CHAPTER VIII The Ghost of Patience
"Move over, Terry, give me a look!" demanded Sim, elbowing her way nearerto the long mirror before which Terry was admiring herself.
"There's plenty of room and at least two more mirrors within easy walkingdistance," Terry replied. "Why we all have to congregate in here, I don'tknow."
"It's more fun, that's why," Arden crisply replied. "And we can talkbetter. Moselle can hear every word we say if we call to each other fromroom to room. Don't forget _she's_ under suspicion too."
"As far as I can see, the only person who isn't is Dorothy Keene,daughter of Rita Keene the distinguished comedienne," Terry remarked,successfully maneuvering Sim away from the glass again. "We saw her getoff the train ourselves. You're the only innocent one among us, Dot, butyou don't look it in that swanky dress."
"Do you think we're dressing up too much? We wouldn't want to embarrassGranny Howe," Dorothy considered.
The girls were all in Sim's big blue-and-white bedroom, laughing andtalking as they dressed. It was the afternoon following the "trial byjury." Sim had lately gone "modern," and the room showed it. The wallswere a cream-white edged in dark blue; light fixtures were star shaped,and the twin beds were covered with a dark-blue satin spread with Sim'smonogram in white-satin letters on the fold. It was all glorious.
Fooling around until the last possible minute, they were now making upfor lost time by all hurriedly dressing in Sim's room; getting ready forthe visit to Granny Howe.
After talking it over they had decided that the old lady, though she wasspry and active, might better enjoy the little party if they did put on alittle style and dressed up. So they were wearing soft dresses andhigh-heeled shoes and had put on other dainty accessories.
The day was rather dark, a slate-colored sky promising snow before night,but the balmy air contradicted the warning, and Sim, with the top of theroadster down, urged the girls to hurry. A glance at her watch showedthree-thirty, and their first call should not keep Granny waiting.
They were ready at last and piled in the car, Sim letting the clutch inso fast that the sudden start snapped their heads back and jerked the carforward as though Sim was just learning to drive. They went off in a galeof laughter but not in a cloud of dust, for the frozen ground of thedriveway refused to part with any of its surface.
Sim drove as near as she could to the little white house where HannahHowe lived. The cottage-like place was behind the more stately SycamoreHall and to the left of the lane. The lane was a mere path just tunneledwith trees.
Four small pillars, more like posts, supported the shingled roof of thelow porch, and behind it were two square windows with a door in between.
The girls stood in dignified silence waiting for Granny to answer Arden'sknock, but she didn't keep them long.
"Come in, my dears!" exclaimed the elderly lady like a grandmother in afairy tale. "I'm glad to see you all looking so well and happy."
Granny herself looked well and at least temporarily happy. She wore along-sleeved, high-necked dress, dark-blue color with little pink flowersdotted over it. At her throat, precisely in the middle, glowed withsullen brightness the soft purple of an antique amethyst brooch. Herthick white hair accentuated the smooth tan of her skin, as she smiled awelcome.
The party trooped inside the little old house, and they were at oncestruck by the charm and quaintness of the little place.
With admiring "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" the visitors looked eagerly about, andGranny, pleased with their young enthusiasm, explained and pointed outthe interesting features.
The fireplace, with a pot in place and hooks for holding others, wasespecially fascinating.
"Imagine cooking over an open fire!" exclaimed Sim, "and Mosellecomplains about the oven in our new gas range."
"Years ago the fireplace served a double purpose," Granny explained:"that of heat and a stove. And as someone has said, they were truly theheart of the home. Many a lone winter night Patience Howe sat by thisone, keeping the fire alive, wondering would she ever see her father andbrothers again."
On a low maple table in front of the old Colonial davenport, Granny wasputting out the "best china": thin cups and saucers with a pink wild-rosepattern. With unfeigned interest, Arden watched her dainty movements. Sheseemed as much a part of the place as did the pewter plates on themantel. The little company had settled down to chat with the abruptnessof old friends. After the first greetings were over, they all felt theyhad known this little lady all their lives. But it was Sim who firstbroached the subject uppermost in the minds of all.
"It was Patience who hid the wounded soldier, wasn't it?" she asked,nibbling at a tiny bread-and-butter sandwich.
"Her picture still hangs in the Hall, doesn't it?" Terry inquired,following Sim's lead.
"What a brave girl she must have been," remarked Arden, hoping Grannywould take the cue and tell them about her.
Handing Dorothy a cup of tea and settling herself in a quaint high-backedrocker, the old lady nodded her head and smiled.
"I can see you are all burning with curiosity," she laughed. "Of course,I'll tell you about her, I'm very proud of her, and as you say, my dear,she was indeed very brave." Granny glanced at the girls sitting aroundher, sipping their tea and patiently waiting for her story. Then shebegan:
"In the year when Washington's troops were retreating from New York,Patience refused to leave her home to seek shelter with relatives atPhiladelphia. This was her home: the big house, I mean, of course," sheexplained. "This tiny place was for the servants. But Patience decided tostay and help with the work of the farm; so many of the working men hadjoined the troops. There was plenty of work, and it was bitter cold, too.One day, as the poor, tired army was forced to go still farther backbeyond the advancing British troops, a wounded soldier was carried intothe house. Nathaniel Greene, his name was, and his comrades beggedPatience to take him in and keep him, for he would surely die if made tomarch in the bitter cold. Patience hid him in her own room, disguisedherself as an old servant, and moved out here to live."
"What a--girl!" breathed Arden, as Granny paused a moment.
"Imagine waiting on a wounded soldier," followed up Terry.
"And imagine the danger she was in," concluded Sim.
Granny, gratified that the story of her famous relative should gain somuch honor through her own simple telling, finally continued.
"When the British took possession of the house Patience declared thewounded man was a raving lunatic, and so she kept him out of harm's way.Until spring she hid him successfully, and by that time the soldier andthe maid had fallen in love."
The girls waited while Granny shook her head sorrowfully.
"But he contracted pneumonia and died," she murmured. "Patience nevermarried but gave herself up to her country's cause and became a nurse forwounded soldiers. That was her candle holder; she used it to light herway along a secret passage from the big house to this one."
Granny indicated a pewter candlestick on the mantel between two plates.Their eyes lingered on it lovingly. A moment later Granny went on withher story.
"I have an old letter telling about it, but when the place was remodeledthe passage must have been walled up. Dick and Betty have never been ableto find any trace of it. Although, I dare say, it will come to light whenthe house is torn down." Granny finished her recital and sat lookingstraight before her, her bright eyes dimmed with tears. She sighed andattempted a little smile.
Arden's heart skipped a beat, and a lump rose in her throat.
"Oh, it's monstrous to think that dear old place should come down!" sheexclaimed bitterly. "Can't something be done to save it? Is there no wayof buying it in?"
"I'm afraid we couldn't keep it, even if we could save it," Grannyreplied. "We need the money it would bring. But as it is now, we areunable to prove title to it, and it will go and be forgotten," she sighedpathetically. "I can stay here while I live, they have allowed me that,but Dic
k and Betty will be left homeless when----"
She did not finish that prophecy, but they all knew what she meant, andinstantly they secretly determined to help her some way; how, they didnot know.
But in a flash Sim imagined herself handing the long lost deeds to GrannyHowe and then becoming a heroine. The plot had magic influence on themall.
It was Dorothy who brought them back to the present. "Was it NathanielGreene the workmen thought they saw the other day? But it couldn't havebeen Patience on the bed," she demurred. "Of course, the workmen didn'tknow anything about these war stories."
"There is an old tradition," Granny resumed, "that Nathaniel appears inhis tattered uniform and with his head bandaged whenever the old house,or anyone in it, is in danger.
"Sometimes, so the story goes, and you may believe it or not, as youchoose," Granny smiled whimsically, "the ghost of Patience Howe is seenwandering about the old house. Certainly she would have good reason tocome back here now. Not that _I_ believe in such things," she hurried todeclare, rather unreasonably.
The girls politely agreed, but did not want to interrupt the stirringnarrative. Patience Howe's story was simply fascinating.
"As for the figure on the bed, Patience died there when she was an oldwoman. Her horse fell, breaking his leg, and she was mortally injured.She died in her red cloak there on the old four-poster." A reverent pausefollowed that statement. "But we are becoming too sad. All those thingsare over and done with. Won't you have some more tea, my dear?" Grannyquickly asked, addressing Sim.
"The story holds such strange historic interest," Sim replied, acceptingher second cup of tea. "May we go through the Hall sometime?"
"Whenever you like," Granny consented. "But I advise you to do it soon.That Callahan will have a new batch of workmen here by the end of theweek, and you won't have the house to yourselves after that. I must sayhe is very determined. Don't let those ghost stories frighten you--thehouse is really very interesting, and the door is always open ... toyou," and the hostess included them all with a bright smile and agraceful wave of her gentle hand.
It was almost dark now, and the girls, realizing this, drew themselves upwith a start.
"We want to thank you for a most pleasant afternoon," said Sim smilingly."We must be going now; Moselle will be worried to death, and look--it'sbeginning to snow!"
The first feather-like flakes were floating down to be lost in the brushbelow. Arden sprang up and impulsively kissed the old lady they had allcome to love. She gave Arden a little hug in return, and asked them allto stop and see her whenever they could, declaring she had had awonderful afternoon, herself. Then, gathering their things quickly, theyleft the little white house behind them. As they drove away the merrysnowflakes were making little jabs at their happy, willing faces.
"Oh, wasn't it great!" sighed Arden.
"I feel like a live history of the American Revolution," declared Sim.
"And I feel like the latest authority on military ghosts. But I hated tohave the soldier die before he married Patience," sighed romantic Terry.
"We might even be able to fix that up if we get friendly enough with theghosts," teased Arden, which seemed like a very good idea to all of them.
The Mystery of Jockey Hollow Page 8