Zula Part 38

"Well, that beats me to think of you doing carpenter work."

"That is but a few minutes' work."

"Yes; but just think, it's a man's work."

"Never mind, it is a small job."

"And jest look, there's three or four lights o' gla.s.s out in the parlor, and two or three out in the settin' room."

"It is no great job to replace them."

"But jest think, they ain't a man around the house to do it."

"We do not want a man around; I shall do the work myself."

"There's a piece o' board broke out o' the kitchen floor too."

"A few moments' work will repair that."

"But you hain't got hammer and nails, and you couldn't do it if you had."

"Couldn't I? Do you think I have not sense enough to drive a nail?"

"But you'll pound your fingers."

"Why, no; I shall strike the nail."

"But you haven't any board to fit the place."

"A little sawing will make one fit."

"But you hain't any saw nor hammer nor nails."

"Yes, I have; I brought enough of such articles to answer every purpose."

"You don't say! Why, how did you know you could use 'em when you got here?"

"I knew I could try."

"But the house needs an awful lot o' repairin', and it needs paintin'

from top to bottom."

"We shall not stay here long, and a few repairs will answer."

CHAPTER XXVII.

INSANE BESSIE.

Blanche Elsworth was seated in her sanctum, as she called her room. It was neatly papered, and carpeted, and withal presented a very homelike appearance.

Her pen was flying rapidly over the white paper, and her thoughts were far away from the surrounding scenes, when she was called back to real life by a wild silvery laugh, and a shrill scream in which she recognized the voice of Mrs. Morris.

"Well, upon my soul," said she, as she opened the door without as much as a rap, and appearing with a white, scared face; "you jest oughter come downstairs."

"What is the matter?" Miss Elsworth asked, in alarm.

"Oh, I've seen a ghost, as sure as the world, and if you don't believe it you can come down and see for yourself."

Miss Elsworth arose and followed Mrs. Morris downstairs.

"You'll have to go ahead, for I jest can't get up the pluck to go myself," said Mrs. Morris as they reached the foot of the stairs.

Miss Elsworth opened the outer door, as she stepped into the hall.

Then she went to the sitting-room, and into the kitchen, and finally the entire house was searched. Mrs. Morris following close to her at every step.

"Oh, I know I seen one," said Mrs. Morris.

"It must have been your imagination, for there certainly is nothing to be seen."

"Well, I know there was one."

"How did it look, was it large or small, a man, woman or child?"

"Oh, I don't know; I was so scared that I didn't stop to see. I jest see the flutter of something white, and the strangest laugh that ever you heard."

"Yes, I heard the laugh myself, but it must have been some one belonging to the farm."

"Well, I jest don't know what to do; it don't seem to me that I can stay down here to cook the dinner. I shall jest shake from head to foot. Why, I never was so scared in all my life."

Miss Elsworth smiled at Mrs. Morris's foolishness, and after a moment's reflection, she said:

"If you are so badly frightened I will remain downstairs until after dinner, and keep watch around while you are at work."

"Oh, dear, I'll be a thousand times obliged to you if you will."

Miss Elsworth pa.s.sed the morning in looking about the house, and wandering through the old garden, where the flowers and weeds grew so closely together.

One day after another pa.s.sed, and nothing had been seen or heard to cause further alarm. She partially convinced Mrs. Morris that her ghost was either the outgrowth of a vivid imagination, or that it was some person trying to frighten her.

The Misses Graves had become frequent visitors at Miss Elsworth's.

They were friendly, sociable girls, of the age of thirty-three and thirty-five respectively. Eliza, the elder of the two, was a very quiet, industrious girl, very reserved and lady-like in manner.

Eunice, although in every respect a lady, was a little more talkative, and apparently of a happier disposition.

Their brother, Rosswell, or Ross, as he was commonly called, was a fine specimen of robust manhood. His form and features were fine, and his manner prepossessing. He commanded the utmost respect, especially among the pupils of the village school, where he had taught five successive winters. Not that he was really compelled to labor unceasingly, but it was his choice to devote his leisure time to some useful occupation, so his summers were spent on the farm, and his winters in school. Mrs. Graves was a fair, little woman, with a pleasant smile, though the lines across her forehead told plainly that all had not been sunshine. She soon grew to be a favorite with Miss Elsworth, and Mrs. Morris declared "there never was such a dear little woman ever lived. She was always sending 'em down b.u.t.ter and eggs, and never would take a cent for any of 'em, and often she would bring her sewin' and sit with her, and she knew it was only 'cause she was sorry for her."