The Ghost Belonged to Me by Richard Peck Page B

settlers!”
    Dad joined her at the window and said, “It’s a Cadillac.”
    â€œWhat does that matter—a Cadillac, you say?”
    â€œYes,” said Dad, “and there is only one in town.”
    â€œMrs. Van Deeter!” Mother and Cousin Elvera shrieked in unison. I continued with my scrapple and bacon, though the noise was very nearly unbearable.
    Mother stood poised between the door to the front hall and the other one to the kitchen. She clearly didn’t know whether to take courage or to take flight. A gentle knocking came at the front door. “It is surely only their chauffeur,” Mother said, “but what can he want?”
    â€œWe could all go down the cellar and hide out in the coal bin until he’s gone,” Dad remarked to goad her on. Mother set off toward the front door, and the rest of us were not far behind. It’s not every day when the richest and most invisible people in six counties send their automobile around.
    Mother fumbled the door open, and there stood a lady. While not young, she was unusually beautiful. Warm though the morning was, she had a few fur skins draped around her shoulders, along with a big bunch of fresh violets. She was just turning the veil back over her hat, and there were a couple of rings on her fingers that could have served as Cadillac headlamps.
    â€œWhy, Mrs. Van Deeter, how do you do, I’m sure,” Mother said. “This is an unexpected pleasure. I do hope you were put to no trouble in getting past the guard.”
    â€œNone whatever,” Mrs. Van Deeter said, smiling firmly. “I hope you will permit a call at this unseemly hour. I have been remiss in my social obligations and am endeavoring to do better.”
    Mother recovered slowly. “May I present my—” She looked around to find us all there. “My—entire family.” She managed to introduce us all, though she was somewhat vague as to our names. Then Mrs. Van Deeter was shown into the parlor, and we all settled in around her. A silence followed while she arranged her fur skins.
    â€œIt is very nice to find you all in,” she said at length. “Quite like a family party.
    â€œI was so sorry to have missed your party, Miss Armsworth,” she said, suddenly remembering it, “and one reason for this call is to meet you. I read the sweet account of your debut in the Pantagraph.”
    Lucille gave her an uncertain smile, but the cat had her tongue.
    Mother sent me out to Gladys for a pot of coffee, so I missed the next part of the visit. I was hard put to convince Gladys we had a live Van Deeter in the parlor. But when she was persuaded, she took down the silver pot and the thin china. While I was bearing this away, I said, “And I guess you better go out and offer the chauffeur some coffee too since we are evidently moving in the limousine circle now.” Gladys said that this was truly the age of miracles.
    When I came back to the parlor, no one had budged. Dad seemed to forget he had work to go to, and no one told Lucille she was already late for school. Mrs. Van Deeter had them all under her spell. She marked my entry with some interest. “I suppose,” she said, “that I should confess the major impulse for my visit.” Coffee spoons stopped stirring all around the parlor. “I am a reader of the St. Louis Democrat.”
    Mother drooped, saying, “Then I suppose you must have a dreadful impression of us, Mrs. Van Deeter. I could not blame you if you condemn us for the worst kind of publicity-seeking.”
    â€œNot at all,” Mrs. Van Deeter said, smiling into her coffee cup. “On the contrary, I think this is the most interesting thing to have occurred in Bluff City in ages. It comes in good time. I for one had nearly expired of monotony. And I wonder if you might persuade Alexander to show me his Ghost Barn.”
    â€œOh, Alexander, see how low you have brought us!”