Uneasy Spirits: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery by M. Louisa Locke Page B
Authors: M. Louisa Locke
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her surprise.
Miss Herron suddenly pointed, saying, “Mrs. Fuller, look, Mrs. Frampton has arrived! It must be time for us to form the circle.” She then put her glass down on the sideboard and ran towards Arabella Frampton, uttering small cries, rather like an excited schoolgirl.
Tonight the medium was dressed in an exquisite outfit of pale green. The embroidered cuirass-style top was quite long, leaving room for only two deep flounces in the skirt, and its collar was lined with lace, dyed a darker hue, which drew the eye down to a rather daring décolletage, which revealed her quite substantial natural attributes. Annie fought off a stab of real jealousy at how beautifully the ensemble complimented Arabella’s coloring and how dowdy her own refurbished brown striped camel’s-hair suit, with its single flounce and braiding, was, in comparison.
She then heard Mrs. Larkson, who had been abandoned by Mr. Sweeter as rapidly as Miss Herron had abandoned her, mutter under her breath, “Oh, goody. Our resident witch is here.” For some reason this made Annie feel much better.
“ Mrs. Fuller, if you would please come and sit by me at this end of the table,” said Simon Frampton, who had slipped up behind her while she had been eavesdropping on Mrs. Larkson. He took her arm, gently guided her past the fireplace, and pulled out a solid-looking chair for her near the end of the table. As she sat down she saw that the arms of the chair pinned her in. No running around in the dark to catch out their tricks for me ! She looked to her right and into the hallway, since the pocket doors had not yet been closed, and saw Kathleen sitting on a chair near the front door. Annie had the unexpected impulse to take out her handkerchief and wave at her, rather as someone who was standing on the bridge of a departing ship might do to a friend on shore who had come to see them off.
Simon Frampton sat down next to her at one end of the large oval table while his wife sat at the other end. J ust as if they were father and mother to this little gathering. Sitting on Annie’s left was the banker, Mr. Ruckner, then came Mrs. Larkson, followed by Mr. Sweeter, who seemed very pleased to be seated next to Arabella. Sitting with their backs to the hallway were Mr. Hapgood, then the nurse, Miss Herron, Judge Babcock, and finally on Simon’s right, the woman who Annie had to assume was Mrs. Mott. This woman looked to be in her sixties, at least, with thin gray hair pulled back into a simple circled braid. Her face was long, with deep lines that pulled down the corners of her mouth. She had a square chin and a decidedly long nose, on which perched a pair of thin wire spectacles. Hatchet-faced was the term that came to mind. Two pink splotches on her cheeks and the faded blue of her eyes were the only color about her person, since she was wearing a severe black silk, that, while of excellent material, hung loosely from her spare frame. The woman noticed Annie looking at her and used this as an invitation to reach across Simon to shake her hand, saying, “My dear, I don’t believe we have met. I’m Daisy Mott.”
Her smile transformed her plain features, and Annie, her hand being warmly shaken, now understood why Frampton had called Mrs. Mott motherly.
While everyone had been taking their chairs, Albert, the butler, had been moving around the room, extinguishing the lamps. He moved to the pocket doors that led to the hallway and pulled them shut, plunging the room into almost total darkness. There was only a faint glow around a screen that he placed in front of the fireplace. As Annie’s eyes began to adjust, she heard a noise behind her. Twisting around, she saw that Albert had opened a set of doors that led to a smaller parlor behind her, which contained a tall cabinet. In that cabinet sat a girl, illuminated by a lamp sitting on the room’s fireplace mantel. This young girl was all dressed in white, including some sort of gauzy scarf that was
Miss Herron suddenly pointed, saying, “Mrs. Fuller, look, Mrs. Frampton has arrived! It must be time for us to form the circle.” She then put her glass down on the sideboard and ran towards Arabella Frampton, uttering small cries, rather like an excited schoolgirl.
Tonight the medium was dressed in an exquisite outfit of pale green. The embroidered cuirass-style top was quite long, leaving room for only two deep flounces in the skirt, and its collar was lined with lace, dyed a darker hue, which drew the eye down to a rather daring décolletage, which revealed her quite substantial natural attributes. Annie fought off a stab of real jealousy at how beautifully the ensemble complimented Arabella’s coloring and how dowdy her own refurbished brown striped camel’s-hair suit, with its single flounce and braiding, was, in comparison.
She then heard Mrs. Larkson, who had been abandoned by Mr. Sweeter as rapidly as Miss Herron had abandoned her, mutter under her breath, “Oh, goody. Our resident witch is here.” For some reason this made Annie feel much better.
“ Mrs. Fuller, if you would please come and sit by me at this end of the table,” said Simon Frampton, who had slipped up behind her while she had been eavesdropping on Mrs. Larkson. He took her arm, gently guided her past the fireplace, and pulled out a solid-looking chair for her near the end of the table. As she sat down she saw that the arms of the chair pinned her in. No running around in the dark to catch out their tricks for me ! She looked to her right and into the hallway, since the pocket doors had not yet been closed, and saw Kathleen sitting on a chair near the front door. Annie had the unexpected impulse to take out her handkerchief and wave at her, rather as someone who was standing on the bridge of a departing ship might do to a friend on shore who had come to see them off.
Simon Frampton sat down next to her at one end of the large oval table while his wife sat at the other end. J ust as if they were father and mother to this little gathering. Sitting on Annie’s left was the banker, Mr. Ruckner, then came Mrs. Larkson, followed by Mr. Sweeter, who seemed very pleased to be seated next to Arabella. Sitting with their backs to the hallway were Mr. Hapgood, then the nurse, Miss Herron, Judge Babcock, and finally on Simon’s right, the woman who Annie had to assume was Mrs. Mott. This woman looked to be in her sixties, at least, with thin gray hair pulled back into a simple circled braid. Her face was long, with deep lines that pulled down the corners of her mouth. She had a square chin and a decidedly long nose, on which perched a pair of thin wire spectacles. Hatchet-faced was the term that came to mind. Two pink splotches on her cheeks and the faded blue of her eyes were the only color about her person, since she was wearing a severe black silk, that, while of excellent material, hung loosely from her spare frame. The woman noticed Annie looking at her and used this as an invitation to reach across Simon to shake her hand, saying, “My dear, I don’t believe we have met. I’m Daisy Mott.”
Her smile transformed her plain features, and Annie, her hand being warmly shaken, now understood why Frampton had called Mrs. Mott motherly.
While everyone had been taking their chairs, Albert, the butler, had been moving around the room, extinguishing the lamps. He moved to the pocket doors that led to the hallway and pulled them shut, plunging the room into almost total darkness. There was only a faint glow around a screen that he placed in front of the fireplace. As Annie’s eyes began to adjust, she heard a noise behind her. Twisting around, she saw that Albert had opened a set of doors that led to a smaller parlor behind her, which contained a tall cabinet. In that cabinet sat a girl, illuminated by a lamp sitting on the room’s fireplace mantel. This young girl was all dressed in white, including some sort of gauzy scarf that was
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