Wandering Ghosts

ented of it, and I never shall. I have long ago understood that I was out of my mind that evening, but I think my temporary insanity on that

nimity could bear, and I lost my head as well as my heart. But when I went back to England in the spring, I went to make certain arrangements at the Castle-cert

just as of old. But there was something else there, too-something in the air, in the water, and in the greenness that I did not recognise-a light over everything by which everything was transfigured. The clock in the tower struck seven, and the strokes of the ancient bell sounded like a wedding chime. The air sang with the thrilling treble of the song-birds, with the silvery music of the plashing water, and the softer harmony of the leaves stirred by the fre

nk as I used to think, if only to satisfy myself that I had not lost my individuality. But I succeeded in none of these efforts. I was a different man, a changed being, incapable of sorrow, of ill-luck, or of sadness. My life had been a dream, not evil, but infinitely gloomy and hopeless. It was now a reality, full of hope, gladness, and all manner of good. My home had been like a tomb; to-

n the logs burn high, and the holly berries are red, and the old clock tolls out the dying year. On these old steps, in these dark passages and stately rooms, there will one day be the sound of little pattering feet, and laughing child-voices will ring up to the vaults of the ancient hall. Those tiny footsteps shall not be slow and sa

it all seemed more real than ever before, and much nearer. But the old nurse looked at me askance, and m

e Castle afterwards. We cared little for travelling, and not at all for a crowded ceremony at St. George's in Hanover Square, with all the tiresome formalities afterwards. I used to ride over to the Grange every day, a

ve over with some of the Bluebell party. In the long summer twilight we all went out into the garden

aid; "it was on this very night

, with a laugh, "and that we have been here almost every day,

o-day, and a year from that. The odd thing, when I think of it, is that you should be here at all. But my luc

rmance of yours in Paris," said Margaret. "Do you know, I

want to lose any time in frivolities. I took you at your word, I followed your adv

s coming up the path, and was close to us before we saw her, for the moon had ri

d. Then I spoke to the Welshwoman: "What are you about,

muttered the old creature, drawing aside to let us

?" asked Margaret,

ld thing is mildly crazy

he water ran out into the park, dark and swift in its narrow channel. We stopped, and leaned on the wooden rail. The mo

e of such a grand old pla

ave as good a right to love it as I-but I only

k began to strike far off in the tower. I counted the strokes-eight-nine-ten-el

still air. We leaned over the rail, instinctively looking in the direction whence the sound came. On and on it went. I counted

cry and a heavy splash, and I was alone, clinging

, striking my head and hands against jagged stones and sharp corners, clutching at last something in my fingers, and dragging it up with all my might. I spoke, I cried aloud, but there was no answer. I was alone in the pitchy blackness with my burden, and the house was

e face. The old woman must have turned back and followed us, seen the accident, and slipped out by the lower gate of

emples, and gazing wildly into the wide-staring eyes. I remember only the first returning look of cons

grotto, and Margaret and I stood on it, and looked up at the moonlit Castle, as we had done once before, and as we have done many times since. For all those things happened ten years ago last summer, and this is the tenth Christmas Eve we have spent together by the roaring logs in the old hall,

s gone. Perhaps, too, some sad-faced, listless, melancholy youth, who feels that the world is very hollow, and that life is like a perpetual funeral service, just as I used to feel myself, may take courage from my example, and having found the woman of his heart, ask her to marry him after half an hour'

e cold glass window-panes in winter; and as their warm breath crystallises into landscapes from fairyland, full of exquisite shapes and traceries upon the blank surface, so her spirit has transformed every grey stone of the old towers, every ancient tree and hedge in the gardens, every thought in my once melancholy s

have been said before now by many, and perhaps you say yours, too. I do not think they lose anything by being repeated, nor you by repeating them. You say that the world is

OLL'S

OLL'S

maids on the grand staircase, and those who remember the facts most exactly assert that Mrs. Pringle herself positively stood upon the landing. Mrs. Pringle was the housekeeper. As for the head nurse, the under nurse, and the nursery maid, their feelings cannot be described. The head nurse laid one h

f Cranston, and aged six years and three months, picked herself up quite alone, an

he butler, and he

ooms of the chambers,

ringle was distinctly heard t

upstairs that they had allowed the Lady Gwendolen Lancaster-Douglas-Scroop to tumble down the grand staircase with her doll in her arms. And as the doll was badly broken, the nursery-maid carried it, with the pieces, wrapped up in Lady Gwendol

d her to go downstairs alone with Nina, the doll, under one arm, while she steadied herself with her other hand on the balus

tiful doll, very large, and fair, and healthy, with real yellow hair, and eyelids that would open and shut over very grown-up dark eye

aid the under nurse, who heard everythi

t the step," said the head nurse. "She'll s

ss, from the upper corner of the forehead, with a hideous gash, through the nose and down to the little frilled co

an speak at all, being all sm

kler," said her superior. "It's not

a hole in the ground with a little spad

" enquired the nurse

in' her a grave," replied

ife again all right,"

with very long legs and a very small cap, happened to be there; and as he had no

mended dolls of all sizes and ages, boy dolls and girl dolls, baby dolls in long clothes, and grown-up dolls in fashionable gowns, talking dolls and dumb dolls, those that shut their eyes when they lay down, and those whose eyes had to be shut for them by me

eat many foreigners. He still had one or two German friends, however, who came on Saturday evenings, and smoked with him and pl

les. As for Else, she was a thin, pale child, very quiet and neat, with dark eyes and brown hair that was plaited down her back and ti

on the street, and the workshop was at the back, and there were three rooms upstairs. But the father and da

hard to part with them when they had smiled at him for a few days. They were real little people to him, with characters and thoughts and feelings of their own, and he was very tender with them all. But some attracted him especially f

lse. "You must be gentle with them. It costs nothing to be kind

e was a child, and she knew that sh

n the world, for her complexion was perfect, her hair was smooth where it should be smooth, and curly where it should be curly, and her silk clothes were perfectly new. But across her face was that frightful gash, like a sabre-cut, deep and shadowy with

"But I shall not hurt you much, though

em, and told him. He liked "Nina" for a name. Altogether and in every way she pleased him more than any doll he had seen for many year

, the more fond he became of the yellow hair and the beautiful brown glass eyes. He sometimes forgot all the other dolls that were waiting to be mended, lying side by side o

ight across the face, downwards from right to left. Yet all the conditions had been most favourable for a cure, since the cement h

under nurse had already come twice to see whether

ler had answered each time, for he could

ing for her, he thought. He must put her into it, and lay tissue paper over her dear face, and then put on the lid, and at the thought of tying the string his sight was dim with tea

his small tools lay there, neatly arranged in a row, but he knew that he could not use them again for Nina. She was quite strong at last, and in a country where there should be no cruel childr

quite full, and he rose abruptl

u must do it for me. I cannot b

with his back turned, while Else

away, my dear. Put on your hat, and take her to Cranston

e dolls, and though she had never seen him so mu

latch. "It is growing late, and I should not send you at t

he child to come back. He touched the place where Nina had lain, very gently, and he recalled the soft

alf, and that was much longer than he had expected, for it was barely half a mile from Belgrave Square to Cranston House. He reflected that the child might have been kept wa

liness and a faint stirring of his thin hair, joined with a wish to be in a

dusk. He knew just where they should be, for he always kept them in the same place, close to the little tin box that held

be allayed if he could get a light and see what time it was. Then he called himself a foolish old

nd he could go and get matches out of the cupboard afterwards. He stood back from

t was nothing, and he was a foolish old man. He made two steps more, and he was sure that he heard the little pattering again. He turned his back to the window, lea

sked, and he was surprise

s he could see, it was within two or three minutes of ten o'clock. He had been a long time alone. He was shocked, and frightened for Else, out in Lond

d feebly, just as h

air. He could see the pavement clearly under his feet, and far off in the street to which the alley led he could hear the laughter and calls of children, playing some game out of doors. He wondered how he could have been so nervous, and for an instant he thought of going back into the house

ever there was no other sound, for the tiny footsteps. But he heard nothing, and was laughing a

or it was a back door, but affected the manners of the front,

n seen, and he knew "n

ulously, for all his anxiety was returning ten

ood reason why;" and Mr. Puckler was obliged to admit that the man ought to know, as it was his business to keep the door and let people in

self by the railing, for he felt as though he were breaking i

s, following every highway and byway which his little girl might have taken on her errand. He also asked several policemen in vain if they had seen he

earted. As he turned the key in the lock, his heart stood still, for he knew that he was awake and not drea

ular pain, that found its way all through him with every pulse. So he went in, and hung up his hat

before the work-table and almost fainted, as his face dropped forward upon his folded ha

contrary, the very sound of the name was a new and sharp pain that pierced his ears and his head and his very soul. Fo

the skirt of his old coat, so gently that it was like the nibbling of a tiny

groaned right a

oing to blow it out, but just dropping down as if it were tired out. Mr. Puckler felt his hands stiffening with fright under his face; and there was a faint

with a break bet

air fell over backwards with a smashing noise upo

was something more in it, a little human ring, with a pitiful cry and a call for help, and the wail of a hurt child. Mr. Puck

e, and the room seemed quite dark at first. Then he saw something. He would not have believed that he could be more frightened than he had been just before that. But he was, and his knees shook, for he saw the doll standing in the middle o

Else's own, but as if only the doll saw him through them, and not Else. And the

tle Else!" he

doll-arm slowly rose and fell w

a," i

ng somewhere between the wooden notes that reached his ears so di

m, but his knees did not shake any more,

e? Where?" he asked.

a-

owly away, and Mr. Puckler heard the pitter-patter of the small feet in the bronze kid slippers as the figur

The candle burned brightly now. There were the dolls to be mended, lying in a row with their toes up. The third one had lost her right shoe, and Else was making one. He knew that, and he was certainly not dreaming now. He had not been dreamin

was a foolish old man. He ought to be out in the streets looking for his child, asking questions, and enquiri

a-

ler stood for an instant with white face, transfixed and rooted to the spot. A moment later his hand

at once that it had not come to frighten him but to lead him, and when it disappeared, and he walked boldly towards the door, he knew that it was in the street outside, wa

n its little Mother Hubbard frock of silk; and sometimes, where the streets were dark and silent, the whole figure shone out brightly, with its yellow curls and rosy neck. It seemed to trot along like a tiny child, and Mr. Puckler could almost hear the pattering of th

e he was. He did not even care, for he kne

re a big, sober-looking door that had two lamps on each sid

s the little shadow, and the pale green sheen of the little silk dress,

a-

rown glass eyes were turned up happily to his, while the rosy mouth smiled s

"I think they thought she was only stunned. She was holding a big brown-paper box against her, and they

said Mr. Puckler, but he

children's ward, and when he had stood there a minut

se, softly, "I kn

ror and despair that had almost killed him that night. But by and by Else was telling her story, and the nurse

fought as well as I could till one of them hit me with something, and I don't remember any more, for I tum

take it out of her arms till she came to hersel

pieces. Only the gentle light of the children's ward made a p