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Updated: June 7, 2025
Now that she had seen these ghosts she would have plenty to tell Jackie and the others, and they would all think her very brave. She began to feel anxious to be with them again. Just then the woman spoke. "Bennie's late," she said. "Supper's most ready." "He's havin' a look round," answered the man, "against to-night." "What's the old chap's name?" continued the woman. "Chelwood," said the man.
Now you can tell me the mother's name." "Why, of course, it must be Maggie," said Jackie, who had been staring fixedly at Mary for the last two minutes with his mouth wide open; "and that's why she caught hold of my shoe and " "Let me finish the story," said Mrs Chelwood, "and then you shall talk about it as much as you like.
Mr Vallance was speaking as she entered the breakfast-room, and she just caught these words: "Such a fine fellow! I can't think how the wretches managed to kill him without noise." Mary stopped short and turned very white; she looked anxiously at Mrs Vallance, who was pouring out tea. Was it Squire Chelwood they had killed, or was it Hamlet? She did not dare to ask any questions.
Certainly not Mary herself; she was quite used to hearing that she was "as white as snow" and "as fair as a lily" it was Agatha Chelwood who had a brown skin. Altogether it was very mysterious and deeply interesting; soon she began to make up long stories about herself, in which it was always discovered at last that she belonged to very rich people with grand titles.
Her mind was so full of this as the day went on that everything else seemed like a sort of dream; she heard Mrs Vallance talking to her, and answered, but so absently that her mother looked at her in surprise. "She is certainly very much over-tired," she said to herself; "I always knew that Maskells was not a place for the children, and I shall tell Mrs Chelwood so."
"What shall we do now?" he said, yawning a little, for there was still an hour to be filled up before bed-time. Just as he spoke Mrs Chelwood came into the school-room. "Children," she said, "would you like me to tell you a story?"
"My dear," said the squire, putting his head in at the door, "I'm too muddy to come in, but you'll all be glad to hear that we've caught those rascals and they're all in Dorminster jail." Mrs Chelwood hurried out of the room, and the children all began to talk at once, to ask questions, to exclaim, to wonder if the gypsies would be hanged, and so on.
"He's a JP." "What's that?" "A bloke wot sits in court and sends yer to prison," answered the man. Mary listened with all her ears and her eyes starting with horror. Here was some dreadful plot they were going to murder Squire Chelwood, perhaps! Should she run at once and give the alarm, or wait to hear more? While she hesitated the woman spoke again. "I suppose it's best to begin there?"
"It was a little girl," said Mrs Chelwood, "and she was called Betty." "But Betty isn't a name," objected Agatha, "it's short for something." "In the north it is used as a name by itself," replied Mrs Chelwood; "many of the children there are christened Betty, and so was this little girl, though she was very seldom called so." "Why?" asked Mary.
But Mrs Vallance grudged them nothing, and if she could have found it in her heart to envy anyone, it would have been Mrs Chelwood at the White House, who had a nursery and school-room full of children. On the morning after the gypsies had passed, the Reverend Austin Vallance was out even earlier than usual in his garden.
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