The Haunted Homestead: A NovelSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Science
The Haunted Homestead: A Novel
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Fiction
Not long after Sally's departure a handsome carriage, drawn by two fine
bay horses, passed our house; and as the windows were down we could
plainly discern a pale, delicate-looking lady, wrapped in shawls, a
tall, stylish-looking girl, another one about my own age, and two
beautiful little boys.
"That's the Gilberts, I know," said Anna. "Oh, I'm so glad Sally's gone,
for now we shall have the full particulars;" and again we waited as
impatiently for Sally's return as we had once done before for grandma.
At last, to our great relief, the green ribbons and blue shawl were
descried in the distance, and ere long Sally was with us, ejaculating,
"Oh, my--mercy me!" etc., thus giving us an inkling of what was to
follow. "Of all the sights that ever I have seen," said she, folding up
the blue shawl, and smoothing down the pink calico. "There's carpeting
enough to cover every crack and crevice--all pure bristles, too!"
Here I tittered, whereupon Sally angrily retorted, that "she guessed she
knew how to talk proper, if she hadn't studied grammar."
"Never mind," said Anna, "go on; brussels carpeting and what else?"
"Mercy knows what else," answered Sally. "I can't begin to guess the
names of half the things. There's mahogany, and rosewood, and marble
fixin's--and in Miss Gilbert's room there's lace curtains and silk
damson ones"--
A look from Anna restrained me this time, and Sally continued.
"Mercy Jenkins is there, helpin', and she says Mr. Gilbert told 'em, his
wife never et a piece of salt pork in her life, and knew no more how
bread was made than a child two years old."
"What a simple critter she must be," said grandma, while Anna asked if
she saw Mrs. Gilbert, and if that tall girl was her daughter.
"Yes, I seen her," answered Sally, "and I guess she's weakly, for the
minit she got into the house she lay down on the sofa, which Mr. Gilbert
says cost seventy-five dollars. That tall, proud-lookin' thing they call
Miss Adaline, but I'll warrant you don't catch me puttin' on the miss. I
called her Adaline, and you had orto seen how her big eyes looked at me.
Says she, at last, 'Are you one of pa's new servants?'
"'Servants!' says I, 'no, indeed; I'm Mrs. Michael Welsh, one of your
nighest neighbors.'
"Then I told her that there were two nice girls lived in the house with
me, and she'd better get acquainted with 'em right away; and then with
the hatefulest of all hateful laughs, she asked if 'they wore glass
beads and went barefoot.'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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