Silverthorns

by Mrs. Molesworth

little scream.

  "Jerry, don't. How can you, Jerry?"

  "What's the matter?" asked Mr Waldron.

  "He pinched me, papa, quite sharply, under my cloak," said Charlotte, alittle ashamed of her excitement. "Jerry, how can you be so babyish?"

  "I didn't mean to hurt you," said Jerry penitently. "It was only--whenpapa said that--I thought--there's another thing."

  "Has the moonlight affected your brain, Jerry?" asked his father.

  "No, papa; Charlotte understands. I thought perhaps she'd rather Ididn't say it right out. It makes three things, you see--being stupid--and _perhaps_ the haunted room and Lady Mildred being horrid to her.You see, Charlotte?"

  But Mr Waldron's face--what they could see of it, that is to say, forthe clouds seemed to be reassembling in obedience to some invisiblesummons, and a thick dark one, just at that moment, was beginning toveil the moon's fair disc--expressed unmitigated bewilderment.

  "He means what we were talking about this afternoon, papa. Jerry, youare too silly to tell it in that muddled way," said Charlotte, laughingin spite of her irritation. "I said it seemed as if that girl had_everything_, and Jerry thinks nobody has. He said perhaps she's notvery clever, and it's true one _kind_ of pretty people are generallyrather dull; and perhaps there's a haunted room at Silverthorns, and shemay be frightened at night; and now he means that perhaps Lady Mildredisn't really very kind. But they're all perhapses."

  "One isn't," said Mr Waldron. "There is a haunted room atSilverthorns--that, I have always known. If the poor girl is nervous,let us hope she doesn't sleep near it! As to her being `dull'--no, Idoubt it. She hasn't the kind of large, heavy, striking beauty whichgoes with dullness."

  "Papa, you have seen her," exclaimed Charlotte in great excitement."And you didn't tell us."

  "You didn't give me time, truly and really, Charlotte."

  "And what is she like? Oh, papa, do tell me."

  "I only saw her for an instant. Her aunt sent her out of the room. Shedid seem to me very pretty, slight, and not _very_ tall, with a facewhose actual beauty was thrown into the shade by its extremely winningand bright and varying expression. All that, I saw, but that was all."

  "Is she fair or dark?" asked Charlotte. "You must have seen that."

  "Fair, of course. You know my beauties are always fair. That is why Iam so disappointed in you, poor Gipsy," said Mr Waldron teasingly.

  But Charlotte did not laugh as she would usually have done.

  "Charlotte," said Jerry reprovingly, "of course papa's in fun. Mamma isdarker than you."

  "I don't need you to tell me that papa's in fun," said Charlottesnappishly. "Besides, mamma isn't dark, except her hair and eyes--herskin is lovelily white. There's nothing fair about me, except my stupidlight-blue eyes."

  "My blue-eyed gipsy," said her father, using a pet name that had beenhers as a baby.

  "Dear papa," said Charlotte; and the sharpness had all gone out of hervoice.

  They were almost at home by now. There had not been much temptation tolook about them in returning, for the clouds were getting the best ofit, and the moon had taken offence and was hiding her face.

  "My little girl," whispered her father, as he lifted her down, "bewareof the first peep through the green-coloured spectacles."

  "Papa!" said Charlotte, half reproachfully.

  But I think she understood.

  "Jerry," she said, as her brother and she stood waiting at the door,their father having driven round to the stables, "just compare thisdoor, this house, with Silverthorns."

  "What's the good?" said Jerry.

  CHAPTER THREE.

  A FAMILY PARTY.

  A hearty but somewhat unnecessarily noisy welcome awaited them. Arthur,Ted, and Noble were all in the drawing-room with their mother. She hadinsisted on the muddy boots being discarded, but beyond this, as theboys were tired, and it was late when they came in, she had not heldout; and Charlotte glanced at the rough coats and lounging-aboutattitudes with a feeling of annoyance, which it was well "the boys" didnot see. "Mamma" herself was always a pleasant object to look upon,even in her old black grenadine; _she_, thought Charlotte, with a throbof pride, could not seem out of place in the most beautiful of theSilverthorns' drawing-rooms. But the boys--how can they be so rough andmessy? thought the fastidious little sister.

  "It is all with being poor--all," she said to herself.

  But she felt ashamed when Arthur drew forward the most comfortable chairfor her to the fire, and Ted offered to carry her hat and jacketup-stairs for her.

  "No, thank you," she said. "I'll run up-stairs, and be down again in aminute. It's messy to take one's things off in the drawing-room," andso saying, she jumped up and ran away.

  "What a fuss Charlotte always makes about being messy, as she calls it,"said Ted. "She's a regular old maid."

  "Come, Ted, that's not fair. It's not only for herself Charlotte'stidy!" Arthur exclaimed.

  "No, indeed," said Noble, chiming in.

  "You needn't all set upon me like that," said Ted. "I'm sure I alwaysthank her when she tidies my things. I can't be tidy, and that's justall about it. When a fellow's grinding at lessons from Monday morningtill Saturday night."

  This piteous statement was received with a shout of laughter, Ted's"lessons" being a proverb in the house, as it was well known that theyreceived but the tag end of the attention naturally required forfootball, and cricket, and swimming, and stamp-collecting, andcarpentering, and all his other multifarious occupations.

  Mrs Waldron, scenting squabbles ahead, came to the rescue.

  "Tell us your adventures, Jerry. Is it a fine evening? Where is yourfather?"

  "He'll be in in a moment," Jerry replied. "He went round to thestables; I think he had something to say to Sam. Yes, mamma, we had avery nice drive. It was beautiful moonlight out at Silverthorns, butcoming back it clouded over."

  "Silverthorns!" Noble repeated. "Have you been out there too? Why,we've all been there--how funny! I thought mamma said you had gone toGretham. I say, isn't Silverthorns awfully pretty?"

  As he said the words the door opened, and Charlotte and her father camein together. They had met in the hall. Mr Waldron answered Noble'squestion, which had indeed been addressed to no one in particular.

  "It is a beautiful old place," he said. "But `east or west, home isbest.' I like to come in and see you all together with your mother,boys. And what a capital fire you've made up!" He went towards it ashe spoke, Charlotte half mechanically following him. "It is chilly outof doors. Gipsy, your hands are quite cold." He drew her close to thefire and laid one arm on her shoulder. She understood the littlecaress, but some undefined feeling of contradiction prevented herresponding to it.

  "I'm not particularly cold, papa, thank you," she said drily.

  Mrs Waldron looked up quietly at the sound of Charlotte's voice. Sheknew instinctively that all was not in tune, but she also knew it wouldnot do to draw attention to this, and she was on the point of hazardingsome other remark when Jerry broke in. Jerry somehow always seemed toknow what other people were feeling.

  "Papa," he said, "were you in earnest when you said there was a hauntedroom at Silverthorns?"

  Every one pricked up his or her ears at this question.

  "I was in earnest so far that I know there is a room there that is saidto be haunted," he replied.

  "And how?" asked Charlotte. "If any one slept there would they be founddead in the morning, or something dreadful like that?"

  "No, no, not so bad as that, though no one ever does sleep there. It'san old story in the family. I heard it when I was a boy."

  "Don't you think it's very wrong to tell stories like that to frightenchildren?" said Charlotte severely.

  "And pray who's begging for it at the present moment?" said Mr Waldron,amused at her tone.

  "Papa! we're not children. It isn't like as if it were Amy and Marion,"she said, laughing a little. "Do tell us."


  "Really, my dear, there's nothing to tell. It is believed that somelong ago Osbert, a selfish and cruel man by all accounts, haunts theroom in hopes of getting some one to listen to his repentance, and topromise to make amends for his ill-deeds. He treated the poor peopleabout very harshly; and not them only, he was very unkind to hisdaughter, because he was angry with her for not being a son, and lefther