground and hurried around the corner. But she
was too late.
“Whoever it was either skipped out into the grove or whisked into the
side door. It’s of no use to follow, too many girls everywhere. She’d be
strolling along like one of them.”
Friday was the accustomed night for the occasional “midnight feast”,
official name for any sort of affairs after hours. Privileges of this
kind were granted only to girls of good standing in both character and
lessons at Greycliff. As Eloise qualified in both lines she had no
difficulty in securing the desired permission. “Be quiet, though,” she
was admonished. “O, it’s an especially quiet party,” and Eloise laughed
to think of the ghostly plans. With such assurance, Miss Randolph
dismissed Eloise with a smile.
Cathalina and Hilary, on reaching their suite after the study bell rang,
plunged into lessons with determination.
“I feel like letting down on Friday,” said Hilary, “but if I do, I don’t
get through. (I’m a natural poet, Cathalina.) Saturday always has so
many things and Saturday night I can hardly ever study.”
“Yes; I’ve noticed that, too,” returned Cathalina.
Time flew and the work was scarcely done when the gong released
Greycliff girls from study for a half hour before the lights must be
out.
“We aren’t to go till ‘ten bells,’” Grace said, “so why not keep on
working until we’re through?”
“We’d have to explain to Miss Matthews when she looks in to see if we’re
here.”
“I’ll do that if you hate to,” said Hilary, who had taken all sorts of
disagreeable responsibilities all her life—for other people.
“We’ll lay out the sheets and things, then, and she’ll see.”
From the halls came the noise of girls running past, getting fresh
water, visiting, laughing and talking till once again the gong rang.
Miss Matthews did not come. Hilary and Cathalina donned their sheets and
made their masks without having to explain why their lights were not
out, and by the time they were ready it was nearly “ten bells”. “O,
_isn’t_ this fun!” exclaimed Cathalina. “I wonder just what we shall
do!”
Ghostly figures glided down the halls to be silently admitted by a
sheeted doorkeeper, on presenting the required pass, a slip of paper on
which a skull and crossbones were drawn. “O, forgot,” whispered one.
“I’ll run and get it.”
“O, no you needn’t,” replied the kind ghost at the door. “It was just
for fun.”
Eloise and Grace with Juliet and Pauline now occupied one of the larger
suites, and a jolly time they had of it. Tonight the central study room
was cleared from obstruction and a circle of cushions made, to which the
ghosts were pointed as they entered. Only the moonlight streaming in
through the big windows furnished guidance, though occasional flashes of
electricity from the hands of some hostess ghost showed the preparation
for more light if necessary. “Do ghosts use flashlights?” queried
Avalon. “Remember the will-o’-the-wisps,” replied Cathalina.
The circle complete, slips of paper were passed around and a slim white
figure took her place in the center of the circle. Reaching to the
electric fixture above her, she turned on the light and in the hollow
whisper directed the ghosts to print in large letters their names “in
life” and pin them on “with a thorn from the Witches’ Glen!” Real thorns
were offered in a large pin try.
“Within the circle you will find
Other papers to your mind;
Write a good and ghostly verse;
’Spress yourself in language terse.”
“That must be Elizabeth Barrett Browning at least!” quoth one ghost.
“Too much like work!” complained another, in a ghostly whisper.
“It doesn’t have to rhyme. Write anything you choose. It is supposed to
be your message from the Land of Ghosts.”
“Do we have to be women?”
“No.”
The names pinned on represented many centuries and countries. Helen of
Troy, Cleopatra, Queen Victoria, Mary Queen of Scots, Mrs. Browning,
Florence Nightingale, Louise of Prussia, Marie Antoinette and Xantippe
mingled with George Washington, Julius Caesar, Ulysses and other
gentlemen of like fame. Five minutes were allowed for the messages,
after which cups of “ambrosia” were to be passed for refreshment. The
ghost who made the announcements suffered much difficulty in not lapsing
into their natural tones. Cathalina was sure that she recognized both
Eloise and Juliet. Cathalina had decided to be Xantippe, for she thought
the girls would not suspect her choosing that character. With great
enjoyment she wrote:
“When on earth, Xantippe, I!
Couldn’t bake the worst of pie;
Scolded Socrates,—O my!—
Till he filled the cup,—to die!”
“Each ghost will read her own verse, standing, and may be asked any
questions by other ghosts. Remember that your laugh or some motion may
betray you! If you are a sad spirit, give a groan as you complete the
verse; if a happy spirit, a laugh.”
“Suppose you don’t know where these ghosts have gone to—what then?”
“Guess at it! If your identity is not guessed before the verses are
finished, there will be other tests. The final unmasking,—or unveiling
will come just before the feast. Next come the ghost stories in the
moonlight.”
Several of the girls were discovered in the merriment over the verse and
had to write their names under the assumed one on the tag. Then the
light was turned off again and ghost stories began. Eloise was in the
midst of a thrilling one, “And as she lay there in the moonlight, the
French window swung softly open, an icy breeze seemed to enter and a
cold hand was placed on her forehead,”—when one of the ghosts gave a
little jump, said in a whisper, “Please excuse me a minute,” and slipped
out of the door.
“Was she scared, do you suppose?” asked Eloise, pausing in her account.
“No; go on,—if she does not come back we’ll hunt her up pretty soon.”
The stories went on, the girls drawing closer together, but in a few
minutes a gentle knock sounded at the door. The ghost nearest reached up
and opened it, while Eloise said, “O, you’re back all right. I was
afraid I had scared you.”
“‘_Back?_’—no,” replied the amazed ghost. “I’m Betty and just came. I
s’pose I’ve just about missed it all!”
“No, but I’m so sorry you’ve not been here! How _funny_! Who could it
have been? Well, come join the magic circle anyway and tell a ghost
story.”
“I—can’t. I’m all out of breath and—” “All right; you next, Di.”
“Girls, do you hear it striking twelve?” said. Hilary, after some time.
Eloise rose and turned on the light. “All respectable ghosts disappear
at the stroke of twelve! Masks off! We’re going to put on the sheets
again after the eats and have a procession through the halls.”
“Better not,” said Betty, meaningly. It was done, however, though the
shadows did not look particularly inviting after those ghost stories!
Even Cathalina and Hilary joined in the ridiculous procession that filed
up to the third floor, down the back stairs, out to the porch through a
parlor window, down the front steps, out upon the campus and circling
the fountain, and then as the voice of the night watchman was heard,
scampering into the Hall with tightly gathered robes, back to safety!
“I wish I didn’t have such an awful conscience!” said Cathalina. “It
spoils half the fun to be perfectly sure that Miss Randolph wouldn’t
want us to go outdoors!”
“My little conscience troubles me too,” admitted Hilary.
* * * * *
At the first opportunity the following day, Betty and Eloise came in
with sober faces to see Cathalina and Hilary.
“Listen!” said Eloise, mysteriously. “Betty has something to tell you.
She had an adventure last night.”
“Girls,” said Betty impressively, “never, _never_ go out alone after
night.”
“That advice would certainly suit Miss Randolph.”
“Well, Miss Randolph is right! Honestly I never realized till this
morning what might have happened. Why, I might have been kidnapped!
“And please let’s keep this to ourselves,” continued Betty. “Only Lilian
knows it in our suite, and Eloise, and we want to know what you girls
think of it all.
“I wanted to finish a problem last night; so I told the girls to go and
I would come in a few minutes. I had on the sheet and everything. Pretty
soon the door opened a little farther,—the girls had left it ajar—and in
flew a big envelope. I had my mind on the problem and didn’t ‘come to’
for a minute, then went over and picked up the envelope. It was
addressed to me with a note in it, everything printed in crazy letters.
‘Very important. Meet me outside. Back door unlocked. Big oak near the
janitor’s—have to bring up eats—hurry—don’t let the night watchman see
you—Ghost Eloise.’ I thought Elo’ was in a hurry and in a ‘funny’ humor,
ghosts and so forth, and never suspected a thing. I looked out in the
hall and saw several girls in sheets going the right way for the party,
so I hurried down the back way, wondering where Eloise had gotten a key
and why she should mention the night watchman if she had permission to
get the eats, as I supposed she had. I was such a dummy! There was a
light at the janitor’s house, so I wasn’t scared a bit.
“Well, I waited and _waited_ and waited! No Eloise, of course. And I was
just going to start over to the janitor’s when lo and behold the light
there went out! I whirled on my heel to go back to the Hall,—and there
was a young man walking rapidly toward me out of the grove!”
“My sakes, Betty, you take my breath,” said Hilary. “Is this a movie?”
“‘Truth is stranger than fiction,’ Hilary,” reminded the absorbed
Cathalina.
“Honestly, girls, I was so frightened for a minute that I was _weak_,
and couldn’t take to my heels as I wanted to! But I saw that he was
young and nice looking and well dressed,—and he called, not very loud,
‘Is that you, Louise?’
“‘No,’ I said, ‘it is not.’
“‘O,’ he said and seemed to be disappointed, so I knew he didn’t have
any designs on me. Then he told me that he had expected to meet his
sister down on the beach, that he came in a motor boat and had something
important for her, but came earlier than he had planned and so walked up
hoping to meet her. He looked around sort of uncomfortably and said he
didn’t see how he could wait and something about how silly they were
here about hours and rules. I suppose he thought I was a rule-breaker
too, and would sympathize.
“Then he asked if I would do him a favor: ‘If I run down to the boat and
get the package—it isn’t a large one—would you give it to my sister?’
“‘I don’t know who your sister is,’ I said.
“‘It’s addressed,’ he said and hurried off without waiting for me to say
I would or wouldn’t, just took it for granted that I would!
“So I waited again—_hours_—and thought I never would get to the party.
Finally he came back and apologized for keeping me waiting, said he’d
mislaid a letter and gave me a big packet,—looked like letters and
papers all tied up. ‘Of course you’ll not mention this,’ he said, and
gave me such a look! He ‘had me in his power,’ as the stories say, so I
said ‘naturally not’ in a high and mighty way and walked off. By this
time I knew that somebody had played a joke on me and Eloise had never
been at the janitor’s at all!”
“Did you deliver the packet?”
“Yes; I wish I had waited and given it to Miss Randolph first, but my
smart thoughts always come a week or so too late! The package was
addressed to Miss Louise Holle, spelled ‘le’ instead of ‘ley’ as I had
supposed. When I rapped on her door there was no answer, so I tried it,
found it unlocked and decided to open it and leave the packet there. I
just put it on a chair that I saw near the door. The moonlight shone in
on her bed and it was empty. I suppose she had gone out to meet him,
maybe to the beach. I heard a motor boat chugging away as I came through
the halls.”
“She must have had a nice wait if she missed him,” said Hilary.
“Mercy, Betty,” exclaimed Cathalina, “it might have been somebody to
kidnap you, as you say. Where in the world was the night watchman?”
“O, smoking behind some tree, or asleep on the porch, I suppose,”
replied Betty, forgetting that she had done her best to keep out of
sight, while the prowling visitor had doubtless done the same.
Eloise then told of the ghost who had come without the “skull and
crossbones pass”, and of the one that left shortly before Betty arrived.
“I thought it was the same one coming back, you know. And when we all
unmasked, _everybody I had invited was there_. So somebody planned to
get Betty out of the way and come herself. Now do you suppose it was
Louise?”
“Somebody else may have done it for a joke on Betty or all of us, you
remember that sneeze around the corner!”
“The plot thickens,” laughed Cathalina. “Did the young man look like
Louise?”
“Yes, very much. I think he really is her brother, or some near
relative, but why couldn’t he come to see her at some decent hour, and
inside of Greycliff?”
Nobody could answer that question.