The Ghost Girl Part 38

"Nothing. She had nothing to say. She asked why I wanted to break it off."

"And you told her it was because of her conduct, I hope."

"No. I told her it was because I had come to care for some one else."

Miss Pinckney said nothing for a moment. Then she looked at him.

"Richard, do you care for Phyl?"

"Yes."

"Thank G.o.d," said she.

The one supreme wish of her life had been granted to her. Her gaze wandered to the glimpse of garden visible through the open window and rested there. She was old, she had seen friend and relative fade and vanish, the Mascarenes, the Pinckneys, children, old people, all had become part of that mystery, the past. Richard alone remained to her, and Phyl. On the morning of Phyl's arrival Miss Pinckney had felt just as though some door had opened to let this visitor in from the world of long ago. It was not only her likeness to Juliet Mascarene, but all the a.s.sociations that likeness brought with it. Vernons became alive again, as in the good old days. Charleston itself caught some tinge of its youth.

And there was more than that.

"Richard," said she, coming back from her fit of abstraction, "I will tell you something I'd never have spoken of if you didn't care for her. It may be an old woman's fancy, but Phyl is more to us, seems to me, than we think, she's Juliet come back--Oh, it's more than the likeness. I'm sure I can't explain what I mean, it's just she herself that's the same. There's a lot more to a person than a face and a figure. I know it sounds absurd, so would most things if we had never heard them before. What's more absurd than to be born, and look at that b.u.t.terfly, what's more absurd than to tell me that yesterday it was a worm? Well, it doesn't much matter whether she was Juliet or not, now she's going to be yours, and to save you from that pasty--no matter she's over and done with, but I reckon she's laughing on the wrong side of her face this morning."

Miss Pinckney rose from the table. The absence of Phyl did not disturb her. Phyl sometimes stayed out and forgot meals, though this was the first time she had been late for breakfast. Richard, who had business to transact that morning in the town looked at his watch.

"I'm going to Philips', the lawyers," said he, "and then I'll look in at the club. I'll be back to luncheon."

An hour later to Miss Pinckney engaged in dusting the drawing-room appeared Rachel the cook.

Rachel was the most privileged of the servants, a trustworthy woman with a character and will of her own, and absolutely devoted to the interests of the house.

"Mistress Pinckney," said the coloured woman closing the door. "Ole Colonel Grangerson's coachman's in de kitchen, an' he says Miss Phyl's been an' run off with young Silas Grangerson dis very mornin'."

Miss Pinckney without dropping the duster stood silent for a moment before Rachel. Then she broke out.

"Miss Phyl run off with young Silas Grangerson! What on earth are you talking about, what rubbish is this, who's dared to come here talking such nonsense? Go on--what more have you to say?"

Rachel had a lot to say.

Phyl had met Silas on the road beyond the town. They had talked together, then Silas had sent the groom back to Charleston to return to Grangerville by train, and had driven off with Phyl. The groom, a relation of Dinah's, having some three hours to wait for a train, had dropped into Vernons to pa.s.s the time and tell the good news. He was in the kitchen now.

Miss Pinckney could not but believe. She threw the duster on a chair, left the room and went to the kitchen.

Prue was still in her corner by the fireplace, and Colonel Grangerson's coloured man was seated at the table finishing a meal and talking to Dinah who scuttled away as he rose up before the apparition of Miss Pinckney.

"What's all this nonsense you have been talking," said she, "coming here saying Miss Phyl has run away with Mr. Silas? She started out this morning to meet him and drive to Grangersons; I'm going there myself at eleven--and you come here talking of people running away. Do you know you could be put in prison for saying things like that? You _dare_ to say it again to any one and I'll have you taken off before you're an hour older, you black imp of mischief."

There was a rolling pin on the table, and half unconsciously her hand closed on it. Colonel Grangerson's man, grey and clutching at his hat, did not wait for the sequel, he bolted.

Then the unfortunate woman, nearly fainting, but supported by her grand common sense and her invincible nature, left the kitchen and, followed by Rachel, went to the library. Here she sat down for a moment to collect herself whilst Rachel stood watching her and waiting.

"It is so and it's not so," said she at last, talking half to herself half to the woman. "It's some trick of Silas Grangerson's. But the main thing is no one must know. We have got to get her back. No one must know--Rachel, go and find Seth and send him off at once to the garage place and tell them to let me have an automobile at once, at once, mind you. Tell them I want the quickest one they've got for a long journey."

Rachel went off and Miss Pinckney left to herself went down on her knees by the big settee adjoining the writing table and began to wrestle with the situation in prayer. Miss Pinckney was not overgiven to prayer. She held that worriting the Almighty eternally about all sorts of nonsense, as some people do who pray for "direction" and weather, etc., was bad form to say the least of it. She even went further than that, and held that praising him inordinately was out of place and out of taste. Saying that, if Seth or Dinah came singing praises at her bedroom door in the morning instead of getting on with their work, she would know exactly what it meant--Laziness or concealed broken china, or both.

But in moments of supreme stress and difficulty, Miss Pinckney was a believer in prayer. Her prayer now was speechless, one might compare it to a mental wrestle with the abominable situation before G.o.d.

When she rose from her knees everything was clear to her. Two things were evident. Phyl must be got back at any cost, and scandal must be choked, even if it had to be choked with solid lies.

To save Phyl's reputation, Miss Pinckney would have perjured herself twice over.

Miss Pinckney had many faults and limitations, but she had the grand common sense of a clean heart and a clear mind. She could tell a lie with a good conscience in a good cause, but to hide even a small fault of her own, the threat of death on the scaffold would not have made her tell a lie.

She went to the writing table now and taking a sheet of paper, wrote:

_Dear Richard,_

Seth Grangerson is bad again, and I am going over there now with Phyl. We mayn't be back to-night. I am taking the automobile. We will be back to-morrow most likely.

Your affectionate Aunt, Maria Pinckney.

She read the note over. If all went well then everything would be well. If the worst occurred then she could explain everything to Richard.

It was a desperate gamble; well she knew how the dice were loaded against her, but the game had to be played out to the very last moment.

Already she had stopped the mouth of slander by her prompt action with Colonel Grangerson's coloured man, but she well knew how coloured servants talk; Grangerson's man was safe enough, he was frightened and he would have to get back to Grangerville. Rachel was absolutely safe, Dinah alone was doubtful.

She called Rachel in, gave her the note for Richard and told her to keep a close eye on Dinah.

"Don't let her get talking to any one," said Miss Pinckney, "and when Mr.

Richard comes in give him that note yourself. If he asks about Miss Phyl, say she came back and went with me. You understand, Rachel, Miss Phyl has done a foolish thing, but there's no harm in it, only what fools will make of it if they get chattering. No one must know, not even Mr. Richard."

"I'll see to that, Miss Pinckney, an' if I catch Dinah openin' her mouth to say more'n 'potatoes' I'll dress her down so's she won't know which end of her's which."

Miss Pinckney went upstairs, dressed hurriedly, packed a few things in a bag and the automobile being now at the door, started.

It was after one o'clock when she reached Grangersons.

Just as on the day when she had arrived with Phyl, Colonel Grangerson, hearing the noise of the car, came out to inspect.

He came down the steps, hat in hand, saw the occupant, started back, and then advanced to open the door.

"Why, G.o.d bless my soul, it's you," cried the Colonel. "What has happened?"

Miss Pinckney without a word got out and went up the steps with him.

In the hall she turned to him.

"Where is Silas?"

"Silas," replied the Colonel. "I haven't seen him since he went to Charleston to attend some dance or another. What on earth is the matter with you, Maria?"

"Come in here," said Miss Pinckney. She went into the drawing room and they shut the door.