Part 13 (1/2)

”I was,” she said, ”but you never saw me.”

”Oh, yes, we did,” protested Winthrop. ”We used to call you our mascot.”

”No, that was some other little girl,” said Vera firmly. ”You never looked at me, and I”--she laughed, and then frowned at him reproachfully--”I thought you were magnificent! I used to have your pictures in baseball clothes pinned all around my looking gla.s.s, and whenever you made a base hit, I'd shout and shout--and you'd never look at me! And one day--” she stopped, and as though appalled by the memory, clasped her hands. ”Oh, it was awful!” she exclaimed; ”one day a foul ball hit the fence, and I jumped down and threw it to you, and you said, Thank you, sis! And I,” she cried, ”thought I was a young lady!”

”Oh! I couldn't have said that,” protested Winthrop, ”maybe I said sister.”

”No,” declared Vera energetically shaking her head, ”not sister, sis.

And you never did look at me; and I used to drive past your house every day. We lived only a mile below you.”

”Where?” asked Winthrop.

”On the lake road from Syracuse,” said Vera. ”Don't you remember the farm a mile below yours--the one with the red barn right on the road?

Yes, you do,” she insisted, ”the cows were always looking over the fence right into the road.”

”Of course!” exclaimed Winthrop delightedly. ”Was that your house?”

”Oh, no,” protested Vera, ”ours was the little cottage on the other side--”

”With poplars round it?” demanded Winthrop.

”That's it!” cried Vera triumphantly, ”with poplars round it.”

”Why, I know that house well. We boys used to call it the haunted house.”

”That's the one,” a.s.sented Vera. She smiled with satisfaction. ”Well, that's where I lived until Aunt died,” she said.

”And then, what?” asked Winthrop.

For a moment the girl did not answer. Her face had grown grave and she sat motionless, staring beyond her. Suddenly, as though casting her thoughts from her, she gave a sharp toss of her head.

”Then,” she said, speaking quickly, ”I went into the mills, and was ill there, and I wrote Paul and Mabel to ask if I could join them, and they said I could. But I was too ill, and I had no money--nothing. And then,”

she raised her eyes to his and regarded him steadily, ”then I stole that cloak to get the money to join them, and you--you helped me to get away, and--and” Winthrop broke in hastily. He disregarded both her manner and the nature of what she had said.

”And how did you come to know the Vances?” he asked.

After a pause of an instant, the girl accepted the cue his manner gave her, and answered as before.

”Through my aunt,” she said, ”she was a medium too.”

”Of course!” cried Winthrop. ”I remember now, that's why we called it the haunted house.”

”My aunt,” said the girl, regarding him steadily and with, in her manner, a certain defiance, ”was a great medium. All the spiritualists in that part of the State used to meet at our house. I've witnessed some wonderful manifestations in that front parlor.” She turned to Winthrop and smiled. ”So, you see,” she exclaimed, ”I was born and brought up in this business. I am the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. My grandmother was a medium, my mother was a medium--she worked with the Fox sisters before they were exposed. But, my aunt,” she added thoughtfully, judicially, ”was the greatest medium I have ever seen. She did certain things I couldn't understand, and I know every trick in the trade--unless,” she explained, ”you believe the spirits helped her.”

Winthrop was observing the girl intently, with a new interest.

”And you don't believe that?” he asked, quietly.

”How can I?” Vera said. ”I was brought up with them.” She shook her head and smiled. ”I used to play around the kitchen stove with Pocahontas and Alexander the Great, and Martin Luther lived in our china closet. You see, the neighbors wouldn't let their children come to our house; so, the only playmates I had were--ghosts.” She laughed wistfully. ”My!” she exclaimed, ”I was a queer, lonely little rat. I used to hear voices and see visions. I do still,” she added. With her elbows on the arms of her chair, she clasped her hands under her chin and leaned forward. She turned her eyes to Winthrop and nodded confidentially.