but a week was not allowed to elapse before the two girls saw an opportunity of crossing the bridge again to make a second visit to the haunted house. miss rindy one evening declared her intention of spending the next day in portland. she had now almost recovered from her accident, and with the aid of her stick could get about perfectly with scarce a sign of a limp.
“beulah will look after you,” she told the two girls. “she knows what to do, and if anything goes wrong, you, ellen, can set it right. it won’t hurt you to take a little responsibility once in a while.”
“it seems to me that i have proved that i can,” retorted ellen.
“well, perhaps you have, in a measure, but that was at home; it is different here. one should be prepared to meet any emergency, no matter where.”
ellen shrugged her shoulders. why couldn’t cousin rindy give her the credit for having rather good judgment? however, she said nothing, but speeded her on her way, and then returned to mabel, who had not risen for so early a breakfast as was necessary for miss rindy.
“what a lazybones i am,” said mabel as she came down to find miss rindy gone and ellen finished with her breakfast. “gran always indulged me, so that if i wanted to linger in bed she never said a word. i am afraid i am not sufficiently grateful to gran, but i don’t know that girls usually possess that virtue. we take what is done for us as a matter of course, expect it as our right. you are the only truly grateful young person i know, ellen.”
“i? you don’t know me. i feel mighty sassy sometimes, and express my opinions accordingly, though i try never to forget what cousin rindy has done for me. if she were a really, truly parent, i might feel different, but as it is i consider that i would be a disgraceful ingrate if i lost sight of my benefits.”
“lots of girls wouldn’t be so particular. it isn’t the modern fashion to show respect to your elders. i know girls who call down their parents as if they were the children and the girls were the parents. oh, yes; boys, too, generally think they know it all. they call any one of a past generation a back number, non-progressive, and all that. i don’t quite agree with gran when she says: ‘young people think old people are fools; old people know young ones are;’ that always makes me mad, chiefly, i suppose, because it is said at a time when i want my own way.”
“i do suppose we should allow some value to experience,” replied ellen thoughtfully. “how will you have your eggs, mabel?”
“oh, you dear thing, are you attending to my breakfast? you have made fresh coffee and toast, too. where is beulah?”
“she is attending to things up-stairs. you know i don’t mind doing such things for you, mabel.”
“consider yourself kissed for that speech. the eggs? oh, yes, suppose you scramble them; you always do them so beautifully that way.”
“a bouquet for me in return for mine,” said ellen laughing, as she went out to the kitchen. “what are we going to do with ourselves to-day?” she asked as she came back with the eggs.
“why, let me see. oh, ellen, why isn’t this just our chance to go to the haunted house?”
“of course; you’ve said it, child. by the way, have you heard that the polite young man of the post-office incident is not robert macdonald? he and some others are camping on a neighboring island. he just happened to be here that day.”
“who told you all that?”
“cap’n belah; you know he keeps wind of everything that goes on. i met him on my way from the boat this morning after seeing cousin rindy off, and he asked me facetiously why i wasn’t keeping my weather eye out for ‘them boys over on halsey’s island, likely-lookin’ chaps.’ ‘what boys?’ i asked. ‘do you know their names?’ wal, he cal’lated that he couldn’t name ’em all, but the one that came over oftenest for supplies went by name of tom clayton. they cruised around consid’rable in a motor-boat, there was something like half a dozen of ’em, and they had h’isted tents, was kind of soldiering, he cal’lated.”
mabel laughed at ellen’s imitation. “well, you have done well in gathering in your sheaves so early in the morning. anything more?”
“i asked if one was named robert macdonald. i couldn’t resist that question, mabel. but cap’n belah ‘disremembered,’ so i didn’t gain anything by ‘satiable curiosity.’ shall we go this morning or this afternoon?”
“this afternoon, i think, for i must write some letters this morning.”
“same here, as clyde says. i must write to caro or she will feel neglected. i wish the dear child wouldn’t be so jealous of you.”
“jealousy is a mean trait, on a par with ingratitude. one is caused by an inflated ego, the other by a thoughtless one.”
“where did you learn so much?”
“read it in a book.”
“book spoke the truth. to be jealous one must consider one’s self worthy of first place, of satisfying every side of the other’s nature, and possessing so many excellent traits that nobody else could stand the same chance in another’s affections.”
“spoken like a very oracle. wise little noddle, yours is, ellen. you think real big thoughts.”
“i’ve had plenty of time for such, and have not lived in the frivolous atmosphere that some others have,” returned ellen saucily.
“out upon your frivolous atmosphere! am i not doing all i can to escape from it? i see where i shall become a perfect prig if i allow myself to indulge in such moralizing. away with priggishness, jealousy, and all such stuff. to-day is ours for romance!”
“ah, yes, romance!” echoed ellen.
they made an early start that afternoon, for it may be said that mabel was just as curious as ellen. the air blew fresh from the sea, so that they did not need to loiter by the way because of undue heat. they reached the house without adventure. all was as silent, as depressing, as before, but this time the two did not stop to explore, but made straight for the cupboard, which ellen reached first.
“it’s gone!” she cried. “the card is gone!”
mabel peered over her friend’s shoulder at the empty shelf, but presently she looked down to spy something lying on the floor. she swooped down upon it and held a scrap of paper high over her head. “look! look!” she exclaimed. “it blew down when we opened the cupboard.”
they raced to the nearest window, the better to see what was written. mabel read aloud:
“greetings to thee, ghost, or shall we say ghostess? for i much suspect thee to be the latter, and not a disembodied spirit, elusive though thou art. wilt thou not materialize and appear in the flesh to
“r. m.”
“isn’t it perfectly lovely?” cried ellen excitedly. “do let’s answer it. of course we must not divulge our identity, but we can answer. o dear! i haven’t a bit of paper, though i do happen to have a pencil.”
“let’s look around; perhaps we can find something that will do.”
“good idea.”
mabel began her search, looking in every room, but for some reason every scrap of paper had been disposed of in some way. “used to kindle a fire,” ellen surmised. “i’ll look around out of doors.”
she went out, but rollicking winds had borne away anything like paper, supposing any had ever lodged there. but presently a brilliant idea struck her as she caught sight of a couple of logs lying in an outhouse, too heavy, perhaps, to be confiscated by any boys who might have played there. from one of these logs ellen stripped a piece of birch bark, the inner side of which was smooth and clean. she bore it indoors in triumph. “see what i found,” she said as she extended her prize. “we can write on it as the indians do.”
“good injun,” said mabel. “what are you going to write? i’m out of this because it’s your find.”
ellen demurred, but mabel was firm, and finally ellen wrote:
“good day to you, fair sir! seek not to penetrate the mysteries. desire not the unattainable. flesh may meet flesh, but spirit cannot behold spirit unless drawn by some heavenly means.
“the ghost.”
she read it to mabel, who immediately gave praise. “it’s fine,” she declared; “so delightfully mystifying and obscure. i’ll venture to say that robert will be devoured with curiosity and won’t waste any time in answering.”
“wouldn’t it be fatal if some one else should find it?” said ellen. “i hope no one will. we’d better get away for fear somebody might be lurking in ambush.”
they deposited the message on the shelf and hurried off, giggling and self-conscious, but making up their minds that their correspondent must be one of the campers on halsey’s island.
a week slipped away before the girls found another chance to cross the bridge. the little neck of land upon which the old house stood contained no other dwelling, and it was seldom visited by the natives, who shunned it because of its uncanny reputation, while the summer residents found more beautiful spots to attract them. beatty’s island was now quite full of visitors, the cottages all open, the boarding-houses crowded. groups of watchers perched on the rocks, never weary of looking at the waves rolling in. the road was no longer a lonely one. the dispensers of ice-cream and delectable drinks were kept busy in the little gray shop, while the delivery trucks dashed up and down the road at a threatening rate.
the girls had made a number of acquaintances and were much in demand. picnics, suppers on the rocks, motor-boat parties to some farther island where shore dinners were a feature, informal teas at the cottage of some neighbor, all these took up their time. ellen was appealed to when her musical ability became known, and every sunday she took her place at the small organ in the little church.
but in all this time they had not come to know either robert macdonald or tom clayton. sometimes as they skimmed past halsey’s island in a motor-boat they caught sight of a group of young men busied at some employment outside the tents, or hoisting the sails of a small boat which rode at anchor near by.
“it seems as if our secret would forever remain a secret,” remarked mabel as the two neared their destination one august afternoon.
“it is much more romantic the way it is. we might be frightfully disappointed in robert if we were to meet him. i don’t know that i really want to. do you?” ellen asked.
“i am not sure. it would be rather fun to see him without his knowing who we are; then we could decide whether we wanted to continue this funny correspondence.”
“maybe we could manage that, though there may be no answer to our last effusion. let’s hurry up and find out.”
but when they reached the room and opened the cupboard door there was another note which they eagerly read. it ran:
“hail to thee, blythe spirit! a wood-nymph thou art, i know now by thy birch-bark sign. the hollow tree must be thy dwelling place. mortal though i be, i fain would have speech with thee. can i not lure thee forth by some subtle strain? music is a language common to all. when and how can we meet?
“r. m.”
the girls sat down on the worn steps which led up-stairs, and began to confer upon a plan of procedure. first one and then the other made suggestions, whispering and glancing up once in a while, as if they feared discovery. at last, amid much laughter, they decided upon a plot.
“it’s lucky i brought paper this time,” said mabel, producing a small pad, “unless you’d rather continue the birch-bark episode.”
“no, now that we have come down to practical facts, let’s have the paper, and you write this time; that will make it the more confusing, although i disguised my writing,—printed the words; it was easier to do it on the birch bark.”
they left the note in the usual place and went off chuckling.
“we’ll have to tell cousin rindy,” said ellen.
“and a lot of others,” returned mabel. “that’s a picturesque old house, ellen; it’s a pity some one doesn’t buy it and fix it up. the stable and hen-house are in pretty good order; if the house were painted and had a new roof, it could be made a pretty place.”
“the ghost would have to be exorcised before any one would undertake to do the repairs,” ellen answered. “it would be a fine place for an artist; the stable could be turned into a studio, and think what a view there is.”
“true. i might buy it, but gran would be scandalized if i turned it into a studio for an artist; she thinks they are a godless lot, and musicians are not far behind. she doesn’t half approve of my visits to aunt nell and her unconventional friends. she thinks aunt nell is old enough to discriminate, but i am a mere infant who should be safeguarded against the wiles of that wild bohemian set, as she calls them.”
ellen laughed. “respectable bohemia is one of the loveliest places in the world, but there is a set that goes to the limit, i must confess, though i don’t think even that is any worse than the fast set in the social world.”
“don’t i know that? it is because of what i have seen in that fast set that i am sick of society in general, and want to get out into something better. i never saw any drinking, gambling, or immoral doings among aunt nell’s artist friends. think of dear, good mr. barstow, the austins, and your own parents, all such sincere, high-minded, single-hearted people. it is among such that i want to cast my lot.”
“me, too,” responded ellen cordially. and here the talk ended.
as soon as they returned they poured forth the tale of their adventure. miss rindy listened attentively, but with disapproval written on her face. “you don’t mean to say that you two have been carrying on with a strange man,” she reproved when the tale was done.
“well, it hasn’t gone very far,” answered mabel cheerfully; “and the creature wouldn’t know us from a side of sole leather if he were to meet us in broad daylight. we know him as one robert macdonald, but he hasn’t the faintest idea who we are. naturally we are wild to see what he looks like, and we have evolved a scheme which we want you to help us carry out.”
“you want me?” miss rindy looked shocked.
“yes, please, ma’am,” said ellen meekly. “when you learn our plan i am sure you won’t object, and that you’ll fall into it.”
“i have no intention of falling into disgrace at my age,” replied miss rindy tartly.
both girls laughed. “softly, softly, my good lady,” cried mabel. “just you listen to our scheme before you get wrathy.”
“don’t kick before you’re spurred, as you sometimes say to me,” ellen joined in. “we’ve shown you the correspondence up to date, all except the note which we left in the cupboard to-day. can you remember what you wrote, mabel?”
“i think so. it was something like this. ‘i will meet you on the middle of the bridge on friday afternoon at four o’clock. i will wear a white dress with a bunch of goldenrod in my belt, so you may know me.’”
“and you mean to do this bold thing?” miss rindy was still indignant.
“yes, we mean to do it, and we expect at least a dozen to do the same thing, you among the number. in so doing we shall see what our young man looks like, while he won’t have the faintest idea which of the dozen is his correspondent.”
then miss rindy threw back her head and laughed. “clever, clever girls,” she cried. “of course i’ll join the gang. i wouldn’t miss the fun of seeing that young man’s expression for anything.”
“we must go on the war-path this very afternoon,” decided mabel, “for we want to see how many we can muster in; the more the merrier.”
this they did, and came back with the report that at least twenty had promised to join them, so that when the afternoon came the little company was ready for the march. it was a varied assortment of sizes, ages, and styles. all wore white hats, which covered their hair, and sprays of goldenrod stuck in their belts. on the stroke of four they advanced in a body to the middle of the bridge where they were met, not by a single individual, but by as many as six young men, who passed them nonchalantly, while one of them casually remarked, “must be going on a picnic.”
“more like the chorus from the opera of ‘patience,’” observed another as he softly sang, “twenty love-sick maidens we.”
the twenty moved on, stifling their laughter as best they could. “and we don’t know a man jack among them,” whispered mabel to ellen.
“and probably they don’t know a woman jenny among us,” returned ellen.
the twenty pursued their way a little farther and then climbed down the rocks to where a motor-boat was awaiting them. into this they entered and were borne away, leaving the young men to their own devices.
this was miss rindy’s idea. “i wasn’t going to have even the single one we expected to meet, tagging after us to see where we lived, any one of us,” she said.
