CHAPTER V

  THE "HAUNTED CHAMBER"

  Janet entered the room once occupied by her mother and closed the door.Soberly she stood still and looked about. Facing her, upon the wall,there hung a face so like the one which she daily saw in her mirrorthat she had no difficulty in recognizing it as her mother. Yet sherealized now that in certain features she did resemble her father, as"Gramma" Eldon had insisted. That was one thing that Janet rememberedout of the confused memories of her early childhood.

  The attractive mouth smiled down upon Janet. Fair hair like herdaughter's crowned the sensitive face. The dress was white, lacy aboutbare neck and arms. A necklace of pearls furnished adornment. "Why, howyoung you look, Mother," said Janet aloud. She was surprised. Motherswere old.

  Glancing down at a graceful little table which stood under the picture,Janet saw a sheet of note paper. Some one, probably Cousin Diana, hadwritten a message upon it.

  "This is Jannet at nineteen, shortly before she was married. The gownis one that she wore at a recital where she 'sang like an angel',according to your father. Your mother lived in New York, studyingvoice, for a year. Your grandfather took an apartment there and yourgrandmother died there. Then they came back here, your uncle's familymoved in, and your mother was married from here. She met your father inNew York."

  Some girls might have taken an immediate inventory of everything. Notso Janet. A little feeling of reverence and hesitation held her. Shesat down in a chair near the table to think and to grow familiar withher mother's face. Then she noted a small silver vase of spring violetson top of a dark, old-fashioned highboy. She jumped up and put theviolets beneath her mother's picture on the table. "I think that Ishall keep some flowers there for you, Mother," she said.

  Presently other things in the room challenged her attention. The darkhighboy was a handsome piece of furniture. She slowly pulled out one ofits curved drawers,--empty. Her own clothes could be put here, wherethat other Jannet's clothing was. One by one, Janet opened the drawers.In the bottom one a few unmounted photographs lay loosely. EagerlyJanet picked them up. Good! They were pictures of the place, the oldhouse as it was,--and oh, this must be her mother and father! Why, didthey have snap-shots _then_?

  Of course they had snap-shots fifteen years or so ago! She must becrazy to think that her mother and father belonged to the antiques!What a bright, laughing face it was! They were hand in hand, the twoyoung people, her mother in her wedding veil, her father so handsome inhis wedding attire. Some one had snapped them outdoors, and her motherwas in the act of curtseying, her arm stretched to her young husband,who held his wife's hand and bowed also, looking at his bride insteadof at the camera.

  Janet could imagine the scene, with a crowd of merry guests looking on.She looked from the wall picture to the photograph, and to the pictureagain. It must be a good painting, then, true to life. But she wouldmount that little picture of her father and mother and have it insight. She laid it carefully upon the table and went to examine abeautiful desk that stood at no great distance from the fireplace. Howwonderful to have such a fireplace in her own room! And suppose thatthis was one of the desks with secret drawers! Why, she would not missstaying here for any comfort that the newer building might offer. Thatdear little rocking chair might have been used for years by her mother.

  After a tour of the room and a look out of its two windows, one ofwhich opened upon a balcony that stretched away the length of thehouse, Janet again sat down near the table and looked up at the pictureabove, when the sudden opening of her door startled her.

  A straight, angular woman, with dark hair gathered into a little knoton top of her head, stalked into the room with a large comforter in herarms. She wore spectacles, but as they were drooping upon her noseJanet thought that they were not of much use. A woolen dress under anenveloping gingham apron and shoes whose tops were hidden by the dresswhich came to her ankles, completed the picture.

  She did not see Janet until she was well into the room, and startedback a little. "Miss Jannet!" she exclaimed under her breath. Then sherecovered herself and stalked to the bed to lay the comforter and ablanket, which it had concealed from view, across the foot. "You'rehere, then," she continued. "You look like your ma. You will need someextra covers to-night. It's turning colder now. I'll have a fire madein the fireplace. Your ma liked this room because she could have one.But I wouldn't sleep here for anything."

  "Why?" Janet asked.

  "The room is ha'nted," replied the woman, leaving the room in the samestiff way, without another word.

  Janet's rather sober face relaxed into a broad smile. This must be "OldP'lina!" Later Janet was to find out that the name was Paulina, PaulinaStout.

  But "ha'nted," or not "ha'nted," the room was fascinating. It was hers.No other room in the house could seem like that. What had Uncle Pietersaid about her "having some rights in the home of her ancestors?" Thisshould be one of them, then, to occupy her mother's room.

  Supper was served in due time. The dining-room seemed large for thesize of the present family, but Janet understood from what Mrs. Holthad told her that there was often considerable entertainment of guests.She wondered, for she could not imagine Uncle Pieter in the role ofaffable host. He appeared to be preoccupied and joined little in theconversation, which was largely between Cousin Diana and Cousin Andy.Once he asked Mrs. Holt when her mother would be back, and inquiredabout John's coming. So Cousin Di had a mother who made her home there,too.

  Janet was wondering about many things, but she remembered MissHilliard's caution, not to be in too much of a hurry to find outeverything. "It will take you a little while to become adjusted to thenew place and the new people, Janet," she had said. "One learns aboutpeople slowly sometimes. Be patient."

  Janet knew that it was not her nature to be patient. Perhaps no one ispatient by nature. Patience is a grace to be cultivated. Janet'sconsideration for others, nevertheless, kept her from blundering intoquestions or comments that were not proper. A sense of propriety wasalmost inherent with her and served her well in this experience amongstrangers.

  Uncle Pieter disappeared soon after the meal. Andrew, Diana and Janetvisited for a little while, then Mrs. Holt accompanied Janet, by way ofthe corridors this time, to the door of her room. She peeped in at theglowing fire that burned behind a modern wire screen, put there forsafety. "Better let the fire die down, after you toast your toes alittle, Janet. Shall I look in a little later? Are you lonesome?"

  "Oh, no. I'll go to bed pretty soon. I love that old four-poster!"

  "You would not like it if it had the old ropes that sagged. But thereare some good modern springs and a fine mattress. Where your uncle hasgotten all the money that he has spent on this place is a mystery tome. But I was delighted to be asked here. I had not seen the placesince I visited your mother when we were girls. You will find somepaper in your desk. That is the famous desk with the secret drawers,Janet."

  "Really? I did not know if I might open it or not, though the key isthere."

  "Everything here is for you to use. Your uncle gave me directions tothat effect. He said that you are to have your mother's furniture."

  "How good of him."

  "Perhaps not. Why should you not have it?"

  Janet looked a little wonderingly at her cousin. Perhaps that was so.Unless Uncle Pieter had bought it or arranged to have it when theestate was divided, it would be hers.

  How good it was to sit quietly in the room, writing a few of the chiefevents to Miss Hilliard, while the fire began to die down andeverything grew quiet. She did not mind a few April frogs thatperformed for her benefit somewhere in the neighborhood. The countrywas nice, and she was so sleepy. She could not quite finish the letter,but hurried to undress before the fire should go out, and climbed intothe comfortable, soft bed, first spreading on the extra blanket. Onfinding it very chilly when she opened the window, she also spread widethe dainty blue and white comforter, letting the bottom edge of
it hangover the foot of the bed instead of tucking it in. Even then it came upunder her chin. In sweet contentment Janet said her prayers in hermother's room and fell asleep.

  Later a thunderstorm, or series of storms came up. Janet roused enoughto put down her windows, sufficiently to prevent the rain's beating in.Then she went to sleep again.

  Suddenly Janet wakened. She could hear the rain pouring again. Butthere was a movement. Slowly the comforter began to slide from her. Howstrange! The cold chills began to play up and down Janet's spine. Couldthere be a burglar? She lay still, her face in the pillow.

  Now more swiftly the cover was drawn off. It was gone. A flash oflightning, dimly lighting the room from under the shades and curtainsof the window, disclosed a moving form at the foot of the bed. Janet,who had lifted her head to see, again pressed her face into the pillow.She listened for the opening of the door, but there was no sound fromthat direction.

  A faint noise somewhere, like the little click of a latch,perhaps,--and Janet lay still for a long time, hearing nothing but therain and the boom of distant thunder. Janet remembered that she hadslid fast a small, curious brass bolt at the door when she went to bed.How could any one enter there? Possibly there was some other entrance,but she had not noticed any.

  It was some time before Janet dared to sit up in bed and finally toslip from under the covers and run to where the electric button was.Flash! On came the light and Janet was at the door, ready to run ifthere were any menacing presence in the room. _The bolt was still_ inposition, as she had left it when locking up!

  On the chair by the bed was her bath robe; beneath lay her slippers.These all she donned and went to the windows. They were still only atrifle raised, and now Janet threw them up as high as they would go. Noone had entered there, though the curious little balcony, with vinesbeginning to leaf out, shone wet with the rain and the light fromJanet's room.

  There were two doors besides the one which led into the hall. Of thesetwo, one opened into a closet, the other into a bathroom. Janet did notknow whether that had been there in the old days or not but she fanciedthat it might have dated back to her mother's time. After her uncle'sbrief talk at supper about the old Dutch homes and habits and the earlydays of New York history, Janet was beginning to feel as if she were apart of a long line, indeed, and her curiosity was aroused about allthese little details.

  She opened the closet door. There hung her dresses. Her hats were uponthe shelf. She reached back to the wall. No door there. The bathroom,blue and white and prettily tiled, offered no solution to themysterious visitor who had carried off the comforter.

  "No ghost," said Janet to herself, "could carry off a thick bluecomforter!" But it _was_ funny,--queer. Had the comforter been anywherein the room, she might have thought it a dream. Yet she certainly didnot dream those cold chills, or that odd feeling when slowly the coverwas drawn off. But at least the intruder, ghost or not, had not harmedher in any way.

  Little birds began to sing outside and a gray dawn was breaking. Janetcrept back into bed, refreshed by the air from the wide open windows.At once she fell asleep, not to waken till Paulina rapped loudly on herdoor to waken her in time for breakfast.