got back in the station wagon.
Violet watched David as they drove off. The boy didn’t look up. “David seems kind of strange.”
“Maybe he’s just shy,” Jessie said, burying her nose in the bouquet of spring blooms.
But Violet didn’t think so. She thought David was about to say something and his mother stopped him. But she forgot about Heather and David as Grandfather turned the car onto a pitted asphalt lane.
“Boy,” said Benny. “This is the longest driveway.”
“It is long,” Grandfather agreed, as the car bounced over a pothole. “Althea could use a load of gravel in these holes. And those bushes need to be cut back.”
Locust trees and honeysuckle vines grew densely along each side. The thick shrubbery gave Jessie the creeps. If the driveway was this bad, what would the house be like?
Suddenly the trees gave way to a wide, sloping lawn. The land looped around a crumbling goldfish pond. A large stone fish balanced on its tail in the center of the empty pool.
Jessie gasped when she saw the house. Three stories of pinkish red brick soared above a half-moon porch. Massive white pillars supported the porch roof. A brick-paved walk, bordered by red and yellow tulips, led to the steps.
“Wow!” Benny exclaimed. “What a big house!”
Grandfather parked the car. “Yes, Peacock Hall is quite impressive. But the porch needs painting and the flower beds are full of weeds. Why has Althea let the place get so run-down?”
Everyone climbed out. Henry unloaded the luggage and they each took a bag up the steps.
Grandfather rang the bell. After a short pause, the heavy oak door swung inward.
“James!” said the old woman who stood there. “I’m so glad you’re here! And you brought your grandchildren!”
“Hello, Althea,” said Grandfather, putting out his hand. “Yes, these are my grandchildren. This is Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.”
“Welcome,” Althea Randolph greeted them. “Please come in! You must be exhausted after that trip.”
She led them down a long hall and into a high-ceilinged room with peach-colored walls. Portraits of stern-looking men and women glared down at the visitors.
“Sit down,” Althea offered. “I’ve made some lemonade.”
While Althea poured drinks, Jessie studied her cousin. She was older than Grandfather. Snow-white curls framed a face that was still pretty. Althea wore a lace-collared print dress with a silver pin.
Grandfather accepted his glass with a nod of thanks. “Althea, do you live here alone? I know your husband passed away some years ago.”
“Yes,” Althea replied. “Grayson died eight years ago. We had no children, you know. Old Tate lives on the grounds. He’s the gardener, but he doesn’t do much these days.”
“How old is this house?” Henry asked, looking at the iron implements hanging from the fireplace.
Althea brightened. “Peacock Hall is very old. It was originally built in 1814 by my husband’s ancestor, Zachary Randolph. Zachary was friends with Thomas Jefferson. Did you know that Monticello, Jefferson’s estate, is nearby?”
Henry nodded. “Thomas Jefferson was the third president.”
Violet felt like she was living in a history lesson. “How did the house get its name?”
“Zachary brought a pair of peacocks with him from England,” Althea replied. “Well, a peacock and a peahen, as the female bird is called. Anyway, it’s family tradition that there are always peacocks on the lawn.”
Benny’s eyes grew bright. “Where are the peacocks now?” He’d seen pictures of the colorful birds.
“You’ll see them,” Althea said. Then she added soberly, “Though I don’t know how long the tradition will last.”
Grandfather said, “Your letter sounded urgent.”
Althea’s blue eyes clouded. “Oh, James, I’m in such terrible trouble! I owe some money in back taxes on this place. If I don’t pay by Friday, I’ll be evicted and Peacock Hall will be auctioned!”
“Can they do
Violet watched David as they drove off. The boy didn’t look up. “David seems kind of strange.”
“Maybe he’s just shy,” Jessie said, burying her nose in the bouquet of spring blooms.
But Violet didn’t think so. She thought David was about to say something and his mother stopped him. But she forgot about Heather and David as Grandfather turned the car onto a pitted asphalt lane.
“Boy,” said Benny. “This is the longest driveway.”
“It is long,” Grandfather agreed, as the car bounced over a pothole. “Althea could use a load of gravel in these holes. And those bushes need to be cut back.”
Locust trees and honeysuckle vines grew densely along each side. The thick shrubbery gave Jessie the creeps. If the driveway was this bad, what would the house be like?
Suddenly the trees gave way to a wide, sloping lawn. The land looped around a crumbling goldfish pond. A large stone fish balanced on its tail in the center of the empty pool.
Jessie gasped when she saw the house. Three stories of pinkish red brick soared above a half-moon porch. Massive white pillars supported the porch roof. A brick-paved walk, bordered by red and yellow tulips, led to the steps.
“Wow!” Benny exclaimed. “What a big house!”
Grandfather parked the car. “Yes, Peacock Hall is quite impressive. But the porch needs painting and the flower beds are full of weeds. Why has Althea let the place get so run-down?”
Everyone climbed out. Henry unloaded the luggage and they each took a bag up the steps.
Grandfather rang the bell. After a short pause, the heavy oak door swung inward.
“James!” said the old woman who stood there. “I’m so glad you’re here! And you brought your grandchildren!”
“Hello, Althea,” said Grandfather, putting out his hand. “Yes, these are my grandchildren. This is Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny.”
“Welcome,” Althea Randolph greeted them. “Please come in! You must be exhausted after that trip.”
She led them down a long hall and into a high-ceilinged room with peach-colored walls. Portraits of stern-looking men and women glared down at the visitors.
“Sit down,” Althea offered. “I’ve made some lemonade.”
While Althea poured drinks, Jessie studied her cousin. She was older than Grandfather. Snow-white curls framed a face that was still pretty. Althea wore a lace-collared print dress with a silver pin.
Grandfather accepted his glass with a nod of thanks. “Althea, do you live here alone? I know your husband passed away some years ago.”
“Yes,” Althea replied. “Grayson died eight years ago. We had no children, you know. Old Tate lives on the grounds. He’s the gardener, but he doesn’t do much these days.”
“How old is this house?” Henry asked, looking at the iron implements hanging from the fireplace.
Althea brightened. “Peacock Hall is very old. It was originally built in 1814 by my husband’s ancestor, Zachary Randolph. Zachary was friends with Thomas Jefferson. Did you know that Monticello, Jefferson’s estate, is nearby?”
Henry nodded. “Thomas Jefferson was the third president.”
Violet felt like she was living in a history lesson. “How did the house get its name?”
“Zachary brought a pair of peacocks with him from England,” Althea replied. “Well, a peacock and a peahen, as the female bird is called. Anyway, it’s family tradition that there are always peacocks on the lawn.”
Benny’s eyes grew bright. “Where are the peacocks now?” He’d seen pictures of the colorful birds.
“You’ll see them,” Althea said. Then she added soberly, “Though I don’t know how long the tradition will last.”
Grandfather said, “Your letter sounded urgent.”
Althea’s blue eyes clouded. “Oh, James, I’m in such terrible trouble! I owe some money in back taxes on this place. If I don’t pay by Friday, I’ll be evicted and Peacock Hall will be auctioned!”
“Can they do
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