VI
A SOMBRE EVENING
The evening, like the afternoon, was spent in the sitting-room with oneof the sisters. One event alone is worth recording. I had becomeexcessively tired of a conversation that always languished, no matter onwhat topic it started, and, observing an old piano in one corner--I onceplayed very well--I sat down before it and impulsively struck a fewchords from the yellow keys. Instantly Lucetta--it was Lucetta who waswith me then--bounded to my side with a look of horror.
"Don't do that!" she cried, laying her hand on mine to stop me. Then,seeing my look of dignified astonishment, she added with an appealingsmile, "I beg pardon, but every sound goes through me to-night."
"Are you not well?" I asked.
"I am never very well," she returned, and we went back to the sofa andrenewed our forced and pitiful attempts at conversation.
Promptly at nine o'clock Miss Knollys came in. She was very pale andcast, as usual, a sad and uneasy look at her sister before she spoke tome. Immediately Lucetta rose, and, becoming very pale herself, washurrying toward the door when her sister stopped her.
"You have forgotten," she said, "to say good-night to our guest."
Instantly Lucetta turned, and, with a sudden, uncontrollable impulse,seized my hand and pressed it convulsively.
"Good-night," she cried. "I hope you will sleep well," and was gonebefore I could say a word in response.
"Why does Lucetta go out of the room when you come in?" I asked,determined to know the reason for this peculiar conduct. "Have you anyother guests in the house?"
The reply came with unexpected vehemence. "No," she cried, "why shouldyou think so? There is no one here but the family." And she turned awaywith a dignity she must have inherited from her father, for AltheaBurroughs had every interesting quality but that. "You must be verytired," she remarked. "If you please we will go now to your room."
I rose at once, glad of the prospect of seeing the upper portion of thehouse. She took my wraps on her arm, and we passed immediately into thehall. As we did so, I heard voices, one of them shrill and full ofdistress; but the sound was so quickly smothered by a closing door thatI failed to discover whether this tone of suffering proceeded from a manor a woman.
Miss Knollys, who was preceding me, glanced back in some alarm, but as Igave no token of having noticed anything out of the ordinary, shespeedily resumed her way up-stairs. As the sounds I had heard proceededfrom above, I followed her with alacrity, but felt my enthusiasmdiminish somewhat when I found myself passing door after door down along hall to a room as remote as possible from what seemed to be theliving portion of the house.
"Is it necessary to put me off quite so far?" I asked, as my younghostess paused and waited for me to join her on the threshold of themost forbidding room it had ever been my fortune to enter.
The blush which mounted to her brow showed that she felt the situationkeenly.
"I am sure," she said, "that it is a matter of great regret to me to beobliged to offer you so mean a lodging, but all our other rooms are outof order, and I cannot accommodate you with anything better to-night."
"But isn't there some spot nearer you?" I urged. "A couch in the sameroom with you would be more acceptable to me than this distant room."
"I--I hope you are not timid," she began, but I hastened to disabuse hermind on this score.
"I am not afraid of any earthly thing but dogs," I protested warmly."But I do not like solitude. I came here for companionship, my dear. Ireally would like to sleep with one of you."
This, to see how she would meet such urgency. She met it, as I mighthave known she would, by a rebuff.
"I am very sorry," she again repeated, "but it is quite impossible. If Icould give you the comforts you are accustomed to, I should be glad, butwe are unfortunate, we girls, and--" She said no more, but began to busyherself about the room, which held but one object that had the leastlook of comfort in it. That was my trunk, which had been neatly placedin one corner.
"I suppose you are not used to candles," she remarked, lighting whatstruck me as a very short end, from the one she held in her hand.
"My dear," said I, "I can accommodate myself to much that I am not usedto. I have very few old maid's ways or notions. You shall see that I amfar from being a difficult guest."
She heaved a sigh, and then, seeing my eye travelling slowly over thegray discolored walls which were not relieved by so much as a solitaryprint, she pointed to a bell-rope near the head of the bed, andconsiderately remarked:
"If you wish anything in the night, or are disturbed in any way, pullthat. It communicates with my room, and I will be only too glad to cometo you."
I glanced up at the rope, ran my eye along the wire communicating withit, and saw that it was broken sheer off before it even entered into thewall.
"I am afraid you will not hear me," I answered, pointing to the break.
She flushed a deep scarlet, and for a moment looked as embarrassed asever her sister had done.
"I did not know," she murmured. "The house is so old, everything is moreor less out of repair." And she made haste to quit the room.
I stepped after her in grim determination.
"But there is no key to the door," I objected.
She came back with a look that was as nearly desperate as her placidfeatures were capable of.
"I know," she said, "I know. We have nothing. But if you are notafraid--and of what could you be afraid in this house, under ourprotection, and with a good dog outside?--you will bear with thingsto-night, and--Good God!" she murmured, but not so low but that myexcited sense caught every syllable, "can she have heard? Has thereputation of this place gone abroad? Miss Butterworth," she repeatedearnestly, "the house contains no cause of terror for you. Nothingthreatens our guest, nor need you have the least concern for yourself orus, whether the night passes in quiet or whether it is broken byunaccountable sounds. They will have no reference to anything in whichyou are interested."
"Ah, ha," thought I, "won't they! You give me credit for muchindifference, my dear." But I said nothing beyond a few soothingphrases, which I made purposely short, seeing that every moment Idetained her was just so much unnecessary torture to her. Then I wentback to my room and carefully closed the door. My first night in thisdismal and strangely ordered house had opened anything but propitiously.
Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth Page 7