Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631) by Jack Wolf

Chamber, in which I had spent many happy Houres in mine Infancy, was a peaceful Spot, directly above my Father’s Library and well away from the Traffick of the House, and but one Staircase from my Bedchamber; and for a few Months after my Mother’s Death, after my Father had the Room shuttered and the Door locked, I had sometimes crept out of my Bed and curled up in the Hallway against the old Wood.
    To my Amazement, in View of the Insight I had experienced into her Character regarding me, Mrs H. refused even to consider it. Seeing that I had to let my sick Cat yowl, I threw My Self into a methodic Fit of Melancholy that lasted for a Sennight. This proved efficacious; Mrs H. agreed at least to ask my Father’s Permission to give the Key into mine Hand. He refused.
    I was very annoyed by this second, more significant, Denial. I began to ponder whether I aught to make direct Application to my Father for the Key, but the Infrequency and Coldness of our Dealings made me reluctant to speak to him upon anything at all.I therefore decided to cultivate my Sister’s Approval and Assistance. Jane had always been our Father’s Favourite.
    I dedicated August to Jane’s Society and Comfort, and to my Delight, this Method too met with general Success. At the end of the Month I applied to her, as subtily as I could, to ask our Father for the Key to our Mother’s Room for me.
    “Dearest Sister,” I said, “you know how our Father’s Intractability in this Matter of his Grief causes unpleasant Comment among our Acquaintances. I think ’tis Time for him to shew some proper Sensitivity to your Position. It will not do, dear Jane, to have him appear at your Wedding like an antient Crow, casting a Shaddowe over all our Merriment.”
    Jane seemed convinced—and a little upset, though she tried not to shew it. “I believe,” she said, “’twill be best if I ask our Aunt to speak on your Behalf—then it shall seem the Idea comes from her. He hath always been better inclined to listen to her than to me.”
    So Jane prevailed upon our Aunt, and that redoubtable Woman went to my Father with the Suggestion that he should at last give over his interminable Mourning and surrender my Mother’s sitting Room to me. Jane and I followed in secret, and waited, Ears presst to our Father’s library Door, for his Reaction.
    “Young Master Hart,” said mine Aunt, forcefully, “is grown into as respectful and as excellent a Son as anyone could wish; and that you don’t see it, John, is your Folly. He hath put all his wicked Ways behind him—” (I blinked) “—and I am sure he is intirely deserving of his own Chambers.”
    My Father muttered something that I could not catch.
    “Eugenia is dead!” Aunt Barnaby retorted. “Dead and gone to Heaven, God rest her Soule, these ten Yeares; and I can tell you,Brother, she would never want to think that you would deny her Son and spoil her Daughter’s Wedding for her Memory’s Sake.”
    A second indistinguishable Response from my Father.
    “How now?” shouted mine Aunt. “Not spoiled? I am surprized your Children can stand to be seen in Church with you at all, still in your Black whilst they are all in blue and grey. Enough is enough! Master Hart is out of Mourning, and so should you be! Let him have the Key. Call your Taylor and have him sew you something chearful in brown or burgundy!”
    A muttered Answer, followed by a very long Pause.
    “Well!” said mine Aunt at last. She sounded, to mine Ears at least, still surprized. “I am grateful to think that you are shewing a little Sense at last, John. The Room will need clearing out, and re-furnishing to a Gentleman’s Taste. The Lady’s Furniture that is there will do very well for Jane.”
    I smiled at Jane, delighted. She smiled back, and unexpectedly caught Hold of my right Hand in her own and lightly squeezed it. A long Second passed; then Noises within my Father’s Study alerted both of us to Aunt Barnaby’s Re-appearance. We