The Hawthorns | Page 7

piano?" asked
Nancy bluntly. Nancy's questions were often very tiresome; she never
allowed the least haze or uncertainty to hang over any subject, and
Pennie was frequently checked in the full flow of her eloquence by the
consciousness that Nancy's eye was upon her, and that she was
preparing to put some matter-of-fact inquiry which it would be most
difficult to meet.
"There you go, interrupting again," muttered Ambrose.
"Well, but why doesn't she?" insisted Nancy, "it would be so much
easier."

"Why, of course she can't," resumed Pennie in rather an injured voice,
"because of the lights, and the people, and, besides, she never learnt to
play the piano."
"I wish I needn't either," sighed Nancy. "How nice to be like the Goblin
Lady, and only play the harp when one likes!"
"I should like to see her," said Ambrose thoughtfully.
"You'd be afraid," said Nancy; "why, you wouldn't even go into the
garret by daylight alone."
"That was a long time ago," said Ambrose quickly. "I wouldn't mind it
now."
"In the dark?"
"Well, I don't believe you'd go," said Nancy. "You might perhaps go
two or three steps, and then you'd scream out and run away; wouldn't
he, Pennie?"
"Why, you know he was brave about the cow," said Pennie, "braver
than any of us."
"That was different. He's quite as much afraid of the dark as ever. I call
it babyish."
Nancy looked defiantly at her brother, who was getting very red in the
face. She was prepared to have something thrown at her, or at least to
have her hair, which she wore in a plaited pig-tail, violently pulled, but
nothing of the sort happened. Nurse came soon afterwards and bore
away David and Dickie, and as she left the room she remarked that the
wind was moaning "just like a Christian."
It certainly was making a most mournful noise that evening, but not at
all like a Christian, Ambrose thought, as he listened to it--much more
like Pennie's Goblin Lady and her musical performances.
Pennie had finished her stories now, and she and Nancy were deeply

engaged with their dolls in a corner of the room; this being an
amusement in which Ambrose took no interest, he remained seated on
the table occupied with his own reflections after Nurse had left the
room with the two children.
Nancy's taunt about the garret was rankling in his mind, though he had
not resented it openly as was his custom, and it rankled all the more
because he felt that it was true. Yes, it was true. He could not possibly
go into the garret alone in the dark, and yet if he really were a brave
boy he ought to be able to do it. Was he brave, he wondered? Father
had said so, and yet just now he certainly felt something very like fear
at the very thought of the Goblin Lady.
In increasing perplexity he ruffled up his hair until it stood out wildly
in all directions; boom! boom! went the wind, and then there followed
a long wailing sort of sigh which seemed to come floating down from
the very top of the house.
It was quite a relief to hear Nancy's matter-of-fact voice just then, as
she chattered away about her dolls:
"Now, I shall brush Jemima's hair," Ambrose heard her say to Pennie,
"and you can put Lady Jane Grey to bed."
"I ought to be able to go," said Ambrose to himself, "and after all I
don't suppose the Goblin Lady can be worse than Farmer Snow's black
cow."
"But her head's almost off," put in Pennie's voice. "You did it the last
time we executed her."
"If I went," thought Ambrose, continuing his reflections, "they would
never, never be able to call me a coward again."
He slid off the table as he reached this point, and moved slowly
towards the door. He stood still as he opened it and looked at his sisters,
half hoping they would call him back, or ask where he was going, but
they were bending absorbed over the body of the unfortunate Lady Jane

Grey, so that two long flaxen pig-tails were turned towards him. They
did not even notice that he had moved.
He went quickly through the long dimly-lighted passage, which led into
the hall, and found that Mary was just lighting the lamp. This looked
cheerful, and he lingered a little and asked her a few questions, not that
he really wanted to know anything, but because light and human
companionship seemed just now so very desirable. Mary went away
soon, and then he strolled a few steps up the broad old staircase, and
met Kittles the fluffy cat coming slowly down. Here was another
excuse for putting off his journey, and