CHAPTER V

  GETTING ACQUAINTED

  By the third day after their arrival in Milton, the Kenway sisterswere quite used to their new home; but not to their new condition.

  "It's just delightful," announced Agnes. "I'm going to love this oldhouse, Ruth. And to run right out of doors when one wants to--with anapron on and without 'fixing up'--nobody to see one----"

  The rear premises of the old Corner House were surrounded by a tightfence and a high, straggling hedge. The garden and backyard made aplayground which delighted Tess and Dot. The latter seemed to havegotten over her first awe of the big house and had forgotten to askfurther questions about the meaning of the mysterious word, "spooky."

  Tess and Dot established their dolls and their belongings in a littlesummer-house in the weed-grown garden, and played there contentedlyfor hours. Ruth and Aggie were working very hard. It was as much asAunt Sarah would do if she made her own bed and brushed up her room.

  "When I lived at home before," she said, grimly, "there were plenty ofservants in the house. That is, until Father Stower died and Peterbecame the master."

  Mr. Howbridge came on this day and brought a visitor which surprisedRuth.

  "This is Mrs. McCall, Miss Kenway," said the lawyer, who insisted upontreating Ruth as quite a grown-up young lady. "Mrs. McCall is awidowed lady for whom I have a great deal of respect," continued thegentleman, smiling. "And I believe you girls will get along nicelywith her."

  "I--I am glad to meet Mrs. McCall," said Ruth, giving the widow one ofher friendly smiles. Yet she was more than a little puzzled.

  "Mrs. McCall," said Mr. Howbridge, "will take many household cares offyour shoulders, Miss Kenway. She is a perfectly good housekeeper, as Iknow," and he laughed, "for she has kept house for me. If you girlsundertook to take care of even a part of this huge house, you wouldhave no time for anything else."

  "But----" began Ruth, in amazement, not to say panic.

  "You will find Mrs. McCall just the person whom you need here," saidMr. Howbridge, firmly.

  She was a strong looking, brisk woman, with a pleasant face, and Ruth_did_ like her at once. But she was troubled.

  "I don't see, Mr. Howbridge, how we can _afford_ anybody to helpus--just now," Ruth said. "You see, we have so very little money. Andwe already have borrowed from you, sir, more than we can easilyrepay."

  "Ha! you do not understand," said the lawyer, quickly. "I see. Youthink that the money I advanced before you left Bloomingsburg was aloan?"

  "Oh, sir!" gasped Ruth. "We could not accept it as a gift. It wouldnot be right----"

  "I certainly do admire your independence, Ruth Kenway," said thegentleman, smiling. "But do not fear. I am not lending you moneywithout expecting to get full returns. It is an advance against youruncle's personal estate."

  "But suppose his will is never found, sir?" cried Ruth.

  "I know of no other heirs of the late Mr. Stower. The court recognizesyou girls as the legatees in possession. There is not likely to be anyquestion of your rights at all. But we hope the will may be found andthus a suit in Chancery be avoided."

  "But--but is it _right_ for us to accept all this--and spend money,and all that--when there is still this uncertainty about the will?"demanded Ruth, desperately.

  "I certainly would not advise you to do anything that was wrong eitherlegally or morally," said Mr. Howbridge, gravely. "Don't you worry. Ishall pay the bills. You can draw on me for cash within reason."

  "Oh, sir!"

  "You all probably need new clothing, and some little luxuries to whichyou have not been always accustomed. I think I must arrange for eachof you girls to have a small monthly allowance. It is good for youngpeople to learn how to use money for themselves."

  "Oh, sir!" gasped Ruth, again.

  "The possibility of some other person, or persons, putting in a claimto Mr. Peter Stower's estate, must be put out of your mind, MissKenway," pursued the kindly lawyer. "You have borne enoughresponsibility for a young girl, already. Forget it, as the boys say.

  "Remember, you girls are very well off. You will be protected in yourrights by the court. Let Mrs. McCall take hold and do the work, withsuch assistance as you girls may wish to give her."

  It was amazing, but very delightful. "Why, Ruth-_ie_!" cried Agnes,when they were alone, fairly dancing around her sister. "Do yousuppose we are really going to be _rich_?"

  To Ruth's mind a very little more than enough for actual necessitieswas wealth for the Kenways! She felt as though it were too good to betrue. To lay down the burden of responsibilities which she had carriedfor two years----well! it was a heavenly thought!

  Milton was a beautiful old town, with well shaded streets, and greenlawns. People seemed to have plenty of leisure to chat and besociable; they did not rush by you without a look, or a word, as theyhad in Bloomingsburg.

  "So, you're the Corner House girls, are you? Do tell!" said one oldlady on Willow Street, who stopped the Kenway sisters the first timethey all trooped to Sunday School.

  "Let's see; _you_ favor your father's folks," she added, pinchingAgnes' plump cheek. "I remember Leonard Kenway very well indeed. Hebroke a window for me once--years ago, when he was a boy.

  "I didn't know who did it. But Lenny Kenway never could keep anythingto himself, and he came to me and owned up. Paid for it, too, byhelping saw my winter's wood," and the old lady laughed gently.

  "I'm Mrs. Adams. Come and see me, Corner House girls," she concluded,looking after them rather wistfully. "It's been many a day since I hadyoung folks in my house."

  Already Agnes had become acquainted with a few of the storekeepers,for she had done the errands since their arrival in Milton. Now theywere welcomed by the friendly Sabbath School teachers and soon felt athome. Agnes quickly fell in love with a bronze haired girl with browneyes, who sat next to her in class. This was Eva Larry, and Aggieconfided to Ruth that she was "just lovely."

  They all, even the little girls, strolled about the paths of theparade ground before returning home. This seemed to be the usualSunday afternoon promenade of Milton folk. Several people stopped theCorner House girls (as they were already known) and spoke kindly tothem.

  Although Leonard Kenway and Julia Stower had moved away from Miltonimmediately upon their marriage, and that had been eighteen yearsbefore, many of the residents of Milton remembered the sisters'parents, and the Corner House girls were welcomed for those parents'sake.

  "We certainly shall come and call on you," said the minister's wife,who was a lovely lady, Ruth thought. "It is a blessing to have youngfolk about that gloomy old house."

  "Oh! we don't think it gloomy at all," laughed Ruth.

  When the lady had gone on, the Larry girl said to Agnes: "I thinkyou're awfully brave. _I_ wouldn't live in the Old Corner House forworlds."

  "Why not?" asked Agnes, puzzled. "I guess you don't know how nice itis inside."

  "I wouldn't care if it was carpeted with velvet and you ate off ofsolid gold dishes!" exclaimed Eva Larry, with emphasis.

  "Oh, Eva! you won't even come to see us?"

  "Of course I shall. I like you. And I think you are awfully plucky tolive there----"

  "What for? What's the matter with the house?" demanded Agnes, inwonder.

  "Why, they say such things about it. You've heard them, of course?"

  "Surely you're not afraid of it because old Uncle Peter died there?"

  "Oh, no! It began long before your Uncle Peter died," said Eva,lowering her voice. "Do you mean to say that Mr. Howbridge--nor_anybody_--has not told you about it?"

  "Goodness me! No!" cried Agnes. "You give me the shivers."

  "I should think you would shiver, you poor dear," said Eva, clutchingat Aggie's arm. "You oughtn't to be allowed to go there to live. Mymother says so herself. She said she thought Mr. Howbridge ought to beashamed of himself----"

  "But what _for_?" cried the startled Agnes. "What's the matter withthe house?"

  "Why, it's haunted!" declared Eva, solemnl
y. "Didn't you ever hearabout the Corner House Ghost?"

  "Oh, Eva!" murmured Agnes. "You are fooling me."

  "No, Ma'am! I'm not."

  "A--a ghost?"

  "Yes. Everybody knows about it. It's been there for years."

  "But--but we haven't seen it."

  "You wouldn't likely see it--yet. Unless it was the other night whenthe wind blew so hard. It comes only in a storm."

  "What! the ghost?"

  "Yes. In a big storm it is always seen looking out of the windows."

  "Goodness!" whispered Agnes. "What windows?"

  "In the garret. I believe that's where it is always seen. And, ofcourse, it is seen from outside. When there is a big wind blowing,people coming across the parade here, or walking on this side ofWillow Street, have looked up there and seen the ghost fluttering andbeckoning at the windows----"

  "How horrid!" gasped Agnes. "Oh, Eva! are you _sure_?"

  "I never saw it," confessed the other. "But I know all about it. Sodoes my mother. She says it's true."

  "Mercy! And in the daytime?"

  "Sometimes at night. Of course, I suppose it can be seen at nightbecause it is phosphorescent. All ghosts are, aren't they?"

  "I--I never saw one," quavered Agnes. "And I don't want to."

  "Well, that's all about it," said Eva, with confidence. "And Iwouldn't live in the house with a ghost for anything!"

  "But we've _got_ to," wailed Agnes. "We haven't any other place tolive."

  "It's dreadful," sympathized the other girl. "I'll ask my mother. Ifyou are dreadfully frightened about it, I'll see if you can't come andstay with us."

  This was very kind of Eva, Agnes thought. The story of the CornerHouse Ghost troubled the twelve-year-old very much. She dared not sayanything before Tess and Dot about it, but she told the whole story toRuth that night, after they were in bed and supposed the little girlsto be asleep.

  "Why, Aggie," said Ruth, calmly, "I don't think there _are_ anyghosts. It's just foolish talk of foolish people."

  "Eva says her mother _knows_ it's true. People have seen it."

  "Up in our garret?"

  "Ugh! In the garret of this old house--yes," groaned Agnes. "Don'tcall it _our_ house. I guess I don't like it much, after all."

  "Why, Aggie! How ungrateful."

  "I don't care. For all of me, Uncle Peter could have kept his oldhouse, if he was going to leave a ghost in the garret."

  "Hush! the children will hear you," whispered Ruth.