it up. As she groped her way along the tunnel, things Gwen had said kept popping up to the surface: “A girl about our age who disappeared…an old woman went around saying the girl was dead…this funny wailing noise in the adobe part of the house…”
But although Robin strained her ears until they felt stretched all out of shape, she heard nothing. Once the tunnel was behind her, her fears subsided. The big bare rooms of Palmeras House were sad and lonely, but not frightening.
Her bare feet flew soundlessly up the wide stairway, and then she was back in the Velvet Room. It was everything she had remembered, and more. As Robin closed the door behind her and leaned against it, a warm and graceful beauty seemed to welcome her. Here, in this room, she could never worry about the ghost of Las Palmeras. If there was a ghost in the Velvet Room, it was a gentle one.
That day Robin explored the entire room over again, from the gleaming curve of a chair’s leg to the features of the faces in the miniature paintings in the whatnot. There was one face in particular that held her interest. It was a tiny oval portrait of a young girl. The girl in the picture had calm dark eyes, a pointed chin, and a great deal of dark-brown hair. Her faint smile had a look of quietness and gentle strength.
She was wearing a dress with a high lacy collar. There was something disturbing about the face, as though it were familiar. Since the girl was probably a McCurdy, it seemed possible that she might resemble Gwen or her father, but Robin couldn’t really see any similarity.
It occurred to her that the girl in the portrait just might be the mysterious Bonita, the ghost of Las Palmeras. It was an interesting thought, and Robin squatted for a long time with her nose pressed to the glass of the whatnot case, just looking and wondering.
Next, she spent some time with the books. She had decided to start at one end of the room and work her way to the other. Not reading every book, of course — at least not at first. But just getting acquainted, and noticing interesting possibilities. Right away she found some beautifully illustrated copies of the Louisa May Alcott books. It took quite a while to look at all the pictures, so she decided to finish only the first shelf that day.
Finally, when the sun was getting very high and she knew she’d have to be leaving soon, Robin sat for just a little while on the window seat of the tower alcove. Curled up to the velvet cushions, she gazed down at the great green sea of orange trees. Secret and safe in the high stone tower, Robin felt that all the world was far away and not terribly important.
In the days that followed, Robin spent some time in the Velvet Room every morning. She brought a dust rag from home and dusted and polished the furniture, and even the floors, over and over. She spent a great deal of time stretched out on the window seat of the alcove with a book, or sometimes with only her thoughts and dreams.
Some of her favorite daydreams were about Palmeras House itself. She liked to imagine it as it had been — or perhaps as she would like it to be now, if it were her house. The dry mouths of the sea horses would bubble again with sparkling water, and golden fish would glimmer in the pool below. The stone floor of the portico would be scrubbed and polished like the floor of Bridget’s cottage, and the huge sloping lawn would spread a green carpet before the entry-way. The boards would be gone from the tall downstairs windows, and in every room there would be beautiful things, just as there were in the Velvet Room.
On several mornings Robin postponed her visit to the Velvet Room long enough for a short visit with Bridget. If Bridget was working in her garden, Robin sat on the ground and pulled up the weeds near the flowers that were hard to reach with a hoe. As they worked, they talked about all sorts of things.
Bridget had lots of interesting stories to tell about when she was a young woman
But although Robin strained her ears until they felt stretched all out of shape, she heard nothing. Once the tunnel was behind her, her fears subsided. The big bare rooms of Palmeras House were sad and lonely, but not frightening.
Her bare feet flew soundlessly up the wide stairway, and then she was back in the Velvet Room. It was everything she had remembered, and more. As Robin closed the door behind her and leaned against it, a warm and graceful beauty seemed to welcome her. Here, in this room, she could never worry about the ghost of Las Palmeras. If there was a ghost in the Velvet Room, it was a gentle one.
That day Robin explored the entire room over again, from the gleaming curve of a chair’s leg to the features of the faces in the miniature paintings in the whatnot. There was one face in particular that held her interest. It was a tiny oval portrait of a young girl. The girl in the picture had calm dark eyes, a pointed chin, and a great deal of dark-brown hair. Her faint smile had a look of quietness and gentle strength.
She was wearing a dress with a high lacy collar. There was something disturbing about the face, as though it were familiar. Since the girl was probably a McCurdy, it seemed possible that she might resemble Gwen or her father, but Robin couldn’t really see any similarity.
It occurred to her that the girl in the portrait just might be the mysterious Bonita, the ghost of Las Palmeras. It was an interesting thought, and Robin squatted for a long time with her nose pressed to the glass of the whatnot case, just looking and wondering.
Next, she spent some time with the books. She had decided to start at one end of the room and work her way to the other. Not reading every book, of course — at least not at first. But just getting acquainted, and noticing interesting possibilities. Right away she found some beautifully illustrated copies of the Louisa May Alcott books. It took quite a while to look at all the pictures, so she decided to finish only the first shelf that day.
Finally, when the sun was getting very high and she knew she’d have to be leaving soon, Robin sat for just a little while on the window seat of the tower alcove. Curled up to the velvet cushions, she gazed down at the great green sea of orange trees. Secret and safe in the high stone tower, Robin felt that all the world was far away and not terribly important.
In the days that followed, Robin spent some time in the Velvet Room every morning. She brought a dust rag from home and dusted and polished the furniture, and even the floors, over and over. She spent a great deal of time stretched out on the window seat of the alcove with a book, or sometimes with only her thoughts and dreams.
Some of her favorite daydreams were about Palmeras House itself. She liked to imagine it as it had been — or perhaps as she would like it to be now, if it were her house. The dry mouths of the sea horses would bubble again with sparkling water, and golden fish would glimmer in the pool below. The stone floor of the portico would be scrubbed and polished like the floor of Bridget’s cottage, and the huge sloping lawn would spread a green carpet before the entry-way. The boards would be gone from the tall downstairs windows, and in every room there would be beautiful things, just as there were in the Velvet Room.
On several mornings Robin postponed her visit to the Velvet Room long enough for a short visit with Bridget. If Bridget was working in her garden, Robin sat on the ground and pulled up the weeds near the flowers that were hard to reach with a hoe. As they worked, they talked about all sorts of things.
Bridget had lots of interesting stories to tell about when she was a young woman
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