Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-05-20
IN A HAUNTED HOUSE.
BY E. F. SPENCER.

close London home, Hilda, Gervase, and
longed for a change to the country.
We studied long lists of advertisements
daily in vain; they were all entirely 100
dear.
One morning my brother looked up from
his paper at the breakfast table, ana ex-
claimed
ssHere it is, girls! An earthly paradise
And for three months, rent free, and every
thingp
I He read out the description.
'The Glass House, in Midlandshire, the
property of gentleman resident OF the
Continent" =
The house would be let, or rather, the
left wing of the house would be let, rent
free, for three months, to any respectable
tenant, who would undertake to care for
the shut up-rooms, reserved by the family
esRent freer' said Hilda. who, though an
artist by profession, like our brother Ger
vase, is practical little body. eThere
must be something very wrong about the
place.
''Shall we go and find out what it is, and
earn the lifelong gratitude of the gentle
man on the Continent by putting it to
rights?' asked Gervase.
Yes, Hilda and I were wild to 60 to the
place.
And we gave Gervase no peace until he
set out for the office of the solicitor, whose
address appeared in the advertisement
He came back home in time for luncheon.
SIT is a case of ghosts" he declared
solemnly.
"Ghosts! What nonsense" exclaimed
Hilda.
81 am sure of it, by the way in which
that lawyer stammered and hesitated over
the business The house belongs to Sir
Rufus Saxon and bears a queer name; in
short, is said to be haunted.
"When the lawyer heard there were la
dies in the case his long face grew longer
STILL"
''He thought we ought to have man.
servant with us, as it is a very lonely place.
Where can we find one?''
81 can do that" said 1. "We will take
Mr.. and Mrs. King"
And my brother and sister laughed at
the names.
That evening paid a visit to a small
house in smaller terrace, in the vacinity
of the Kings Road, Chelsea.
There lodged In it working builders
foreman and his second wife, who had been
cook in gentleman's family.
The man, improvident, like too many of
his kind, made no provision for the ''rainy
day." which had lately come upon him in
the shape of a severe injury to his right
hand.
The woman, who had bestowed herself
and her savings upon him IN an hour of
infatuation, was infatuated still, and was
secretly jealous of his daughter, and also
of all the relatives of his deceased wife.
Possibly her jealousy was not always un-
founded, for he was goodlooking, and was
made much Of by the damsels of their ac-
quaintance.
They gladly accepted the temporary
situation l had come to offer.
Mrs. King detained me in the passage
when l was leaving.
'1'm sure, Miss A., I shall be for ever
grateful to you for thinking of US" she
said, with an apprehensive glance at the
parlor door, ''Words can't express how I
am worried between his being out of work
and them hussies that are always running
after a handsome man like him Not to
speak of his sisters and his young married
daughter who are always dropping in pro-
miscuous just to pick holes in the way l
manage.
s'We will be at the station to meet you
any day you name, miss, and glad and
thankful shall be to CO."
Poor Eliza King!
1t really seemed cruel to smile over her
troubles as I made my way home.
Her husband, who was about forty,
slightly younger than she was, and gay in
manner, might try her.
But she had warm, true heart, and all
the elements of tragedy as well as of COM
edy were sheltered in that humble home at
Chelsea.
Some days LATER our party of five alight-
ed at DulwOrth station beneath cold grey
sky.
The station was an uncovered platform,
with box at one end where lamps and
stray luggage were kept in company with
a melancholy porter.
He opened his eyes wide when we in
quired how we were to reach "The Glass
House"
Just then the station-master emerged
from small room at the other end of the
platform.
He, too, seemed struck dumb by the
question.
"You should have looked for Dulford
instead of Dulworth," he said, at last.
''The Glass House is three miles from here
by the road, and less than two by the field
path"
"But, if you'll excuse me, sir" he ad-
ded, turning to Gervase, 81 wouldn't take
ladies there with the night coming on; |
wouldn't, indeed. 1t is not a fit place for
Christians to 60 to; that's the truth about
the old house."
"We have come down to live in it, and
make it fit for Christians" :" replied Gervase,
suppressing a laugh. eff you can get a
cart for the servants and the luggage, we
will walk the field way"
The station-master possessed a cart and a
pony.
There was nobody to drive it, except his
brother.
His brother was aff1icted-in fact, he was
deaf and dumb.
@sThe very thing" said Gervase aside to
us. Gle cannot frighten John King and
his wife by telling tales to them on the
way"
We waited to see them off, and then
started ourselves.
In the short lane, after emerging from
the last field, we met the cart returning
home.
The deaf and dumb driver pointed back
to the tall iron gates Of the park, and
shook his head frowningly.
Turning back to look, we saw him stand
ing up in the cart to watch us as we entered.
Gervase locked the gates behind us and
pocketed the key.
Then he stretched up his long arm-he
was unusually tall and thin-and unhung
the huge changing bell setting it down un-
der the high hedge, where it would not be
seen.
"We have hamper of provisions with
US, girls" he said; ''for a day or two we
will shut out the world and it's gossips, and
find out the bearings of the place for our
selves. Eh, Kate?"
eyes" 1 answered approvingly. ''It
would not do to let Mrs. King be frighten-
ed at the onset; she might be even more
scared than she is at her husbands ad-
mirers."
We passed up long and very wide ave-
nue., shaded by double row of splendid
elms.
At it's end the road swept round spa
cious lawn to a terrace with marble vases
and marble steps.
The vases, the steps, and the second
flight leading to the double-leaved hall
door were thickly overgrown with moss.
Beyond the lawn on the right dark lake
extended into wood that was darker
| still