The Jade God by Alan Sullivan (snow like ashes series txt) 📕

“Nothing whatever, and, Mrs. Thursby, please, I don’t want him to know just yet. I hope your husband won’t say anything. Jack is so sensitive and imaginative that it would divert him completely from his work, which at the present is very important.”

The stout woman laughed. “My husband is probably talking hard about roses and garden-mold. He’s got that on the brain now instead of grenades, and it’s much healthier. And if I were you I wouldn’t worry about Mr. Millicent. So now you know how we found Perkins, and I must say she kept the house spotless. But she was so quiet that it did get a bit on my nerves. She went about as though expecting something or someone, till I used to feel like asking her to shout out who or what it was. And, as I said, she never liked me.”

“How very strange!”

“I’m afraid I’ve rather let myself go on the subject, but I’ve told you all I know. It may be that Perkins likes things old and subdued like this, while I confess that I like them more new and shiny. Perhaps that’s why she wants to stay, if she does want to. I know how you can find out without asking.”

“How?” said Edith curiously.

“If she smiles at you, it will be all right. She never smiled at me.”

“I’m afraid I should need rather more than that.”

Mrs. Thursby shook her head impulsively. “I don’t believe you will. It’s a queer sort of house, if I do say it.”

“Did you ever imagine it was haunted?” Miss Derrick knew the question sounded childish, but it came out involuntarily. Much to her surprise Mrs. Thursby took it quite seriously.

“I did at first, but soon got over that. No, we’ve never been bothered. There’s a bit of creaking now and then, but not more than in any house of this sort, and certainly we never saw anything.” She paused, then went on quite frankly. “The real reason I came here today was to see whether it was likely that you and Perkins would hit it off, and if not I would have advised you to get rid of her, if you could; but whether the queerness is in the house or in her I really don’t know. It’s somewhere, not the sort of thing that can hurt, but that one just feels without knowing why.” She paused a moment.

“As to your brother, I’d advise you to say nothing at all if he’s the kind of man you describe. He’s bound to find out for himself. And if you’re wondering, Miss Derrick, why we should have let you take the house and then talk about it like this, the reason is that I may be misjudging Perkins altogether, and the whole affair may just be the result of my own imagination. Don’t take any notice of her, and everything should be all right. Now tell me: does it seem to you that I’ve said a lot of foolish things?”

“Not at all. I think you’ve been extremely kind, and, if I may say so, very honest, and it should all help very much, especially with Perkins. My brother had to have a quiet place to work in, and this should do admirably. I really don’t believe in ghosts; neither does he.”

“He’ll find it quiet enough here,” replied Mrs. Thursby significantly.

Voices sounded in the hall, and Derrick entered with his landlord. He looked pleased, as though Beech Lodge had revealed unexpected attractions.

“We’re going to have lots of roses next summer, Edith. Never saw a better lot of trees. Mr. Thursby has shown me everything. Place out there I can work in, too, when the decent weather comes.”

Edith nodded. “How very nice!” She turned to Mrs. Thursby. “One of my principal duties is to keep out of the way of a toiling author, yet to be on hand when wanted. Jack has always pictured himself working in a garden. Now we’ll have some tea.”

“That’s true, but who’s going to look after the roses? What about your late gardener, Mr. Thursby? Is he available for a man of moderate means?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know where he is. There should be somebody in the village who’d like the job.”

“And I’m sorry we can’t stay for tea,” put in his wife; “we have rather a long way to go.” She stole a glance at the portrait, her expression suggesting to Edith that there were already too many in the room.

“So thanks just the same,” said Thursby, “but as a matter of fact we have to be back in town within the hour, and that means hustling. We’re off to France for a while next week, but not the battlefields this time. If you’re ready, Helen, we’ll make a start now. Goodbye, Miss Derrick, and I hope you’ll be comfortable. My agent will look after any repairs, if you let him know. It may be we’ll pass here again, and if so I’ll drop in. And I want to read that book when it comes out.”

He spoke so abruptly that Miss Derrick was a little startled and felt now that while Mrs. Thursby had told her a good deal it was probably not all. Her first impulse was to betray nothing to her brother.

“Can’t you really stay for a few minutes? Tea is ready.” She rang the bell.

“We’d love to,” Mrs. Thursby assured her hastily. “But it’s quite impossible. I hope we’ll have better luck next time.” She put out a plump hand.

Derrick indulged in a puzzled glance. The manner of their departure was unmistakably hasty. He intercepted another wordless signal and felt suddenly amused.

“Would you like tea in the other room?” he hazarded.

The little man shook his head with decision. “It isn’t that at all, I assure you.” Then the door opened, and Perkins stood motionless on the threshold, her eyes fixed on Miss Derrick. She seemed unaware there were others present. Mrs. Thursby busied herself with her gloves and did not look up.

“You rang, madam?”

“Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Thursby are not staying for tea.”

Derrick had a strange