EVALINA SMITH was a morbid1 young person who loved to dabble2 in the supernatural. Her taste in literature was for Edgar A. Poe. In religion she inclined toward spiritualism. Her favorite amusement was to gather a few shuddering4 friends about her, turn out the gas, and tell ghost stories. She had an extensive repertoire5 of ghoulish incidents, that were not fiction but the actual experience of people she knew. She had even had one or two spiritual adventures herself; and she would set forth6 the details with wide eyes and lowered voice, while her auditors7 held one another's hands and[274] shivered. The circle in which Evalina moved had not much sense of humor.
One Saturday evening St. Ursula's School was in an unusually social mood. Evalina was holding a ghost party in her room in the East Wing; Nancy Lee had invited her ten dearest friends to a birthday spread in Center; the European History class was celebrating the completion of the Thirty-Years War by a molasses-candy pull in the kitchen; and Kid McCoy was conducting a potato race down the length of the South Corridor—the entrance fee a postage stamp, the prize sealed up in a large bandbox and warranted to be worth a quarter.
Patty, who was popular, had been invited to all four of the functions. She had declined Nancy's spread, because Mae Van Arsdale, her particular enemy, was invited; but had accepted the other invitations, and was busily spending the evening as an itinerant8 guest.
She carried her potato, insecurely balanced on a teaspoon9, over one table and under another, through a hoop10 suspended from the[275] ceiling, and deposited it in the wastebasket at the end of the corridor, in exactly two minutes and forty-seven seconds. (Kid McCoy had a stop-watch.) This was far ahead of anyone else's record, and Patty lingered hopefully a few minutes in the neighborhood of the bandbox; but a fresh inrush of entries postponed12 the bestowal13 of the prize, so she left the judges to settle the question at their leisure, and drifted on to Evalina's room.
She found it dark, except for the fitful blue flare14 of alcohol and salt burning in a fudge pan. The guests were squatting15 about on sofa cushions, looking decidedly spotty in the unbecoming light. Patty silently dropped down on a vacant cushion, and lent polite attention to Evalina, who at the moment held the floor.
"Well, you know, I had a very remarkable17 experience myself last summer. Happening to visit a spiritualist camp, I attended a materializing séance."
"What's that?" asked Rosalie Patton.
"A séance in which spirits appear to mediums in the material form they occupied dur[276]ing life," Evalina condescendingly explained. Rosalie was merely an invited guest. She did not belong to the inner cult18.
"I didn't really expect anything to happen," Evalina continued, "and I was just thinking how foolish I was to have wasted that dollar, when the medium shut her eyes and commenced to tremble. She said she saw the spirit of a beautiful young girl who had passed over five years before. The girl was dressed in white and her clothes were dripping wet, and she carried in her hand a monkey-wrench20."
"A monkey-wrench!" cried Patty. "What on earth—"
"I don't know any more than you do," said Evalina impatiently. "I'm just telling what happened. The Medium couldn't get her full name, but she said her first name commenced with 'S.' And instantly, it came over me that it was my Cousin Susan who fell into a well and was drowned. I hadn't thought of her for years, but the description answered perfectly21. And I asked the me[277]dium, and after a little, she said yes, it was Susan, and that she had come to send me a warning."
Evalina allowed an impressive pause to follow, while her auditors leaned forward in strained attention.
"A warning!" breathed Florence Hissop.
"Yes. She told me never to eat lemon pie."
Patty choked with sudden laughter. Evalina cast her a look and went on.
"The medium shivered again and came out of the trance, and she couldn't remember a thing she had said! When I told her about the monkey-wrench and the lemon pie, she was just as much puzzled as I was. She said that the messages that came from the spirit world were often inexplicable22; though they might seem to deal with trivial things, yet in reality they contained a deep and hidden truth. Probably some day I would have an enemy who would try to poison me with lemon pie, and I must never, on any account, taste it again."
"And haven't you?" Patty asked.[278]
"Never," said Evalina sadly.
"Do you think the medium told the truth?"
"I've never had any cause to doubt it."
"Then you really believe in ghosts?"
"In spirits?" Evalina amended24 gently. "Many strange things happen that cannot be explained in any other manner."
"What would you do if her spirit should appear to you? Would you be scared?"
"Certainly not!" said Evalina, with dignity. "I was very fond of Cousin Susan. I have no cause to fear her spirit."
The smell of boiling molasses penetrated25 from below; Patty excused herself and turned toward the kitchen. The spiritual heights on which Evalina dwelt, she found a trifle too rare for ordinary breathing.
The candy was on the point of being poured into pans.
"Here, Patty!" Priscilla ordered, "you haven't done any work. Run down to the[279] storeroom and get some butter to keep our hands from sticking."
Patty obligingly accompanied the cook to the cellar, with not a thought in the world beyond butter. On a shelf in the storeroom stood to-morrow's dessert—a row of fifteen lemon pies, with neatly26 decorated tops of white meringue. As Patty looked at them, she was suddenly assailed27 by a wicked temptation; she struggled with it for a moment of sanity28, but in the end she fell. While Nora's head was bent29 over the butter tub, Patty opened the window and deftly30 plumped a pie through the iron grating onto the ledge31 without. By the time Nora raised her head, the window was shut again, and Patty was innocently translating the label on a bottle of olive oil.
As they pulled their candy in a secluded32 corner of the kitchen, Patty hilariously33 confided34 her plan to Conny and Priscilla. Conny was always game for whatever mischief35 was afoot, but Priscilla sometimes needed urging. She was—most inconveniently—beginning[280] to develop a moral nature, and the other two, who as yet were comfortably un-moral, occasionally found her difficult to coerce36.
Priscilla finally lent a grudging37 consent, while Conny enthusiastically volunteered to acquire a monkey-wrench. Being captain of sports, she could manage the matter better than Patty. On a flying visit to the stables, ostensibly to consult with Martin as to a re-marking of the tennis courts, she singled out from his tool bench the monkey-wrench of her choice, casually38 covered it with her sweater, and safely bore it away. She and Patty conveyed their booty by devious39 secret ways to Paradise Alley40. A great many alarms were given on the passage, a great deal of muffled41 giggling42 ensued, but finally the monkey-wrench and the pie—slightly damaged as to its meringue top, but still distinctly recognizable as lemon—were safely cached under Patty's bed to await their part in the night's adventure.
"Lights-out" as usual, rang at nine-thirty, but it rang to deaf ears. A spirit of restless festivity was abroad. The little girls in the[281] "Baby Ward3" larked43 about the halls in a pillow fight, until they were sternly ordered to bed by the Dowager herself. It was close to ten o'clock when the candy-pullers washed their sticky hands and turned upstairs.
Patty found a delegation44 of potato racers waiting with the news that she had won the prize. An interested crowd gathered to watch her open the box; it contained a tin funeral wreath that had been displayed that winter in the window of the village undertaker—Kid had bought it cheap, owing to fly specks45 that would not rub off. The wreath was hoisted46 on the end of a shinny stick and marched through the corridor to the tune47 of "John Brown's Body," while Mademoiselle ineffectually wrung48 her hands and begged for quiet.
"Mes chères enfantes—it is ten o'clock. Soyez tranquilles. Patty—Mon Dieu—How you are bad! Margarite McCoy, you do not listen to me? Nous verrons! Go to your room, dis in-stant! You do not belong in my hall. Children! I implore49. Go to bed—all—tout de suite50!"[282]
The procession cheered and marched on, until Miss Lord descended51 from the East and commanded silence. Miss Lord when incensed52 was effectual. The peace of conquest settled for a time over Paradise Alley, and she returned to her own camp. But a fresh hub-bub broke out, when it was discovered that someone had sprinkled granulated sugar, in liberal quantities, through every bed in the Alley. Patty and Conny would have been suspected, had their own sheets not yielded a plentiful53 harvest. It was another half hour before the beds were remade, and the school finally composed to sleep.
When the teacher on duty had made her last rounds, and everything was quiet, Patty turned back the covers of her bed and cautiously stepped to the floor. She was still fully11 clothed, except that she had changed her shoes for softer soled bedroom slippers54, better fitted for nocturnal adventures. Priscilla and Conny joined her. Fortunately a full moon shone high in the sky, and they needed no artificial light. Aided by her two assistants, Patty draped the sheets of her bed[283] about her into two voluminous wings, and fastened them securely with safety pins. A pillow slip was pulled over her head and the corners tied into ears. They hesitated a moment with scissors suspended.
"Hurry up and cut a nose," Patty whispered. "I'm smothering55!"
"It seems sort of too bad to spoil a perfectly good pillow slip," said Priscilla, with a slight access of conscience.
"I'll drop some money in the missionary56 box," Patty promised.
The nose and eyes were cut; a grinning mouth and devilishly curved eyebrows57 were added with burnt cork58. The pillow slip was tied firmly about her neck to allow no chance of slipping, the ears waved lopsidedly; she was the most amazing specter that ever left a respectable grave.
These preparations had occupied some time. It was already ten minutes of twelve.
"I'll wait till the stroke of midnight," said Patty. "Then I'll flutter into Evalina's room, and wave my wings, and whisper, 'Come!' The monkey-wrench and the[284] pie, I'll leave on the foot of her bed, so she'll know she wasn't dreaming."
"What if she screams?" asked Priscilla.
"She won't scream. She loves ghosts—especially Cousin Susan. She said to-night she'd be glad to meet her."
"But what if she does scream?" persisted Priscilla.
"Oh, that's easy! I'll dash back and pop into bed. Before anybody wakes, I'll be sound asleep."
They made a reconnoitering excursion into the empty corridors to make sure that all was quiet. Only regular breathing issued from open doors. Evalina fortunately lived in a single, but unfortunately, it was at the extreme end of the East Wing in the opposite corner of the building from Patty's own domicile. Conny and Priscilla, in bedroom slippers and kimonos, tiptoed after Patty as she took her flight down the length of the Alley. She sailed back and forth and waved her wings in the moonlight that streamed through the skylight in the central hall. The two spectators clung together and shiv[285]ered delightedly. In spite of having been behind the scenes and assisted at the make-up, they received a distinct sensation—what it would be to one suddenly wakened from sleep, to a believer in ghosts, they were a bit apprehensive59 to consider. At the entrance to the East Wing, they handed Patty her pie and monkey-wrench, and retreated to their own neighborhood. In case of an uproar60, they did not wish to be discovered too far from home.
Patty flitted on down the corridor, past yawning doors, into Evalina's room, where she took up a central position in a patch of moonlight. A few sepulchral61 "Comes!" brought no response. Evalina was a sound sleeper62.
Patty shook the foot of the bed. The sleeper stirred slightly but slept on. This was annoying. The ghost had no mind to make noise enough to disturb the neighbors. She laid the pie and the monkey-wrench on the counterpane, and shook the bed again, with the insistence63 of an earthquake. As she was endeavoring to resume her proper[286]ties, Evalina sat up and clutched the bed clothes about her neck with a frenzied64 jerk. Patty just had time to save the pie—the monkey-wrench went to the floor with a crash; and the crash, to Patty's startled senses, was echoed and intensified65 from far down the hall. She had no chance to wave her wings or murmur66, "Come." Evalina did not wait for her cue. She opened her mouth as wide as it would open, and emitted shriek67 after shriek of such ear-splitting intensity68, that Patty, for a moment, was too aghast to move. Then, still hugging the pie in her arms, she turned and ran.
To her consternation69 the cries were answered ahead. The whole house seemed to be awake and shrieking70. She could hear doors banging and frightened voices demanding the cause of the tumult71. She was making a quick dash for her own room, trusting to the confusion and darkness to make good her escape, when Miss Lord, gaily72 attired73 in a flowered bath-robe, appeared at the end of the corridor. Patty was headed straight[287] for her arms. With a gasp74 of terror, she turned back toward the shrieking Evalina.
She realized by now that she was in a trap.
A narrow passage led from the East Wing to the servants' quarters. She dived into this. If she could reach the back stairs it would mean safety. She pushed the door open a crack, and to her horror, was confronted by a worse uproar. The servants' quarters were in a state of panic. She saw Maggie dashing past, wrapped in a pink striped blanket, while above the general confusion rose Norah's rich brogue:
"Help! Murther! I seen a bur-r-gu-lar!"
She shut the door and shrank back into the passage. Behind her Evalina was still hysterically75 wailing76:
"I saw a ghost! I saw a ghost!"
Before her the cry of "Burglars!" was growing louder.
Utterly77 bewildered at this double demonstration78, Patty flattened79 herself against the[288] wall in the friendly darkness of the passage, while she soulfully thanked Heaven that the proposed electric lights had not yet been installed. A dozen voices were calling for matches, but no one seemed to find any. She pantingly tugged80 at the pillowcase fastened about her neck; but Conny had tied it firmly with a white hair ribbon, and the knot was behind. In any case, even if she could remove her masquerade, she was lost if they found her; for she was still wearing the white dress of the evening, and not even Patty's imagination could compass an excuse for that at twelve o'clock at night.
The search was growing nearer; she caught the glimmer81 of a light ahead. At any moment they might open the door of the passage. The linen82 closet was the only refuge at hand—and that was very temporary. She felt for the door handle and slipped inside. If she could find a pile of sheets, she might dive to the bottom and hope to escape notice, being mostly sheet herself. But it was Saturday, and all the linen had gone down. A long, slippery, inclined[289] chute connected the room with the laundry in the basement two floors below. Steps were already audible in the passage. She heard Miss Lord's voice say:
"Bring a light! We'll search the linen closet."
Patty did not hesitate. In imagination she could already feel the pressure of Miss Lord's grasp upon her shoulder. A broken neck was preferable.
Still hugging the lemon pie—in all her excitement she had clasped it firmly—she climbed into the chute, stretched her feet out straight in front, and pushed off. For two breathless seconds she dashed through space, then her feet hit the trap door at the bottom, and she shot into the laundry.
One instant earlier, the door from the kitchen stairs had cautiously opened, and a man had darted83 into the laundry. He had just had time to cast a glance of boundless84 relief about the empty, moonlit room, when Patty and the pie catapulted against him. They went down together in a whirl of waving wings. Patty being on top picked her[290]self up first. She still clutched her pie—at least what was left of it; the white meringue was spread over the man's hair and face; but the lemon part was still intact. The man sat up dazedly85, rubbed the meringue from his eyes, cast one look at his assailant, and staggered to his feet. He flattened himself against the wall with arms thrown wide for support.
Patty excused his language, as he did not appear to know that he was addressing a lady. He seemed to be laboring87 under the impression that she was the devil.
Her pillow slip by now was very much askew88; one ear pointed89 northward90, the other southeast, and she could only see out of one eye. It was very hot inside and she was gasping91 for breath. For a palpitating moment they merely stared and panted. Then Patty's mind began to work.
"I suppose," she suggested, "you are the burglar they are screaming about?"
The man leaned back limply and stared,[291] his wide, frightened eyes shining through a fringe of meringue.
"I," said Patty, completing the introduction, "am the ghost."
He muttered something under his breath. She could not make out whether he was praying or swearing.
"Just a girl's school."
"Gosh!" he observed.
The sound of running feet became audible in the kitchen above, while bass95 voices were added to the shrill96 soprano that had sounded the former tocsin. The men had arrived from the stables. The burglar and the ghost regarded each other for a moment of suspended breathing; their mutual97 danger drew them together. Patty hesitated an instant, while she studied his face as it showed through the interstices of the meringue. He had honest blue eyes and yellow curls. She[292] suddenly stretched out a hand and grasped him by an elbow.
"Quick! They'll be here in a minute. I know a place to hide. Come with me."
She pushed him unresisting down a passage and into a storeroom, boarded off from the main cellar, where the scenery of the dramatic society was kept.
"Get down on your hands and knees and follow me," she ordered, as she stooped low and dived behind a pile of canvas.
The man crawled after. They emerged at the farther end into a small recess98 behind some canvas trees. Patty sat on a stump99 and offered a wooden rock to her companion.
"They'll never think of looking here," she whispered. "Martin's too fat to crawl through."
A small barred window let in some faint moonlight and they had an opportunity to study each other more at leisure. The man did not yet seem comfortable in Patty's presence; he was occupying the farthest possible corner of his rock. Presently he rubbed his coat sleeve over his head and looked long[293] and earnestly at the meringue. He was evidently at a loss to identify the substance; in the rush of events he had taken no note of the pie.
Patty brought her one eye to bear down upon him.
She bent her head and presented the back of her neck.
The man by now was partially101 reassured102 as to the humanness of his companion, and he obediently worked at the knot but with hands that trembled. At last it came loose, and Patty with a sigh of relief emerged into the open. Her hair was somewhat tousled and her face was streaked103 with burnt cork, but her blue eyes were as honest as his own. The sight reassured him.
"Gee!" he muttered in a wave of relief.
"Keep still!" Patty warned.
The hunt was growing nearer. There was the sound of tramping feet in the laundry and they could hear the men talking.[294]
"A ghost and a burglar!" said Martin, in fine scorn. "That's a likely combination, ain't it now?"
They made an obligatory104 and superficial search through the coal cellar. Martin jocularly inquiring:
"Did ye look in the furnace, Mike? Here Osaki, me lad, ye're small. Take a crawl oop the poipes and see if the ghost ain't hidin' there."
They opened the door of the property-room and glanced inside. The burglar ducked his head and held his breath, while Patty struggled with an ill-timed desire to giggle105. Martin was in a facetious106 mood. He whistled in the manner of calling a dog.
"Here, Ghostie! Here, Burgie! Come here, old fellow!"
They banged the door shut and their footsteps receded107. Patty was rocking back and forth in a species of hysterics, stuffing the corner of the sheet into her mouth to keep from laughing audibly. The burglar's teeth were chattering108.
[295]
"Lord!" he breathed. "It may be funny for you, Miss. But it means the penitentiary109 for me."
Patty interrupted her hysterics and regarded him with disgust.
"It would mean expulsion for me, or at least something awfully110 unpleasant. But that's no reason for going all to pieces. You're a nice sort of a burglar! Brace111 up and be a sport!"
He mopped his brow and removed another portion of icing.
"You must be an awful amateur to break into a house like this," she said contemptuously. "Don't you know the silver's plated?"
"I didn't know nuthin' about it," he said sullenly112. "I see the window open over the shed roof and I clum up. I was hungry and was lookin' for somethin' to eat. I ain't had nothin' since yesterday mornin'."
Patty reached to the floor beside her.
"Have some pie."
He was as nervous as a mouse in a cage.
"Lemon pie. It looks a little messy but it's all right. The only thing the matter with it is that it has lost its meringue top. That's mostly on your head. The rest of it is spread over me and the laundry floor and Evalina Smith's bed and the clothes chute."
"Oh!" he murmured in evident relief, as he rubbed his hand over his hair for the fourth time. "I was wonderin' what the blame stuff was."
"But the lemon's all here," she urged. "You'd better eat it. It's quite nourishing, I believe."
He accepted the pie and fell to eating it with an eagerness that carried out the truth of his assertion as to yesterday's breakfast.
Patty watched him, her natural curiosity struggling with her acquired politeness. The curiosity triumphed.
"Do you mind telling me how you came to be a burglar? You make such a remarkably115 bad one, that I should think you would have chosen almost any other profession."[297]
He told his story between bites. To one more experienced in police records, it might have sounded a trifle fishy116, but he had an honest face and blue eyes, and it never entered her head to doubt him. The burglar commenced it sullenly; no one had ever believed him yet and he wasn't expecting her to. He would like to have invented something a little more plausible117, but he lacked the imagination to tell a convincing lie. So, as usual, he lamely118 told the truth.
Patty listened with strained attention. His tale was somewhat muffled by lemon pie, and his vocabulary did not always coincide with her own, but she managed to get the gist119 of it.
By rights he was a gardener. In the last place where he worked he used to sleep in the attic120, because the gentleman he was away a lot, and the lady she was afraid not to have a man in the house. And a gas-fitter, that he had always thought was his friend, give him some beer one night and got him drunk, and took away the key of the back door. And while he (the gardener) was[298] sound asleep on the children's sand pile under the apple tree in the back yard, the gas-fitter entered the house and stole an overcoat and a silver coffee-pot and a box of cigars and a bottle of whisky and two umbrellas. And they proved it on him (the gardener) and he was sent up for two years. And when he come out, no one wouldn't give him no work.
"An' ye can't make me believe," he added bitterly, "that that beer wasn't doped!"
"Oh, but it was terrible of you to get drunk!" said Patty, shocked.
"'Twas an accident," he insisted.
"If you are sure that you'll never do it again," she said, "I'll get you a job. But you must promise, on your word of honor as a gentleman. You know I couldn't recommend a drunkard."
The man grinned feebly.
"I guess ye'll not be findin' anybody that will be wantin' a jailbird."
"Oh, yes, I will! I know exactly the man. He's a friend of mine, and he likes jailbirds. He realizes that it's only luck that[299] made him a millionaire instead of a convict. He always gives a man a chance to start again. He used to have a murderer in charge of his greenhouses, and a cattle thief to milk the cows. I'm sure he'll like you. Come with me, and I'll write you a letter of introduction."
Patty gathered her sheets about her and prepared to crawl out.
"What are ye doin'?" he demanded quickly. "Y' aren't goin' to hand me over?"
"Is it likely?" She regarded him with scorn. "How could I hand you over, without handing myself over at the same time?"
The logic121 of this appealed to him, and he followed meekly122 on hands and knees. She approached the laundry door and listened warily123; the search had withdrawn124 to other quarters. She led the way along a passage and up a flight of stairs and slipped into the deserted125 kindergarten room.
"We're safe here," she whispered. "They've already searched it."
She cast about for writing materials. No[300] ink was to be found, but she discovered a red crayon pencil, and tore a sheet of paper from a copy book. "Honesty is the best policy," was inscribed126 in flowing characters at the top.
"If I get you a nice job in charge of onions and orchids128 and things, will you promise never again to drink any beer?"
"Sure," he agreed, but without much enthusiasm.
There was a light of uneasiness in his eye. Nothing in his past experience tallied129 with to-night's adventure; and he suspected an ambush130.
"Because," said Patty, "it would be awfully embarrassing for me if you did get drunk. I should never dare recommend another burglar."
She wrote her note on the window ledge, by moonlight, and read it aloud:
"Dear Mr. Weatherby,—
"Do you remember the conversation we had the day I ran away and dropped into your onion garden? You said you thought criminals were often[301] quite as good as the rest of us, and that you would find a job for any convict friend I might present. This is to introduce a burglar of my acquaintance who would like to secure a position as gardener. He was trained to be a gardener and much prefers it to burglaring, but finds it difficult to find a place because he has been in prison. He is faithful, honest and industrious131, and promises to be sober. I shall appreciate any favor you may show him.
"Sincerely yours,
"Patty Wyatt."
"P. S.—Please excuse this red crayon. I am writing at midnight, by moonlight in the kindergarten room, and the ink's all locked up. The burglar will explain the circumstances, which are too complicated to write.
"Yours ever,
"P. W."
She enclosed her note in a large manila envelope that had contained weaving mats, and addressed it to Silas Weatherby, Esq. The man received it gingerly. He seemed to think that it might go off.
"What's the matter?" said Patty. "Are you afraid of it?"
"Ye're sure," he asked suspiciously, "that Silas Weatherby ain't a cop?"[302]
"He's a railroad president."
"Oh!" The burglar looked relieved.
Patty unlocked the window, then paused for a final moral lecture.
"I am giving you a chance to begin again. If you are game, and present this letter, you'll get a job. If you're a coward, and don't dare present it, you can keep on being a burglar for the rest of your life for all I care—and a mighty132 poor one you'll make!"
She opened the window and waved her hand invitingly133 toward the outside world.
"Good-by, Miss," he said.
"Good-by," said Patty cordially. "And good luck!"
He paused, half in, half out, for a last reassurance134.
"Ye're sure it's on the straight, Miss? Y' ain't pitchin' me no curve?"
"It's on the straight." She pledged her word. "I ain't pitchin' you no curve."
Patty crept upstairs the back way, and by a wide detour135 avoided the excited crowd still gathered in the East Wing. A fresh hub[303]-bub had arisen, for Evalina Smith had found a monkey-wrench on the floor of her room. It was shown to the scoffing136 Martin as visible proof that the burglar had been there.
Patty hurriedly undressed and tumbled into a kimono. Sleepily rubbing her eyes, she joined the assemblage in the hall.
"What's happened?" she asked, blinking at the lights. "Has there been a fire?"
A chorus of laughter greeted the question.
"It's a burglar!" said Conny, exhibiting the wrench.
Mr. Weatherby presented his compliments to Mrs. Trent, and desired the pleasure of[304] showing the young ladies of the Senior class through his art gallery on Friday next at four o'clock.
The Dowager was at a loss to account for this gratuitous140 courtesy on the part of her hitherto unneighborly neighbor. After a moment of deliberation, she decided16 to meet him half way; and the groom rode back with an equally polite acceptance.
On Friday next, as the school hearse turned in at the gates of Weatherby Hall, the owner stood on the portico141 waiting to welcome his guests. If there were a shade more empressement in his greeting to Patty than to her companions, the Dowager did not notice it.
He made an exceptionally attentive142 host. In person he conducted them through the gallery and pointed out the famous Botticelli. Tea was served at little tables set on the western terrace. Each girl found a gardenia143 at her plate and a silver bonbonnière with the St. Ursula monogram144 on the cover. After tea their host suggested a visit to the Italian garden. As they strolled through the paths,[305] Patty found herself walking beside him and the Dowager. His conversation was addressed to Mrs. Trent, but an occasional amused glance was directed toward Patty. They turned a corner behind a marble pavilion, and came upon a fountain and a gardener man, intent upon a border of maiden-hair ferns.
"I have a very remarkable new Swedish gardener," Mr. Weatherby casually remarked to the Dowager. "The man is a genius at making plants grow. He came highly recommended. Oscar!" he called. "Bring the ladies some of those tulips."
The man dropped his watering-can, and approached, hat in hand. He was a golden-haired, blue-eyed young chap with an honest smile. He presented his flowers, first to the elder lady and then to Patty. As he caught her interested gaze, a light of comprehension suddenly leaped to his eyes. Her costume and make-up to-day were so very dissimilar to those which she had assumed on the occasion of their first meeting, that recognition on his part had not been instantaneous.
Patty fell back a step to receive her flowers and the others strolled on.
"I have to thank ye, Miss," he said gratefully, "for the finest job I ever had. It's all right!"
"You know now," Patty laughed, "that I didn't pitch you no curves?"
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1
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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dabble
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| v.涉足，浅赏 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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4
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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5
repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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6
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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7
auditors
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| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
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8
itinerant
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| adj.巡回的；流动的 | |
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9
teaspoon
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| n.茶匙 | |
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10
hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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12
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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13
bestowal
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| 赠与，给与； 贮存 | |
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14
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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15
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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16
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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17
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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18
cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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19
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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20
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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21
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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22
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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23
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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24
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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25
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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26
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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28
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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29
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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30
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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31
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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32
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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33
hilariously
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34
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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35
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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36
coerce
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| v.强迫，压制 | |
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37
grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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38
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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39
devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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40
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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41
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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42
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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43
larked
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| v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的过去式和过去分词 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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44
delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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45
specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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46
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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48
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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49
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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50
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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51
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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52
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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53
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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54
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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55
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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56
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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57
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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58
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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59
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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60
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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61
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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62
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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63
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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64
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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65
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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67
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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68
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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69
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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70
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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71
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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72
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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73
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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75
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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76
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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77
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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78
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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79
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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80
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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82
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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83
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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84
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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85
dazedly
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| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
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86
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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87
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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88
askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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89
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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90
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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91
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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92
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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93
asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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94
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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95
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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96
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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97
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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98
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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99
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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100
untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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101
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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102
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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103
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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104
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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105
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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106
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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107
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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108
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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109
penitentiary
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| n.感化院；监狱 | |
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110
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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111
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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112
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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113
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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114
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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115
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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116
fishy
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| adj. 值得怀疑的 | |
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117
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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118
lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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119
gist
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| n.要旨；梗概 | |
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120
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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121
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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122
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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123
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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124
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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125
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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126
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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127
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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128
orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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129
tallied
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| v.计算，清点( tally的过去式和过去分词 )；加标签（或标记）于；（使）符合；（使）吻合 | |
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130
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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131
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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133
invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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134
reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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135
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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136
scoffing
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| n. 嘲笑, 笑柄, 愚弄 v. 嘲笑, 嘲弄, 愚弄, 狼吞虎咽 | |
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137
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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138
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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140
gratuitous
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| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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142
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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143
gardenia
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| n.栀子花 | |
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144
monogram
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| n.字母组合 | |
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