The Ghost Girl

by H. De Vere Stacpoole

  CHAPTER V

  When Richard Pinckney came down to breakfast that morning, he found MissPinckney seated at the table reading letters.

  "Phyl went out early and has not come back yet," said she putting theletters aside and pouring out the tea.

  "Gone out," said he. "Where can she have gone to?"

  Miss Pinckney did not seem to hear the question. She was not thinking ofPhyl or her whereabouts. Richard's engagement to Frances Rhett was stilldominating her mind, casting a shadow upon everything. It was like a deathin the family.

  "I hope she's not bothered about what happened last night," went onRichard. "I didn't tell you at the time, but I had--some words with SilasGrangerson, and--Phyl was there. Silas is a fool, but it's just as wellthe thing happened for it has brought matters to a head. I want to tellyou something--I'm not engaged to Frances Rhett."

  "Not engaged?"

  "I was, but it's broken off. I had a moment's talk with her before we leftlast night. I was in a temper about a lot of things, and the business withSilas put the cap on it. Anyhow, we had words, and the thing is brokenoff."

  "Oh, dear me," said Miss Pinckney. The joyful shock of the news seemed tohave reduced her mind to chaos for a moment. One could not have told fromher words or manner whether the surprise was pleasant or painful to her.

  She drew her chair back from the table a little, and sought for and foundher handkerchief. She dried her eyes with it as she found her voice.

  "I don't know, I don't know, I'm sure. I've prayed all night that thismight be, and now that the Lord has heard my prayer and answered it, Ifeel cast right down with the wonder of it. Had I the right to interfere?I don't know, I'm sure. It seems terrible to separate two people but I hadno thought only for you. I've spoken against the girl, and wished againsther, and felt bad in my heart against her, and now it's all over I'm justcast down."

  "She did not care for me," said Pinckney. "Why she was laughing at me lastnight with him. They were sitting outside together, and when I passed themI heard them laughing at me."

  Miss Pinckney put her handkerchief away, drew in her chair, and pouredherself out some more tea energetically and with a heightened colour.

  "I don't want to speak bad about any one," said she, "but there are girlsand girls. I know them, and time and again I've seen girls hangingthemselves out with labels on them. 'I'm the finest apple on the tree,'yet no one has picked them for all their labels, because every one hasguessed that they aren't--That crab apple labelling itself a pippin anddaring to laugh at you! And that long loony Silas Grangerson, a manwithout a penny to bless himself with, a creature whose character is justkinks. Well, I'm sure--pass me the butter--laughing at you. And what werethey laughing at pray? Aren't you straight and the best looking man inCharleston? Couldn't you buy the Rhetts twice over if you wanted to buysuch rubbish? Aren't you the top man in Charleston in name and positionand character? Why, they'll be laughing at the jokes in the N'York papersnext--They'll be appreciating their own good sense and cleverness andpersonal beauty next thing--They'll be worshipping Bryan."

  "Oh, I don't think they'll ever get as bad as that," said he laughing,"but I don't think I care whether people grin at me or not; it's only justthis, she and I were never meant for each other, and I found it out, andfound it out in time. You see the engagement was never made public, so thebreaking of it won't do her any harm. She would not let me tell peopleabout it, she said it would be just as well to keep it secret for a while,and then if either of us felt disposed we could break it off and no harmdone."

  "Meaning that she could break it off if she wanted to but you couldn't."

  "Perhaps. When I went back last night and told her I wanted to be free,she flew out."

  "Said you must stick to your word?"

  "Nearly that. Then I told her she herself had said that it was open toeither of us to break the business off."

  "What did she say to that?"

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

  "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 God," said she.

  The one supreme wish of her life had been granted to her. Her gazewandered to the glimpse of garden visible through the open window andrested there. She was old, she had seen friend and relative fade andvanish, the Mascarenes, the Pinckneys, children, old people, all hadbecome part of that mystery, the past. Richard alone remained to her, andPhyl. On the morning of Phyl's arrival Miss Pinckney had felt just asthough some door had opened to let this visitor in from the world of longago. It was not only her likeness to Juliet Mascarene, but all theassociations that likeness brought with it. Vernons became alive again, asin 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 tellyou something I'd never have spoken of if you didn't care for her. It maybe an old woman's fancy, but Phyl is more to us, seems to me, than wethink, she's Juliet come back--Oh, it's more than the likeness. I'm sure Ican't explain what I mean, it's just she herself that's the same. There'sa 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 absurdthan to be born, and look at that butterfly, what's more absurd than totell me that yesterday it was a worm? Well, it doesn't much matter whethershe was Juliet or not, now she's going to be yours, and to save you fromthat pasty--no matter she's over and done with, but I reckon she'slaughing on the wrong side of her face this morning."

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "Miss Phyl run off with young Silas Grangerson! What on earth are youtalking about, what rubbish is this, who's dared to come here talking suchnonsense? 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 Grangervilleby 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 topass 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, leftthe room and went to the kitchen.

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

  "What's all this nonsense you have been talking," said she, "coming heresaying Miss Phyl has run away with Mr. Silas? She started out this morningto meet him and drive to Grangersons; I'm going there myself ateleven--and you come here talking of people running away. Do you know youcould be put in prison for saying things like that? You _dare_ to say itagain to any one and I'll have you taken off before you're an hour older,you black imp of mischief."<
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  There was a rolling pin on the table, and half unconsciously her handclosed on it. Colonel Grangerson's man, grey and clutching at his hat, didnot wait for the sequel, he bolted.

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

  "It is so and it's not so," said she at last, talking half to herself halfto the woman. "It's some trick of Silas Grangerson's. But the main thingis no one must know. We have got to get her back. No one mustknow--Rachel, go and find Seth and send him off at once to the garageplace and tell them to let me have an automobile at once, at once, mindyou. 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 kneesby the big settee adjoining the writing table and began to wrestle withthe situation in prayer. Miss Pinckney was not overgiven to prayer. Sheheld that worriting the Almighty eternally about all sorts of nonsense, assome people do who pray for "direction" and weather, etc., was bad form tosay the least of it. She even went further than that, and held thatpraising 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 morninginstead of getting on with their work, she would know exactly what itmeant--Laziness or concealed broken china, or both.

  But in moments of supreme stress and difficulty, Miss Pinckney was abeliever in prayer. Her prayer now was speechless, one might compare it toa mental wrestle with the abominable situation before God.

  When she rose from her knees everything was clear to her. Two things wereevident. 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 twiceover.

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

  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. Ifthe worst occurred then she could explain everything to Richard.

  It was a desperate gamble; well she knew how the dice were loaded againsther, 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 withColonel Grangerson's coloured man, but she well knew how coloured servantstalk; Grangerson's man was safe enough, he was frightened and he wouldhave to get back to Grangerville. Rachel was absolutely safe, Dinah alonewas doubtful.

  She called Rachel in, gave her the note for Richard and told her to keep aclose 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 hasdone a foolish thing, but there's no harm in it, only what fools will makeof 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 mouthto say more'n 'potatoes' I'll dress her down so's she won't know which endof her's which."

  Miss Pinckney went upstairs, dressed hurriedly, packed a few things in abag 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, andthen advanced to open the door.

  "Why, God bless my soul, it's you," cried the Colonel. "What hashappened?"

  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 toCharleston to attend some dance or another. What on earth is the matterwith you, Maria?"

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

  "Silas has run away with Phyl," said she, "that's what's the matter withme. Your son has taken that girl off, Seth Grangerson, and may God havemercy upon him."

  "The red-headed girl?" said the Colonel.

  "Phyl," replied she, "you know quite well whom I mean."

  Colonel Grangerson made a few steps up and down the room to calm himself.Maria Pinckney was speaking to him in a tone which, had it been used byany one else, would have caused an explosion.

  "But when did it happen," he asked, "and where have they gone? Explainyourself, Maria. Good God! Why the fellow never spoke to her scarcely--areyou sure of what you say?"

  Miss Pinckney told her tale.

  "I came here to try and get her back," said she, "thinking he and shemight possibly have come here or that you might know theirwhereabouts--they have not come, but there is just the chance that theymay come here yet."

  "But if they have run off with each other," said the Colonel, "how are weto stop them--they'll be married by this."

  Miss Pinckney who had taken off her gloves sat down and began to foldthem, neatly rolling one inside the other.

  "_Married,_" said she.

  The Colonel standing by the window with his hands in his pockets turned.

  "And why not?" said he. "The girl's a lady, and you told me she was notbadly off. Silas might have done worse it seems to me."

  "Done worse! He couldn't have done worse. I'd sooner see her dead in hercoffin than married to Silas--There, you have it plain and straight. He'llmake her life a misery. Let me speak, Seth Grangerson, you are just goingto hear the truth for once. You have ruined that boy the way you'vebrought him up, he was crazy wild to start with and you've never checkedhim. Oh, I know, he has always been respectful to you and flattered yourpride and vanity, he calls you sir when he speaks to you, and you are theonly person in the world to whom he shews respect. I don't say he actslike that from any double dealing motive, it's just the old southerntradition he's inherited; he does respect you, and I daresay he's fond ofyou, but he respects nothing else, especially women. I know him. And Iknow her, and he'll make her life a misery. If he'd left her alone she'dhave been happy. Richard loves her, and would have made her a goodhusband. My mind was set on it, and now it's all over."

  Miss Pinckney began to weep, and the Colonel who had been swelling himselfup found his anger collapsing. She was only a woman. Women have queerfancies--This especial woman too was part of the past and privileged.

  He came to her and stood beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder.

  "My dear Maria," said the Colonel, "youth is youth--There is not any usein laying down the law for young people or making plans for theirmarriages. Leave it in the hands of Providence. The most carefullyarranged marriages often turn out the worst, and a scratch match has oftenas not turned out happily. Anyhow, you will stay here till news comes ofthem?"

  "Yes, I will stay," said Miss Pinckney.