The strange house or, A moment's mistake
"Good afternoon, Miss Ashlyn," said a tall, pleasant-looking girl of
about thirteen, coming out of the dining-room, where she had been
waiting on purpose to receive her governess. "Mother is out just now,
but told me to make you welcome."
"Thank you," said Gertrude. "Are you Mollie?"
"Yes. Will you like to remove your things, or will you have some tea
first?"
The prospect of a cup of tea after her long journey looked very
inviting, and gave Gertrude a pleasant impression of her new
surroundings that such a thing should have been thought of.
"Stay!" said Mollie, ere she could reply. "I will have it brought to
your room; you will feel more at home so."
"She won't!" said Ned, peeping in at the door and hearing his sister's
remark. "People don't get at home in their bedrooms! Besides, I want to
see Miss Ashlyn, and if you shut her up there, I shan't."
Mollie tossed her head at this advice. While Ned came forward on
Gertrude's holding out her hand, with an awkward attempt to be at his
ease.
"I shall soon be at home, I dare say," said Gertrude, as brightly as
she could, though her heart felt like a lump of lead, and she would
like to have hidden her face and had a good cry.
"Come up-stairs, Miss Ashlyn," said Mollie then, "and do not mind Ned.
He is always rude."
The matter-of-fact tone of this revelation was very astonishing, but
Mollie left no time for Ned's rejoinder, as she tripped on before,
having taken up Gertrude's umbrella and waterproof in her hand.
"This is your room," she said, when they had gained the top floor. "You
will find a nice view from the windows, which 'I' think compensates for
the stairs!"
"Beautiful!" said Gertrude.
"Susan will bring up your boxes in a moment. Oh! Here she is with your
tea. We shall have high-tea at seven o'clock. When you are ready, if
you will ring, Susan will tell me, and I will come up to show you the
way down."
"Thank you, Mollie," said Gertrude gratefully. "You seem to have
thought of everything!"
The girl looked rather astonished, but answered, abruptly, "Oh, that is
nothing. I hope your tea will be good."
She left the room, and Gertrude laid her bonnet down and threw off her
jacket, just as two maids came to her door with her boxes.
They were soon uncorded, the servants glancing at her a little
curiously, though not unkindly. And then the door was shut and she was
alone.
She looked round; her room was large and well-furnished, with a
somewhat low ceiling, but the window was wide and low too, giving an
impression of space and expanse very cheering to the country girl, who
had dreaded brick walls and endless roofs.
No walls or roofs, at least near ones, obtruded themselves on her view.
Before her stretched the gardens of neighbouring houses, and beyond
these were a few more distant streets of villas, shut in finally by
green hills and fields, with Highgate spire in the distance.
Then she turned her attention to her tea. On the dainty tray was
a pretty tea-set with a plate of sandwiches and some cake for her
refreshment.
So she sat down to partake of it, leaving her boxes and all else till
she should have tasted that fragrant cup which had been prepared.
Greatly revived, and feeling that the world looked decidedly less dark
than it had done a quarter of an hour ago, she rose and prepared to
unpack her boxes, having gathered that this was what Mollie expected
her to do.
The things which had taken so long to work at and pack at home, took
but little time to take out of the box and arrange neatly in the
wardrobe. All was done very quickly, and then she stood ready to begin
her new life.
"This is the last time I shall be mistress of my own time," she said to
herself with a little smile on her lips. "How strange it will seem!"
Then she knelt down by the bed, and asked that she might be blessed in
this home and be made a blessing.
Then she rang her bell, as directed, and waited Mollie's appearance
with beating heart.
CHAPTER VI.
ALL SIX!
MOLLIE looked round on her governess's room with approving eyes.
"You have found out where to put your things," she remarked. "Do you
like your room?"
"Very much indeed, thank you."
"We have only had one governess before," said Mollie, "but the boys go
to school now, all but Randall, and he's spoilt." She laughed lightly
as she led the way down-stairs once more.
"Will you make acquaintance with the schoolroom first, Miss Ashlyn?"
"Anywhere you like, dear."
"Then here it is," she said, pausing on the landing of the first floor.
"That is mother's room, that is mine and Daisy's; there is the spare
room, and this is our own special study, where we 'grind,' and play,
and practise."
The view from the window looking towards the front, though different
from her room up-stairs, Gertrude considered very good "for London,"
for it was over the well-kept grounds of a gentleman's house, which was
nearly hidden in the autumn-tinted trees.
But only a glance did she give at that, for at the table sat her
pupils, who would henceforth be everything to her.
Daisy was a plain little girl with a dark, sober face, who looked up
quietly and even calmly into her face, murmuring, "Good afternoon, Miss
Ashlyn."
So different was the child from bright, energetic Mollie, that Gertrude
almost felt abashed by her reception. She shook her little hand,
however, and looked round at the other occupants of the room.
Ned, whose acquaintance she had already made, sat perched on the end of
the sofa, swinging his legs backwards and forwards.
"I'm not one of 'em," he announced with a wink at the others, at which
Randall winked back and gave a giggle.
"I know that," answered Gertrude pleasantly, "so now I must put names
to these two. This is Randall, I am sure, by what I have heard; and
this must be Hugh."
She bent towards the boy—rather taller than Randall, but not so
robust—and looked into his face.
Did something in him remind her for an instant of that little nephew
who had gone out of their life so mysteriously? For a moment she felt
as if she were speaking to him. Then her eyes nearly filled with tears,
and very tenderly she said, "I hope Hugh and I shall be friends."
The child, for he was about nine years old, looked up with great
astonishment. While Randall burst out—"He's a cry-baby; you won't care
for him."
"Shall I not?" answered Gertrude. "We shall see."
"Oh, fie!" said Daisy, colouring. "You should not tell tales out of
school."
"We haven't begun yet," said Randall, nodding.
"Why, there's mother; she's coming in."
He ran to the window to make sure, and then bounded down the stairs.
"What are you playing at?" asked Gertrude, turning to Daisy and Hugh.
"A word game," said Daisy, rather curtly.
"Would you care to join?" asked Mollie. "But I do not think it is worth
while, for mother is come in, and she will want to see you, she said."
"I will look on then," answered Gertrude.
She stood by the table watching the game till Randall came tearing
back to say that Mrs. Shaddock was in the drawing-room, and would Miss
Ashlyn go there to her.
She found Mrs. Shaddock a woman evidently accustomed to society,
apparently with but little in common with the life which Gertrude had
left—a life full of Sunday-school work, Church interests, and desires
after pleasing God above everything else.
"I am sure you will satisfy me," Mrs. Shaddock concluded, after they
had talked for half an hour; "so do not be discouraged if you find
things difficult at first."
She rose as she said these words, and Gertrude found herself dismissed,
with all the load of her six charges on her hands.
"I am out a great deal," Mrs. Shaddock had said, "and I require a
governess who will act in my absence as if she were an elder daughter."
She went up-stairs pondering deeply. So she was expected to "manage"
the whole six! What if they should prove too much for her?
Then she remembered a promise which she had often "tried and proved."
"'As thy days so shall thy strength be.'"
So she entered the study with a peaceful face.
"Here is Conway," said Mollie, looking up. "Now you have seen all of
us! And, Miss Ashlyn, Conway said he had something to tell us, when you
came up. Do you know we have a Strange House next door?"
CHAPTER VII.
CONWAY'S DISCOVERIES.
CONWAY was a tall boy of between fifteen and sixteen, and acknowledged
Gertrude's salutation with not over-ceremonious courtesy. He was,
however, full of some news he was anxious to bring out, and directly
the door was shut and Gertrude had taken the seat Mollie pushed towards
her, he began—
"I say! Such a lark as I have had!"
"When?" asked Ned. "What do you mean?"
"I went just now to the Strange House. I thought as it was the last day
of the holidays that I would signalize it!"
"Miss Ashlyn does not know anything about the Strange House,"
interrupted Mollie.
"Then I shall tell her," said Ned, "so that Conway can gather breath
for his story."
"Pooh!" laughed Conway. "But, anyway, Miss Ashlyn must be told about
our episode the other night, or she will not see why I was so anxious
to find out about our mysterious neighbour."
"First, then," said Ned, "about a year ago the next house (which you
perceive is a somewhat old-fashioned one, and is not nearly such a good
one as ours) was taken by some one, and a van with furniture came in
the evening just before dark.
"We did not take much notice, but thought one van was but little
for the size of the house. We were somewhat curious about our new
neighbours, but never could see any of them about, except a man, who
could not be called a gentleman, whom we dubbed 'Mr. Eccentric.'
"No tradesmen seem to call. No postmen bring letters. Except for that
one man who continually works in his garden, the house might be empty."
"Perhaps he likes solitude," suggested Gertrude, as Ned paused.
"But," said Mollie eagerly, "that's the strange part of it. Mother
and I certainly saw a light moved and put out that night when the new
policeman took the man up for a burglar."
Conway now took up the thread and explained all about the events
recorded in the first chapter, gratified to find a fresh listener in
the governess, and to see that her attention did not flag.
"Well, let all that be," said Ned at last. "Now tell us what you have
found out more. You do not mean to say that you went up to the house,
Conway? But you've got cheek for anything."
"I had cheek enough for that," laughed Conway. "I went just now and
knocked at the door, intending to ask the old fellow how he felt after
his apprehension the other night. But I knocked and I rang, I knocked
and I rang, till I was tired of that game. Nobody came to the door, for
the very reason that nobody was at home to do so, I suppose. Just as
I was turning on my heel, the old fellow came up the garden path and
asked stiffly what I might want.
"I told him I had come to make inquiries as to his health—"
"You never did!" exclaimed Ned.
"I did! I sympathized with him in the bobby's rough handling, et
cetera, et cetera, and got him round into a good temper before I had
done with him."
"That's like you!" said Mollie.
"He told me that he lived by himself, that he might be perhaps a little
peculiar, but that gardening was his hobby. And that if only folks
would let him alone, he did not wish to meddle with any one. He would
go his way, and they could go theirs."
"How funny!" said Ned.
"But for all his peculiarity, there was a certain uneasiness about
him," Conway went on, "that made me suspicious. He's got heaps of
vegetables and fruit in that back garden!"
"Of course he has," said Mollie; "any one with eyes can see that from