Voices in a Haunted Room

Dickon shrugged his shoulders. “These things happen. She ought to have known that he was unlikely to marry her.”

“I expect he promised.”

“She should have made sure.”

“You’re very unsympathetic.”

“No ... I understand. I just think she was a fool, that’s all. I daresay if she had come to your mother, she would have helped her ... and you certainly would.”

“Don’t you understand how a girl would feel? And there’s that grandmother ... you knew her well ... so you must realize how much she wanted good things for her grand-daughter ... all that she herself had missed.”

He nodded.

“We’ve got to help her,” I said.

“It’s no use with old Manning.”

“I know. But there are other ways.”

“Such as?”

“You do own land hi the cemetery ... Eversleigh land. I mean where the family is buried.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I want Evie to be buried there.”

“Among our people!”

“Dickon,” I said, “isn’t Evie one of us?”

He showed no sign of embarrassment. “You must be referring to that little entanglement between me and Grandmother Evalina in the distant past.”

“Yes. I am.”

“H’m. Well, it took place.”

“Then Evie could be your grand-daughter.”

“It’s a possibility. Evalina was a shrewd little piece.”

“If Richard Mather was your son ... then Evie has a right to a plot of your ground.”

I saw the smile break out on his face. “I love you, Claudine,” he said. “You’re like your mother.”

“Dickon, will you?”

“You know how hard it has always been for me to refuse a beautiful young lady anything she asks.”

“Dickon ... thank you. Thank you so much.”

I was hi tears. He looked at me in a benign, amused kind of way.

My mother came in.

“What are you doing in here, you two?” she asked.

“Your daughter has just made a request which I have granted.”

“A request ... and she’s crying. What are you crying for, Claudine? It’s so unlike you.”

I went to her and kissed her. “Dickon has just made me so happy.”

“Oh?” she said, looking in puzzlement from one to the other of us.

“It’s that old hypocrite Manning,” said Dickon. “Wants Evie Mather in a suicide’s grave. Retribution from his God. The sanctimonious old devil.”

“And ...” began my mother.

“Dickon has promised me that she shall be buried in our ground ... among the Eversleighs.

Oh, it has made me so happy. I’m going to tell Mrs. Trent right away.”

My mother was smiling. “Oh Dickon,” she said. “Thank you. You’re so wonderful.”

I lost no time in getting over to Grasslands.

I was taken at once to Mrs. Trent, who was still in her grey sombre robe.

I said: “Don’t worry, Mrs. Trent. It’s going to be all right.”

“You’ve seen him ... that vicar?”

“We don’t have to worry about him. I have spoken to my father-inlaw. Evie shall be buried in Eversleigh ground.”

“Consecrated Eversleigh ground,” she cried, wonderment dawning on her ravaged face.

”Yes,” I told her. “He has promised me that it shall be so.”

“Oh thank you, Mrs. Frenshaw. Though it’s no more than her due.”

“I know. I know. But that little trial is over.”

She nodded. “Thank you, thank you,” she said. She was silent for a few moments, then she went on: “I worry ... I worry so much about Dolly.”

“Dolly will be all right,” I assured her.

“If I went, where would she be? I used to think when Evie married she would go with her and be looked after. That’s all changed now.”

“I’d see that she was all right, Mrs. Trent. Don’t worry about Dolly. We’d see that she was all right.”

“It’s like the family ... in a way,” she said.

I felt almost happy. It had been so wonderful to bring her that little bit of cheer. It was the day of Evie’s funeral. It was hot and humid. There was a stillness in the air-a hushed silence everywhere. People talked in whispers in the house; and there was no breeze to make the slightest rustle in the trees. Dickon had promised to go to the church and David and I would go with my mother.

I was sure that would please Mrs. Trent.

In the morning there was a visitor to the house. I was in the garden picking some roses which I was going to lay on Evie’s grave. I saw him coming and my heart missed a beat. I ran to him and said: “You shouldn’t have come.” It was a strange way to greet a visitor.

He looked pale and distraught.

“I heard,” he said. “I was so shocked.”

“I’m not surprised.”

I hated Harry Farringdon as he stood there, although he was all contrition. I could not help thinking that but for him Evie would be alive today.

“I had to come,” he said.

“It would have been better if you had stayed away.”

“But I was fond of her.”

“That was unfortunate for her.”

“You don’t believe that I ...”

“Harry,” I said, “don’t go into the house. I think it would be better if you were not seen. Go right away ... now. I don’t know what would happen if Evie’s grandmother saw you. I believe she would try to do you some harm.”

”I have behaved badly.”

“Indeed you have.”

“But is it true ... what I heard about a child?”

“Yes,” I told him. “It’s true. Evie was three months pregnant, and it seems that was the reason she could no longer face the world.”

“You don’t believe that I ... was the cause of her condition?”

I looked at him angrily.