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Page 57
There was a moment's silence. Mrs. Emerson's features seemed to
sharpen.
"Well, of course I don't want to urge you," said she, "if you don't
feel like talking about it; but maybe it might do you good to tell
it out, if it's on your mind, worrying you."
"I try to put it out of my mind," said Mrs. Meserve.
"Well, it's just as you feel."
"I never told anybody but Simon," said Mrs. Meserve. "I never felt
as if it was wise perhaps. I didn't know what folks might think.
So many don't believe in anything they can't understand, that they
might think my mind wasn't right. Simon advised me not to talk
about it. He said he didn't believe it was anything supernatural,
but he had to own up that he couldn't give any explanation for it
to save his life. He had to own up that he didn't believe anybody
could. Then he said he wouldn't talk about it. He said lots of
folks would sooner tell folks my head wasn't right than to own up
they couldn't see through it."
"I'm sure I wouldn't say so," returned Mrs. Emerson reproachfully.
"You know better than that, I hope."
"Yes, I do," replied Mrs. Meserve. "I know you wouldn't say so."
"And I wouldn't tell it to a soul if you didn't want me to."
"Well, I'd rather you wouldn't."
"I won't speak of it even to Mr. Emerson."
"I'd rather you wouldn't even to him."
"I won't."
Mrs. Emerson took up her dress skirt again; Mrs. Meserve hooked up
another loop of blue wool. Then she begun:
"Of course," said she, "I ain't going to say positively that I
believe or disbelieve in ghosts, but all I tell you is what I saw.
I can't explain it. I don't pretend I can, for I can't. If you
can, well and good; I shall be glad, for it will stop tormenting me
as it has done and always will otherwise. There hasn't been a day
nor a night since it happened that I haven't thought of it, and
always I have felt the shivers go down my back when I did."
"That's an awful feeling," Mrs. Emerson said.
"Ain't it? Well, it happened before I was married, when I was a
girl and lived in East Wilmington. It was the first year I lived
there. You know my family all died five years before that. I told
you."
Mrs. Emerson nodded.
"Well, I went there to teach school, and I went to board with a
Mrs. Amelia Dennison and her sister, Mrs. Bird. Abby, her name
was--Abby Bird. She was a widow; she had never had any children.
She had a little money--Mrs. Dennison didn't have any--and she had
come to East Wilmington and bought the house they lived in. It was
a real pretty house, though it was very old and run down. It had
cost Mrs. Bird a good deal to put it in order. I guess that was
the reason they took me to board. I guess they thought it would
help along a little. I guess what I paid for my board about kept
us all in victuals. Mrs. Bird had enough to live on if they were
careful, but she had spent so much fixing up the old house that
they must have been a little pinched for awhile.
"Anyhow, they took me to board, and I thought I was pretty lucky to
get in there. I had a nice room, big and sunny and furnished
pretty, the paper and paint all new, and everything as neat as wax.
Mrs. Dennison was one of the best cooks I ever saw, and I had a
little stove in my room, and there was always a nice fire there
when I got home from school. I thought I hadn't been in such a
nice place since I lost my own home, until I had been there about
three weeks.
"I had been there about three weeks before I found it out, though I
guess it had been going on ever since they had been in the house,
and that was most four months. They hadn't said anything about it,
and I didn't wonder, for there they had just bought the house and
been to so much expense and trouble fixing it up.
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