I thought a great deal those days. Thought is almost forced upon you, if you aren’t a social success, or can’t play baseball. You see, in such case, there is nothing to divert you and keep you from reflection. So, I thought. I also wrote home often and sent Willy Jepson post-cards, because he sent me one of the gaol2, on which he had written: “My room is marked with a cross.” (There was a cross over the only window that is barred.) And he also sent me a picture of Miss Hooker, taken, I imagine, in 1892, on which he had written: “She has consented to be mine! Sweet love has bloomed within my heart at last!” But I knew he got that out of a book, because it didn’t sound like Willy. Those, with a letter from Uncle Frank, which contained much information about the larv? of the bee, cheered me greatly. The letter sounded so like Uncle Frank that all I had to do was to shut my eyes, and then I could hear him “Ho hum.” And I did that quite a good deal as I re-read his letter.
That week was, I found afterward3, a normal week for my aunt and cousins and uncle, but it seemed frightfully hurried to me. Everyone had decided4 that I had been choked and chloroformed by a sneak5 thief, and after uncle muttered about speaking to the building’s owner about the fire-escapes, and aunt’s warning Ito and Jane about the pantry window, and one of mine (which opens on an iron balcony, as does one of Amy’s), everyone forgot the episode. It seemed Evelyn once lost a fur coat that way, and that upstairs thieving was not uncommon6. But I knew they were wrong. However, nothing strengthened my belief until the event which came in the first part of the following week. But that comes later.
As I said, the week dragged by. I lived through it very slowly (it is strange how time is affected8 by the way YOU feel, isn’t it?), and at last it was Friday.
My aunt was going out to a luncheon9, and because I had been alone all morning and wanted company, I followed her to the hall, and there we found Mr. Kempwood’s letter.
“My dear,” said Aunt Penelope, “what a stunning10 hand, and what a charming shade for letter paper. . . . For you. Do let’s see whom it’s from.”
I opened it, feeling excited. It was from Mr. Kempwood, and he asked if I would come down and have tea with him at four o’clock on Saturday, and he said that if I liked we would afterward take a drive. My aunt said I most certainly could, and then she kissed me with unusual interest, and left. And I took the letter and read it three more times, especially the end, where he had written: “And it is with genuine pleasure and great pride, my dear Miss Natalie, that I sign myself your friend, Samuel Kempwood.” I did like that!
Well, I went in my room, and thought about all the things I would wear, and I hoped so much that my aunt would let me wear my pink dress, but she didn’t. However, I had such a good time that my disappointment was soon forgotten. I decided I would wear my jewellery, which consists of the Jumel bracelet11 and a ring with a silver skull12 on it which Willy Jepson gave me.
I thought my tam would be best for motoring, because it sticks on and Mr. Kempwood likes it. And I meant to accept that part of the invitation very hard, because I love it, and there never seems to be enough room in aunt’s motor. Everyone is always sorry, but someone else always has to go. Amy has so many friends that it is difficult to pay them all sufficient attention. This week she took them motoring each morning--different sets--and deeply regretted she couldn’t take me. But I understood how it was, and said so. I tried to make her just as comfortable as I could about it. They are all being very kind to me.
That night Evelyn had dinner at home; Uncle Archie was there too, and it might have been nice if they’d acted so. But aunt sighed a great deal and said Evelyn needed a new fur coat and that there was a beauty on Fifth Avenue for only twenty-two hundred (and she made a long lecture about getting good things when you bought, because they lasted and it really was an economy), and then Amy began to whine13 and say that if Evelyn had a new coat she didn’t see why she, Amy, couldn’t have one, and that she felt like a pauper14 when she went to school. I felt sorry for Uncle Archie. He didn’t seem to mind, but I think it must have bothered him. After he said “Huh” a few times he turned to me and really spoke15 to me for the first time.
“What do you want?” he asked. “Must want something.”
But I said I didn’t. And I added that I was grateful for all the lovely things aunt had bought me. I told him that they were beautiful. He looked at me hard, said “Huh!” and went on eating.
Then I asked aunt if I could wear the pink dress to Mr. Kempwood’s party.
“Mr. Kempwood’s?” echoed Evelyn, and she did not seem pleased when her mother told her about it. “I think that’s very kind of him,” she said, after her mother finished.
Uncle Archie went out after dinner, and Evelyn went to a dance with some friends at about nine; and Aunt Penelope, sighing and saying thank Heaven she actually had an evening free, wrote a lot of notes, and telephoned friends, making engagements for all the evenings of the next week.
Amy and I went to bed at nine-thirty because we are supposed to at nine. Amy sleeps with me now, because she thinks I may be frightened. At least, that is what she says, but I, privately16, think she is scared to be alone. However, that is not vital. After we got in bed Amy told me that lots of men had proposed to Evelyn, but that she had “scorned them all.” However, she said that there was a man in the next house whom Evelyn really liked.
“She’s dippy about him,” Amy said. “You can see it. They both simper and act silly when they meet, and they have a basket strung between the houses on a wire (you know they’re ever so close), and they pass notes that way!”
“Honestly?” I said. It didn’t sound like Evelyn. She seems too hard for anything romantic.
“Honestly,” Amy assured me. “She doesn’t think anyone will notice the wire, and the basket is hidden under her window-box.”
“I see,” I said, and I did. There are flower-boxes on the outsides of a good many of the windows. It would be easy enough to manage to make one a garage for her basket mail-carrier, if she wanted to.
“She’d die if anyone knew it,” Amy confided17. “It would fuss her. . . . I just can’t imagine Evelyn mooning around in the dark, waiting for that basket to slide across. I’m dying to get one of those notes.”
“Wouldn’t it be funny to fill that basket full of cold flour paste,” I said. “Just think how she’d jump, if she slid her hand in it--up to the wrist.”
“Of course not,” I said, adding: “She couldn’t tell on us, either.”
“No,” said Amy. “But we mustn’t let that influence us. Where could we get the paste?”
I suggested that we ask the cook to let us make candy Saturday night. Then we giggled a good deal. And after that Amy said “darn” awfully19 hard, and got out of bed growling20 and fussing terribly, for she’d forgotten to say her prayers.
The next morning when I got up I found my bracelet was gone, and I was upset by it, and disappointed, because I had wanted to wear it down to Mr. Kempwood’s. I decided to ask Madam Jumel to return it again, although the recollection of the way it came back before made me so frightened that my palms grew damp, even though my hands were cold. But I did want it. Even at that time I had made up my mind I would win. For Madam Jumel had given it to us; it was ours, and she had no right to make everyone miserable21.
So--at about three-thirty I went over to the Jumel Mansion22. I asked which room Madam Jumel slept in, this time, and they told me. I went up to stand at the door. Some visitors went past me talking of the room where Lafayette had slept and of Washington’s bedroom, but neither Washington nor Lafayette interested me that day.
“You know,” I whispered, “it isn’t fair. You gave it to her, and since you did----” And then I stopped, for one of the curators came by and heard me.
“Absorbing the habit from one of the old mistresses?” he asked. I didn’t know what he meant, and he explained. It seemed Madam Jumel’s mind had wavered as she grew older, and she did strange things, among them--talking to herself of the great people she had entertained and the power she had been.
“Absolutely mad,” said the gentleman, whom I had come to know well in those few visits. “Why, she employed a lot of French refugees who were out of work and would take any--starving, I suppose--brought them up here, and drilled them as her army. Boys who were fishing on the other side of the river would look up to see the old woman heading a little crowd of ragged7 men, who carried sticks for guns. She always rode a horse, sitting erect23, and now and again they said she would turn proudly to survey her troops. . . . She was a queer one. . . . They say”--he paused and looked in the room--“that she haunts this room. I don’t believe in such things, but her relatives who lived here afterward (three families, they were) swore that she came back to rap so hard that the walls shook. . . . They all quarrelled, and none spoke to each other; but having no money, while they waited for the will to be settled, they lived here; the Nelson Chase family, the Will Chase family, and the Pérys. The Chases were her nephews, Mrs. Péry her niece. Mademoiselle Nitschke, the governess of small Mathilde Péry, did not believe in ghosts, but--one night even she was convinced. . . . You’ll find all that story in a book called ‘The Jumel Mansion,’ which Mr. William Henry Shelton, whom you have seen here, wrote.”
I hunted Mr. Shelton, and he showed me this. I won’t quote it entire, but only in part. It is in his book, as Mademoiselle Nitschke told it.
“I came to live at the Mansion three years after Madam Jumel died, or about 1868. My room was on the third floor. . . . After a little time I was moved down to the Lafayette Room, to be nearer Mrs. Péry, who was in nightly terror of the ghost of Madam Jumel, which, she claimed, came with terrible rappings between twelve and one o’clock, or about midnight.
“Mrs. Péry would come to my room in the night in great excitement to escape the ghost. . . . One night she insisted on my coming to their bedroom and awaiting the ghost. I had always told them there was no such thing as a ghost.
“On that particular night the trouble began as early as seven o’clock in the evening. They had just come up from supper when Mrs. Péry rushed into the hall, trembling with fright and calling: ‘Mademoiselle!’ . . . At about that same time, probably hearing cries, Mr. Péry came up the stairs from the kitchen where he had been toasting cheese. He disliked to sleep in the room in question, claiming that Madam Jumel had come to the side of his bed in white. . . .”
And she described it quite a while. Mademoiselle Nitschke said it was a very quiet September night and hardly a leaf stirred. . . . She said they all sat in absolute silence, and things seemed to grow even more still as midnight approached. . . . And when it came, a loud rap, such as a wooden mallet24 might make, came directly under Mr. Péry’s chair--“From which,” she said, “he leaped as if he had been shot. . . .” And I, for one, don’t blame him. . . . Well, then Mademoiselle, who must have been very brave, asked if Madam Jumel desired prayers said for her, and Madam replied with three knocks, which is knock-language for yes.
Mr. Shelton told me more. And I enjoyed it so much. But--I could not understand it, and it made me feel creepy. I think it is pleasanter not to believe in ghosts.
After this, since it was getting late, I went downstairs and stood before the portrait. And here I again asked for my bracelet. It seemed to me the portrait smiled--unpleasantly, but I suppose that was only my imagination. For when you are nervous, you cannot tell what you see, or what you don’t. And the real becomes hazy25 and the unreal real. I was glad to go to Mr. Kempwood’s. But I will tell about that later.
That night the bracelet came back.
Amy slept with me, and we were ready to sleep, having worked very hard to make flour paste of the right consistency26. It had to be sloppy27, and so that it wouldn’t harden when cold. We also had to arrange an inner holder28 for it, since the basket was not built to hold juice. We didn’t get started undressing until ten, and Jane, who is supposed to remind us of bedtime, became very disagreeable. But we ignored her and didn’t let her irritate us. We fixed29 a heavy paper inside to the basket and then poured the stuff in, and then Amy pulled it halfway30 out on the line, so that Evelyn would think he’d started something. We put ice in it, and it began to feel far from pleasant. We both tried it. “Sort of like cold frogs--mashed,” said Amy, which was an admirable description.
Then after this we went to bed. We decided we needn’t stay awake, for we felt sure that Evelyn would yell. And she did, but that comes later.
I didn’t go to sleep early. I have not since the bracelet was first returned. And the consciousness that it might come back again, in the same way, made me lie awake and feel gaspy. So--when I heard a little noise I was not surprised. . . . Our door was open a little way, and there was a noise at this. . . . Then a scratching noise by my bedside (the bed head is by the door). . . . In the tiniest light something glittered and made a bright point SLOWLY MOVING ACROSS THE FLOOR. . . . I struggled up, and somehow found my searchlight. . . . Swallowing hard and feeling sick, I pressed it. The Jumel bracelet lay one yard inside the door on the floor. . . . It was the glitter on the gold that had let me see it, as it moved.
It had come back again.
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1
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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2
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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3
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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5
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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6
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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7
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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8
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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9
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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10
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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11
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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12
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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13
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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14
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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15
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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16
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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17
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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18
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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21
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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23
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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24
mallet
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| n.槌棒 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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26
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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27
sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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28
holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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29
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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