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Updated: June 1, 2025
She realized with a sharp pang of concern what Pegler's mental defection would mean to her. It would be dreadful, dreadful, if Pegler began seeing ghosts, and turning hysterical. "What was the spirit like?" she asked quietly. And then, all at once, she had to suppress a violent inclination to burst out laughing. For Pegler answered with a kind of cry, "A 'orrible happarition, ma'am!"
"What do you mean?" he asked sternly. "I mean that Aunt Blanche and that tiresome Pegler of hers had already been here a week and nothing had happened. And then the first night I was in the house the ghost appeared!" She was shivering now, and, almost unwillingly, he put his arm round her again. "Rot!" he exclaimed. "Don't let yourself think such things, Bubbles "
Even to Blanche there was something pathetic in the thought of "poor Milly," whose birthplace and home this beautiful and strangely perfect old house had been. It was Milly not that sinister figure that Pegler thought she had seen whose form ought to haunt Wyndfell Hall. But there survived no trace, no trifling memento even, of the dead woman's evidently colourless personality.
"But look here, Bubbles would you like to go downstairs again, into the hall? It's quite warm there," he felt that she was really shivering. "I'm cold I'm cold!" "Put on something warmer," he said or rather ordered. "Put on your fur coat. Is it downstairs? Shall I go and fetch it?" She whispered, "It's in my room I know where it is. I know exactly where Pegler put it."
"It can't be helped," said Miss Farrow good-naturedly. "I know you wouldn't have done it if you could have helped it, Pegler. But of course in a way it's unlucky." "I've pointed out to them all that there never is but one room haunted in a house as a rule," said the maid eagerly, "and I think they all quite sees that, ma'am. Besides, they're very pleased with Mr. Varick.
"In a sort of way," said Pegler somberly, "the spirit was supplying the light, as it were. I could see her in the darkness, as if she was a lamp moving about." "Oh, Pegler, Pegler!" exclaimed Miss Farrow deprecatingly. "It's true, ma'am! It's true as I'm standing here."
And as if Varick had guessed part of what was passing through her mind, "Any news of the ghost, Blanche?" he asked jokingly. "How's my friend Pegler this morning?" "Pegler's quite all right! I'm the person who ought to have seen the ghost but of course I neither saw nor heard anything."
Pegler would have liked to add the words "So help me God!" but somehow she felt that these words would not carry any added conviction to her mistress. And, indeed, they would not have done so, for Miss Farrow, though she was much too polite and too well-bred ever to have said so, even to herself, did not believe in a Supreme Being. She was a complete materialist.
"Indeed they don't! Never mind what the people in the village say. This kind of strange, lonely, beautiful old house is sure to be said to be haunted. What I want to know is what you think you saw, Pegler " The speaker looked sharply into the woman's face. "I don't like to see you standing, ma'am," said Pegler inconsequently.
And now here was the letter a much fatter letter than usual, too. Pegler, of course, said nothing. It was not her place to know the hand-writing of any of the gentlemen who wrote to her mistress. Miss Farrow took the letter, and there came a faint, a very faint, flush over her face. She said: "I hope Miss Bubbles has had a good night. Have you been in to her yet, Pegler?" "Yes, ma'am.
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