Though no mention was made of any bitter feeling, Doris, reading deeply, guessed that the two ladies had carried their rivalry to such an extent that they had come to actually hate each other. Undoubtedly, the affair had been the talk of the town.
“Finally Father stepped in and took a hand,” Iris went on. “He told John that he must marry one of us before the end of the month or he would forbid him to ever step inside the gate again. Oh, it was dreadful!”
Here Iris’s voice broke and she could not continue. After a few minutes Azalea tried to take up the story.
“The days passed and still John could not choose. Each hour was a nightmare to Iris and to me. We knew the townsfolk were aware of everything and were laughing behind our backs. We became nervous and fairly sick with it all. Father could not bear to see us suffer, and one afternoon, meeting John coming up the path to the house, he stopped him.
“I don’t know what passed between them. Iris and I saw only what happened. Father spoke a few angry words to him and then they began to fight. John walked out of the gate, never to return.”
“How unfortunate!” Doris murmured.
“Yes,” Azalea said quietly, “but that was not the real tragedy. After their quarrel, Father staggered up the walk toward the house. We ran out, but before we could reach him, he fainted. He had always been afflicted with heart trouble, and the excitement was too much. In spite of everything the doctors did for him, he passed away in three days.”
“How very sad!” Kitty said sympathetically.
“My poor Uncle must have felt dreadfully wicked when he learned of your father’s death,” Doris commented.
Iris nodded soberly.
“I imagine he did, for no one ever heard of him again.”
As she spoke, Iris wiped the tears from her eyes and Azalea turned her head to hide her face. Doris felt a lump arising in her own throat as she considered the sorrowful end to the romance. She gazed thoughtfully toward the locked gates and a hush fell over the group.
CHAPTER XII
An Interlude
Doris and Kitty thought that the Misses Gates had finished their story, but presently, after a long pause, Iris went on with difficulty:
“After the funeral we closed the front gates and locked them. To this day they have never been opened.”
“We could not bear to remain in Rumson after all that had happened,” Azalea said quietly. “We went to Europe—Iris to France and I to Germany. There we plunged into study in the hope that it would help us to forget. Finally, when the old wound was partially healed, we once more turned to each other and returned home.”
“Then you both must be fluent linguists,” Doris broke in eagerly.
“Yes,” Iris agreed rather indifferently. “I speak French and Azalea has an excellent command of German.”
“Then perhaps you could help me! My singing teacher says I must study French and German this summer.”
“I am sure it would be a pleasure,” Iris declared.
“Yes, indeed,” Azalea added. “We have so little to occupy our time, and personally I shall be glad of an opportunity to brush up on my German.”
“We have troubled you enough for one day with our unhappy history,” Iris said lightly. “Come, I will show you the rest of the garden.”
Doris had hoped that the ladies would tell her why they had invited her to Locked Gates, but apparently they found it difficult to lead up to the subject.
Three days slipped by almost before the girls were aware of it. Once they had accustomed themselves to the quiet life of the mansion, they found it very enjoyable. They spent their mornings romping in the garden with Wags and their afternoons reading or sewing. Azalea and Iris left them alone a great deal, no doubt thinking the girls would have a better time by themselves. However, Kitty and Doris observed that the Misses Gates spent an hour of each day on the third floor, and as the ladies always took their Bible with them, they assumed that they were reading it there.
“Odd, isn’t it?” Kitty commented to her chum. “You would think they could read it in the living room as well as any other place.”
“Perhaps they don’t like to do it when we are around,” Doris suggested.
The girls did not mean to pry, but, suspecting that Cora and Henry Sully were aiding in a plot against the Misses Gates, they were more watchful than they otherwise might have been. On one occasion, as they passed through a hall, they chanced to hear the two engaged in conversation.
“Don’t see why they keep hangin’ on here unless they’re wise to something,” Henry muttered to his wife.
“What could they know?” Cora had demanded sullenly. “If you keep a close tongue in your head, nothing will get out.”
“You’re the one that has the wagging tongue,” Henry returned crossly. “I’d feel better if Trent would get back here. I’m for gittin’ the thing over with as quick as we can. No telling what may queer the deal.”
This snatch of conversation set Doris and Kitty to thinking anew of the sinister plot which was brewing. Yet, until they had learned more about Ronald Trent, they did not wish to alarm the Misses Gates. Since their arrival, Azalea and Iris had been very kind to them and had seemed to enjoy their company a great deal. Cora and Henry Sully had been most unpleasant, especially when there was no one about to observe their behavior, but the girls, knowing what lay behind the sullen actions, did not permit themselves to become annoyed.
“They mean to make it so unpleasant for us that we’ll leave,” Doris declared. “You know, Cora was hinting today that the mansion is haunted!”
“What!”
“Yes, she said that since Mr. Gates died, they have heard strange noises here at night.”
“Doris, do you believe the place is—”
“Of course not,” Doris laughed reassuringly. “You’re old enough to know there aren’t any ghosts.”
“Yes,” Kitty quavered, “but this house is old, and we have been hearing strange noises at night.”
It was true that each night the girls had been disturbed by loud groans and the sound of gruff voices. Doris had wondered if Cora and Henry Sully were trying to frighten them, for certainly it was not the wind that they heard.
It was lonesome and gloomy in the right wing of the old mansion and the girls had come to dread the nights. They would have been less nervous if Wags had been permitted to stay with them, but he had been consigned to the shelter of the porch.
Several times Doris and Kitty had been tempted to tell the Misses Gates everything they had learned, but knowing how partial the two ladies were to Ronald Trent, they hesitated. It would be better, they decided, to wait for the plotters to make the first move.
Doris had wondered if Dave would visit her at the mansion but she had not dared to hope that he would come for at least a week. On the afternoon of the third day she was, therefore, greatly surprised when she heard the rhythmical hum of an airplane motor.
“I wonder if it can be Dave?” she exclaimed to her chum.
Eagerly they watched as the plane swept closer. Then Doris recognized the familiar craft and scarcely could contain her excitement. The monoplane circled low and Dave waved to them. Finally he dropped a note to Doris telling her that he intended to come to see her soon. After that he turned back toward the airport.
“I suppose he’s just out for a trial flight today,” Doris declared.
When Kitty was not looking, she carefully folded the note and placed it in her pocket for future reference.
The sight of Dave, distant as it was, gave the girls a slight touch of homesickness, and for want of a better occupation they decided to write back to their friends. They had the library to themselves, for as usual Iris and Azalea had taken their Bible with them to the third floor.
“Jake certainly would enjoy this place,” Doris commented as she sat at the desk with pen poised. “He likes mysteries and things that smack of the unusual.”
“Jake has had an interesting past, didn’t you say?”
“Yes, Uncle Ward rescued him from a bad gang. I think Jake is still afraid of the old leader for he never uses his real name and always seems half afraid that some one he knows will find him. He is absolutely devoted to us now and would do anything in the world to help us.”
“Then tell him to come down here and rid this place of ghosts,” Kitty joked.
“I’ll bet he could, all right. Jake wouldn’t hesitate to plow right into them.”
“Seriously, I wish he and that young man you call Marshmallow would ride out here. Perhaps they could help us to get a line on Ronald Trent.”
“That’s so,” Doris agreed. “But why bring Marshmallow in on it? I guess you’d like to see him yourself, wouldn’t you? I noticed you two took to each other on sight.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing Marshall if he happened to be coming this way,” Kitty admitted unembarrassed. “He’s so jolly and—”
“Fat!” Doris finished mischievously.
“He is a little plump,” Kitty admitted, “but I don’t mind that.”
“We might write to Marshmallow and tell him of our experiences here,” Doris said thoughtfully. “It may be that we will need his help before we get home again.”
The girls fell to writing their letters and for some time there was no sound other than the scratching of their pens. Kitty wrote home while Doris sent messages to her uncle, to a girl friend in Chilton, to Dave, and to Marshmallow. She did not fail to include a cheery word for Jake.
Having finished their writing, the girls took the stamped letters and placed them in the mail box where the postman would gather them up early the next morning. They walked slowly back toward the mansion, Wags trotting contentedly at their heels.
Already it was dusk and the old mansion appeared wrapped in gloom. During the day the ancient house seemed less austere and mysterious, but by night it took on a character which filled the girls with uneasiness. Their imaginations tricked them into believing that shadowy forms might lurk behind the trees. They tried to shake off the mood, but always with the darkness it came.
“This is entirely different from Barry Manor,” said Doris. “Fancy our sorority moving in here for a week-end, that surely would liven things up a bit, but would no doubt upset the lives of these two ladies who live so secluded and almost a hermits’ existence.”
“I don’t see how the Misses Gates can stand to live here all the time,” Kitty said as they turned toward the side door where Wags was to be tied for the night. “I’d be a nervous wreck. I wish they would hurry up and tell you why they invited you here.”
“So do I,” Doris returned earnestly. “I am sure they haven’t told us all of their story. To speak of the past revives old memories and they keep putting it off. Ronald Trent may come back any day now and I want to learn just how matters stand before he gets here.”
CHAPTER XIII
An Important Request
Doris and Kitty spent an unpleasant night in the right wing, for, as they had anticipated, the weird noises began shortly after they had retired. Once, hearing footsteps near their door, they clutched each other in an agony of fear, but the sound soon died away. They were on the verge of falling asleep when a strange noise from a distant part of the wing roused them into wakefulness.
“This is terrible!” Kitty whispered. “What can be going on in this dreadful house?”
“Perhaps it’s only Cora or Henry astir,” Doris suggested, but the explanation did not satisfy her, and Kitty refused to be comforted by it.
For long hours the girls lay awake, but once asleep nothing disturbed them and they awoke in the morning feeling refreshed in spite of the harrowing night.
“It’s always something of a surprise each morning when I wake up and find I’m still alive,” Kitty laughed.
At breakfast Iris chanced to remark that an old croquet set had been stored in the attic and Doris and Kitty asked if they might use it.
“Certainly,” Iris assured them. “I’ll get it out of the attic for you.”
“Oh, let us get it ourselves,” Doris begged. “I just love to poke around in attics. It’s on the third floor above our wing, isn’t it?”
Azalea and Iris exchanged quick, startled glances.
“Oh, no,” Iris returned hastily. “The attic is in the left wing.”
“But I thought there was a floor above our bedroom,” Doris said, somewhat puzzled. “We’ve been hearing such queer noises at night.”
“Mice undoubtedly,” Azalea explained and arose from the table. “If you want to see the attic, come with me.”
They went to the kitchen for a lantern and then mounted the stairs to the third floor above the left wing. Azalea unlocked the door and told them to look about as much as they liked.
After Azalea had gone back down stairs, Doris whispered to her chum:
“Didn’t you think the twins acted funny when I asked about the third floor on our wing?”
“Yes, I did, Doris. They switched the subject, too.”
The attic was something of a disappointment, for it was very clean and tidy. A number of boxes lined the walls, but each was plainly labeled as to its contents. Flashing the lantern about, the girls saw that they contained blankets, woolens, old clothing, and numerous other articles.
“Nothing very exciting here,” Kitty said. “It isn’t any fun poking into boxes when they’re all labeled. I wish the Misses Gates weren’t such good housekeepers.”
Doris had found the croquet set and, with Kitty’s help, dragged it out into the light.
“We may as well take it down into the yard and have a game,” she suggested.
“I suppose so,” Kitty agreed. “I’d hoped we might stumble upon something interesting here, but I guess there’s no chance of it. You know, Doris, I’ve read about folks finding false bottom trunks and things like that in their attics.”
“I guess it happens only in stories. Anyway, I don’t see any trunk here. If there’s an attic above the right wing, I’ll bet it’s more interesting than this one.”
Locking the attic door, the girls took the croquet set down to the front lawn and set up the arches. They played three games, Doris going down in ignoble defeat.
“Croquet isn’t my game,” she laughed. “I’d rather wield a tennis racquet than a mallet.”
Soon tiring of the sport they amused themselves by throwing a rubber ball to Wags who would pick it up in his mouth and return it to them.
Presently Iris and Azalea brought their sewing and came out to sit in the swing. They watched the girls for a time and then Iris called to them.
“Perhaps you would like to hear the rest of the story we were telling you the other day?” she asked.
“Yes, indeed,” Doris declared.
“I’m afraid we’re only boring you,” Azalea murmured. “We have no desire to inflict our troubles upon you.”
“Oh, but you aren’t,” Doris assured her. “We’re both very much interested.”
Leaving Wags to his own devices, the girls sat down in the swing beside the Misses Gates.
“You go on with the story,” Azalea murmured.
Iris did not begin at once but sat for some minutes gazing away. At last, with a sigh, she forced herself to take up the broken threads.
“For thirty-two years after John Trent left, we heard no word from him,” she said sadly. “Often we wondered what might have become of him. At first we thought perhaps he would write to one of us—at least to tell us that he was sorry for everything that had happened.”
“And he didn’t?” Doris asked.
“No, to this day our only message has been through his son. You may imagine our joy when Ronald came to see us here at the mansion. He resembles his mother more than his father, it seems, so we did not recognize him.”
Kitty and Doris exchanged odd glances but Iris did not notice.
“Ronald told us that his father was dead,” she continued in a low voice. “His wife had died before him, so Ronald was his heir. B
efore John passed away, he begged Ronald to return to Rumson and find the lovely Misses Gates. Those were his very words! ‘Do all in your power to make them happy,’ he said.”
Here Iris paused to wipe her eyes.
“It was very dear of him to think of us at the last,” Azalea said softly, “and very kind of his son to come this far with the message. He remembered us in a material way, too.”
“Yes,” Iris went on bravely. “It seems, that after John left Rumson he accumulated a large fortune. He willed three-quarters of the estate to his son—which was as it should be—and the remaining quarter to Azalea and myself, to be divided equally.”
“How considerate,” Doris murmured.
“Yes,” Iris agreed, “and just at this time the money will come in handy. You see, since Father died the estate has dwindled. We have this property, of course, but very little ready money.”
“Unfortunately, we shall not be able to get our inheritance for some time,” Azalea explained. “There are certain legal complications which I do not entirely understand. There seems to have been some tangle about identifying poor John’s body at the time of his death and the estate is tied up.”
“Of course we shall get the money in the end,” Iris declared, “but right now there are a number of attorney’s fees to be met. Ronald is entirely without funds, so it was natural that he should come to us.”
“You gave him money?” Doris asked, although she thought she knew the answer.
“Yes, we loaned him what we had, but our funds are running low,” Azalea told her. “It isn’t as if we were actually giving him the money, for in the end every one will be rich.”
“Ronald says he will pay us back when the estate is settled,” Iris added.
Doris and Kitty were so taken by surprise that for a minute they could think of nothing to say. The twins looked at each other in an embarrassed way, and it was evident that they scarcely knew how to go on.
“Unless we can raise money to meet the necessary attorney’s fees, we will lose our inheritance,” Azalea said. “We have nothing of value we can sell except this mansion, and we are too old to leave it after having lived here all these years.
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