The Solitary House by Lynn Shepherd Read Free Book Online Page B

tiny devoted dog, and creeping into my bed at night, whispering that she had heard the ghost on the walk again, or there were cries in the night, or phantoms scratching in the roof above her bed. Caroline, I found almost forbidding, or at least at first. I was introduced to her by Miss Darby the day after my arrival, in the big room downstairs, where she sat at a writing-table looking dissatisfied and sullen, her fingers covered with ink, her hair untidy, and her satin slippers scuffed.
    I saw her looking at my own dress, plain and serviceable as it was. “You think a lot of yourself, I dare say,” she said bitterly. But I could see there were tears in her eyes, for all her angry words, so I took a seat by her and tried my best to look her friend.
    “Come, come, Miss Caroline,” I coaxed, “a little care, a little tidiness—a pin here and a stitch there, and I could make you as fresh and lovely as a spring day. Lovelier far than I could ever be.”
    I put my hand in hers, but she pulled it away saying she was tired.Miss Darby shook her head and touched her forehead, saying it was hot, and she would have one of the maids fetch a restorative that would help to calm her. Miss Darby then said a few more quiet words to Caroline and she presently put down her pen, and straightened her dress as well she could.
    “There,” said Miss Darby brightly, “that’s much better, Caroline. You’re almost presentable for once. Why don’t you take Hester upstairs and show her your room?” adding in an undertone to me, that the chamber was as much in need of attention as its owner. I did what I could to bring a little order, and saw at once that this was a great relief to its occupant, who stood wringing her hands in the centre of the carpet, not knowing, it seemed, whether to fling her arms about me, or berate me for my meddling. I had not long finished my tucking and tidying, when there was a soft tap at the door and it opened to reveal Augusta, hand in hand with little Amy. The latter slipped to my side and whispered that Augusta had just had one of her fits, but Miss Darby had been on hand, and all was well now. I went to Augusta and gave her a kiss, and she smiled timidly at me, though her cheeks were deeply flushed and her eyes still a little wild. Poor girl! I saw her suffer many of these seizures in the months that followed and I am sad to say that they got worse, if anything, over that time. It was not long before I recognised the telltale signs. A strange expression would pass across Augusta’s face, and then she would suddenly stiffen in the most alarming manner, and fall to the ground, no matter where she was; her limbs would thrash about, her mouth would froth, and she would become so rigid and tense that the slightest touch seemed to hurt her. When the fits were particularly bad, her eyes would roll round so that naught but the whites were visible, which was especially terrifying to dear little Amy, who thought it signified that poor Augusta’s soul had been seized by an evil spirit, so I would always take care, if I was nearby, to take Amy apart and sit with her, telling her a fairy story, until Miss Darby had made all peaceable once more.

    I spent the next quiet, happy months at my new home, surrounded by my friends, protected by my Guardian, and contriving to make myself as useful as I was cheerful, when one August morning, Mr Jarvis called me to see him. The garden was in the full summer glory, the air fragrant, and the birds singing in the garden. When I opened the door of Mr Jarvis’s room I saw at once that he was not alone. The two of them were standing by the fire talking, and they turned towards me when they heard my approach. Oh she was so beautiful! Such lovely golden hair, and such a pure and innocent face! I thought at once of my mother, and of the likeness of her I still kept close to my heart, and I was—for a moment—a little sad. I think that this lovely girl divined this somehow, for she came to