The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)Wood, Henry, Mrs.
General
The Story of Charles Strange: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)
Wood, Henry, Mrs.
Fiction
"Don't you come," cried Hatch, putting Annabel back unceremoniously.
"I shall get my missis round best alone; I'm not afraid of no
ghostesses, not I. Give a look to her, sir," she added, pointing to
Annabel, as she drew Mrs. Brightman into her chamber, and fastened the
door.
Annabel, her hands clasped on her chest, shook as she stood. I put my
arm round her waist and took her down to the drawing-room. I closed
the door, and Annabel sat down on the sofa near the fire.
"My darling, how can I comfort you?"
A burst of grief prevented her from replying--grief that I had rarely
witnessed. I let it spend itself; you can do nothing else with emotion
so violent: and when it was over I sat down beside her.
"Annabel, you might have confided this to me at first. It can be
nothing but a temporary delusion of Mrs. Brightman's, arising from a
relaxed state of the nervous system. Imaginary spectral
appearances----"
"Who told you about that?" she interrupted, in agitation. "How came
you to hear it?"
"My dear, I heard it from Perry. But he did not break faith in
speaking of it, for he thought you had already told me. There can be
no reason why I should not know it; but I am sorry that it has
penetrated to the servants."
Poor Annabel laid her head on the arm of the sofa, and moaned.
"I do not like to leave you or Mrs. Brightman either, in this
distress. Shall I remain in the house to-night? I can send a message
to Leah----"
"Oh no, no," she hastily interrupted, as if the proposal had startled
her. And then she continued slowly, hesitatingly, pausing between her
words: "You do not--of course--believe that--that papa----"
"Of course I do not," was my hearty reply, relieving her from her
embarrassing question. "Nor you either, Annabel: although, as a child,
you devoured every ghost-story you came near."
She made no confirmatory reply, only looked down, and kept silence. I
gazed at her wonderingly.
"It terrified me so much last night," she whispered.
"What terrified you, Annabel?"
"I was terrified altogether; at mamma's screams, at her words, at the
nervous state she was in. Mr. Close has helped to frighten me, too,
for I heard him say this morning to Hatch that such cases have been
known to end in madness."
"Mr. Close is not worth a rush," cried I, suppressing what I had been
about to utter impulsively. "So he knows of this fancy?"
"Yes, Hatch told him. Indeed, Charles, I do not see that there was any
help for it."
"He will observe discretion, I suppose. Still, I almost wish you had
called in someone who is a stranger to the neighbourhood."
"Mamma will not have a stranger, and you know we must not act in
opposition to her will. She seemed so much better this morning; quite
herself again."
"Of course. With the return of daylight these fancies subside. But as
it seems there is nothing I can do for you, Annabel, I must be going,
and will come again to-morrow evening."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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