breaking behind the church.
“I’ve had a rather bad night,” said Alice. “But it has been quiet, hasn’t it? Except for the door, of course.”
“Quiet enough,” said Curtis grimly. “Our ghost has amused himself with a nice, quiet job. Ravelling out Lucia’s afghan. Miss Harper, I am at my wit’s end.”
“It must be Julia who has done this. She was very sulky all day yesterday. Lucia had scolded her about something. This is her revenge.”
“It couldn’t be Julia. She went home for the night. But I’m going to make one last effort. You said once, I remember, that an idea had occurred to you. What was the idea?”
Alice made a restless gesture with her hands.
“And I also said that it was too incredible to be put into words. I repeat that. If it has never occurred to you yourself I will not utter it.”
“It ... it is not Long Alec?”
“Long Alec? Absurd.”
He could not move her and he went back to his own room with his head in a whirl.
“There are only two things I am sure of,” he said, as he watched the beginnings of sunrise. “Twice two are four ... and I’m going to marry Lucia.”
Lucia, it developed, had a different opinion. When Curtis asked her to be his wife she told him that it was utterly impossible.
“Why? Don’t you ... can’t you care for me? I am sure I could make you happy.”
Lucia looked at him with a deepening colour.
“I could ... yes, I could. I owe it to you to tell you that. And there is no use denying it ... one should never deny the truth. But as things are I cannot marry ... you must see that for yourself. I cannot leave Alec and Alice.”
“Alice could come with us. I would be very glad to have such a woman in my home. She would be a constant inspiration to me.”
Which was, perhaps, not the most tactful thing in the world for a wooer to say!
“No. Such an arrangement would not be fair to you. You do not know ...”
It was useless to plead or argue, although Curtis did both. Lucia was a Field, Mrs. Blythe told him, when he carried his woes to her.
“And to think ... if it were not for me,” said Alice bitterly.
“It isn’t only you ... I have told you how glad I would be to have you with us. No, it is just as much Alec ... and those infernal spooks.”
“S-sh ... don’t let Deacon Kirk ... or Mr. Sheldon hear you,” said Alice whimsically. “They would both think ‘infernal’ a most improper word for a minister to use outside of the pulpit. I’m sorry, Mr. Burns ... sorry for you and sorrier for Lucia. I’m afraid she won’t change her mind. We Fields do not, when we have once made it up. Your only hope is to run the ghost to earth.”
Nobody, it seemed, could do that. Curtis bitterly owned himself defeated. Two weeks of moonlit and peaceful nights followed. Mr. Sheldon was again away. When the dark nights returned the manifestations began anew.
This time Curtis seemed to have become the special object of the “ha’nt’s” hatred. Repeatedly he found his sheets wet or well sanded when he got into bed at night. Twice on going to don his ministerial suit on Sunday mornings he found all the buttons cut off. And the special anniversary sermon he had prepared with such care vanished from his desk Saturday night before he had time to memorize it. As a result he made rather a mess of things before a crowded church next day and was young and human enough to feel bitterly about it.
“You’d better go away, Mr. Burns,” advised Alice. “That is unselfish advice if ever any was given, for I shall miss you more than words can say. But you must. Mr. Sheldon told me so and I have heard that Dr. Blythe says it is your only chance. You haven’t Lucia’s phlegm or Alec’s stubbornness ... or even my faith in a locked door. They won’t leave you alone now they have begun on you. Look how they have persecuted Lucia for years.”
“I can’t go away and leave her in such a predicament,” said Curtis stubbornly.
“I believe you are as
“I’ve had a rather bad night,” said Alice. “But it has been quiet, hasn’t it? Except for the door, of course.”
“Quiet enough,” said Curtis grimly. “Our ghost has amused himself with a nice, quiet job. Ravelling out Lucia’s afghan. Miss Harper, I am at my wit’s end.”
“It must be Julia who has done this. She was very sulky all day yesterday. Lucia had scolded her about something. This is her revenge.”
“It couldn’t be Julia. She went home for the night. But I’m going to make one last effort. You said once, I remember, that an idea had occurred to you. What was the idea?”
Alice made a restless gesture with her hands.
“And I also said that it was too incredible to be put into words. I repeat that. If it has never occurred to you yourself I will not utter it.”
“It ... it is not Long Alec?”
“Long Alec? Absurd.”
He could not move her and he went back to his own room with his head in a whirl.
“There are only two things I am sure of,” he said, as he watched the beginnings of sunrise. “Twice two are four ... and I’m going to marry Lucia.”
Lucia, it developed, had a different opinion. When Curtis asked her to be his wife she told him that it was utterly impossible.
“Why? Don’t you ... can’t you care for me? I am sure I could make you happy.”
Lucia looked at him with a deepening colour.
“I could ... yes, I could. I owe it to you to tell you that. And there is no use denying it ... one should never deny the truth. But as things are I cannot marry ... you must see that for yourself. I cannot leave Alec and Alice.”
“Alice could come with us. I would be very glad to have such a woman in my home. She would be a constant inspiration to me.”
Which was, perhaps, not the most tactful thing in the world for a wooer to say!
“No. Such an arrangement would not be fair to you. You do not know ...”
It was useless to plead or argue, although Curtis did both. Lucia was a Field, Mrs. Blythe told him, when he carried his woes to her.
“And to think ... if it were not for me,” said Alice bitterly.
“It isn’t only you ... I have told you how glad I would be to have you with us. No, it is just as much Alec ... and those infernal spooks.”
“S-sh ... don’t let Deacon Kirk ... or Mr. Sheldon hear you,” said Alice whimsically. “They would both think ‘infernal’ a most improper word for a minister to use outside of the pulpit. I’m sorry, Mr. Burns ... sorry for you and sorrier for Lucia. I’m afraid she won’t change her mind. We Fields do not, when we have once made it up. Your only hope is to run the ghost to earth.”
Nobody, it seemed, could do that. Curtis bitterly owned himself defeated. Two weeks of moonlit and peaceful nights followed. Mr. Sheldon was again away. When the dark nights returned the manifestations began anew.
This time Curtis seemed to have become the special object of the “ha’nt’s” hatred. Repeatedly he found his sheets wet or well sanded when he got into bed at night. Twice on going to don his ministerial suit on Sunday mornings he found all the buttons cut off. And the special anniversary sermon he had prepared with such care vanished from his desk Saturday night before he had time to memorize it. As a result he made rather a mess of things before a crowded church next day and was young and human enough to feel bitterly about it.
“You’d better go away, Mr. Burns,” advised Alice. “That is unselfish advice if ever any was given, for I shall miss you more than words can say. But you must. Mr. Sheldon told me so and I have heard that Dr. Blythe says it is your only chance. You haven’t Lucia’s phlegm or Alec’s stubbornness ... or even my faith in a locked door. They won’t leave you alone now they have begun on you. Look how they have persecuted Lucia for years.”
“I can’t go away and leave her in such a predicament,” said Curtis stubbornly.
“I believe you are as
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