Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts

nds and her knitting lie for the moment idle in her lap. "Oh, yes, I have se

t's daughters; and "You, Aunt Emily?

"Well, my dears, I am not quite the coward you take me for. And, as it happens, mine was the most harmle

emale ghosts are the horridest of all. They wear little shoes w

w her feet. Perhaps she was like the Queen of Spain, and hadn't any. And as for the hands, it a

n you know that we're just

ith a small deprecating laug

ry, or t

ot

Miss Le Pet

for though the coombe led down to a wide open beach, it wound and twisted half a dozen times on its way, and its overlapping sides closed the view from the house, which was advertised as 'secluded.' I was very poor

n the country? Well, yes, there are several kinds; but they seem to agree in being odious. No one knows where they come from, though they soon remove all doubt about where they're

r it: afterwards I set it down as an unpleasant feature in the local character. I was doubly mistaken. Farmer Hosking was slow-witted, but as honest a man as ever stood up against hard times; and a more open and hospitable race than the people on that coast I never wish to meet. It was the caution of a child who had burnt his fingers, not once but many times. Had I known what I afterwards learned of Farmer Hosking's tribulations

a housekeeper, a widow-woman, and she'll show you round. With your leave I'll step up the coombe so far with you, and put you in your way.' As I th

hoed dolefully. 'Is t

o be; 'but I had to make it a rule after - after some things that happened. And I dare say you won't find her so bad. Mary Carkeek's a sen

ing, with an apology, strode on ahead to beat aside the brambles. But whenever its width allowed us to walk side by side I caught him from time to time stealing a shy inquisitive glance under his

rompted it, but about halfway up t

no ghosts,

I never heard tell of any ghosts.' He laid a queer sort of stress on the word. 'There's always been trouble with ser

d with his stick. 'It don't look l

verandah ran from end to end. Clematis, Banksia roses and honeysuckle climbed the posts of this verandah, and big blooms of the Marechal Niel were clustered along its roof, beneath the lattices of the bedroom windows. The house was

the farmer's description of her. She was a comfortable woman; and while we walked through the rooms together (for Mr. Hosking waited outside) I 'took to' Mrs. Carkeek. Her speech was direct and practical; the rooms, in spite of their faded furniture, we

mer Hosking pocketed the pruning-knife wh

an anything I had d

wise way of beginning a bar

haise waited to convey me back to the market town. I had meant to engage a maid of my own, but now it occurred to me that I might do ver

moderately young, entirely healthy; I felt myself independent and adventurous; the season was high summer, the weather glorious, the garden in all the pomp of June, yet sufficiently unkempt to keep me busy, give me a sharp appet

d even when I addressed her seemed at times unable to give me her attention. It was as though her mind strayed off to some small job she had forgotten, and her eyes wore a listenin

wl upon the dining-table, sure enough at the next meal they would be replaced by fresh ones. Mrs. Carkeek (I told myself) must have surprised and interpreted a glance of mine. And yet I could not remember having glanced at the bowl in her presence. And how on earth had she guessed

a-bed. For once, finding the drawing-room (where I had been sitting late) 'redded up' at four in the morning, and no trace of a plate of raspberries which I had carried thither after dinner and left overnight, I determined to test her, and walked through to the kitchen, calling her by

ur morning's work over night. But you mustn't wait for me when I choose to sit up. A

in the dawn. Her f

d, 'I made sure you mu

wered, 'but it was neit

grey bedroom - which faced the north. And I took this for a care

ater I began

you found two others right and left, the left opening on the kitchen, the right on a passage which ran by a store-cupboard under the bend of the stairs to a neat pantry with the usual shelves and linen-press, and under the window (which faced north) a porcelain basin and

f roses, and carried them into the pantry as a handy place to arrange them in. I

g with this tap?' I asked. 'The rest

ow, miss. I

ance washing up the plate and glasses in the kitchen. Come arou

ight, miss. I assure you I

hen garden, and from its lower path we looked over the wall's parapet upon the cisterns. There were two - a very large one, supplying the kitchen and the bathroom above the kitchen; and a small one

. 'The pipe between the two is choke

ly cold water, and no use to me. From th

. Carkeek, who had grown suddenly red in the face. Her eyes were fixed on the cork in my hand. To keep it more firmly wedged in its place somebody had wrapped it round with a rag of calico print; and, discolo

I felt disappointed in her. It seemed such a paltry thing to be disingenuous over. She had deliberately acted a fib before me; and why? Merely because she preferred

all sound disturbed me. I listened. The sound was clearly that of water trickling; and I set it down to rain. A shower (I told myself) had filled the water-p

slope of the coombe, the distant plash of waves, and the fragrance of many roses. I went back to bed and listened again. Yes, the trickling sound continued, quite distinct in the silence of the house

ning,' said I: and, sure enough, I found it so - a thin trickle steadily running to waste

g again. Now it had shut easily in my hand, but not so easily that I could believe it had slipped open aga

again. At the pantry door I paused. I was not afraid - not one little bit. In fact the notion that anything might be wrong had never crossed

might have sent me scurrying upstairs two steps at a time, but which as a matter of fact held me to the spot. My heart seemed t

beneath the water trickling

ands, a child's hands. I ca

ng themselves clean. I saw the water trickle and splash over them - not through them - but just as it would on real hands. They were the hands of a little gir

nest of drawers. After the crash, in the darkness there, with the water running, I suffered some bad moments. Oddly enough, the thought uppermost with me was that I must shut of

my bath, dressed and went downstairs. And there at the pantry door

I, 'you pi

wished me to begin, and I determin

That's what accounts for yo

? . . .'

me all about it - never mind

, whatever put such h

washing

murder! And dear little Miss Marga

s Mar

and that's over twenty year ago. I was her nurse, miss, and

you know it

w could I mistake, that

does she w

ys a dainty child - and

hat all this tidying and dusting -' I broke off.

ek met my l

else,

littl

t like this. For there isn't really nothing to be afraid of - is there?' She eyed me wistfully. 'It

hers?' I

ants, miss: the

e the

l you? They carried on fearful - one after

e matter with

about the coombe in his nightshirt. Oh, scandalous! And his wife drank too - that is, if s

hive

s a pair here - from the colonies, or so they gave out - with t

what ha

've been told, away back in the high-road, and that's the best part of half a mile. Sometimes they was locked up without food for days to

lf when these awful people were here

ns. She've been here all the while: and only to think what her innocent eyes and

f I'm to have any peace

e leaving her to - what sort of tenant might come next. For she can't go. She've b

but all of a sudden I felt

I, 'there's nothi

night as regular as clockwork, and the floors sanded, and the pots and pans scoured, and all while the maids slept. They put it down to the piskies; but we

, 'there's only one con

t's t

you let me

this was as close to familiarity as she allowed herself

completely wrapped around with love as we were during those three years. It ran through my waking life like a song: it smoothed my pillow, tou

rought me word that he had sold the house - or was about to sell it; I forget which. There was

ied man?

children as ever you see, and the mother a go

t is why you fee

hat he offers. You mustn't

you, Mr. Hosking; but you

ent lacked nothing of absolute perfection - e

happy,' I said; 'with

l be happy, sure enough

ut on the last morning, when they stood corded in the hall, I sent Mrs.

et!' I w

hope for one. Yet I tried again, and, shutting my e

rgar

wo little hands stole and rested - for a