We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson Page B

where Uncle Julian’s chair would go; I was not allowed to bury things in the lawn. On the moon we wore feathers in our hair, and rubies on our hands. On the moon we had gold spoons.
    â€œPerhaps today is a good day to begin a new chapter. Constance?”
    â€œYes, Uncle Julian?”
    â€œDo you think I should begin chapter forty-four today?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œSome of the early pages need a little brushing up. A work like this is never done.”
    â€œShall I brush your hair?”
    â€œI think I will brush it myself this morning, thank you. A man’s head should be his own responsibility, after all. I have no jam.”
    â€œShall I get you some?”
    â€œNo, because I see that I have somehow eaten all my toast. I fancy a broiled liver for my lunch, Constance.”
    â€œYou shall have it. Shall I take your tray?”
    â€œYes, thank you. And I will brush my hair.”
    Constance came back into the kitchen and set down the tray. “And now for you, my Merricat,” she said.
    â€œAnd Jonas.”
    â€œJonas had his breakfast long ago.”
    â€œWill you plant a leaf for me?”
    â€œOne of these days.” She turned her head and listened. “He is still asleep,” she said.
    â€œWho is still asleep? Will I watch it grow?”
    â€œCousin Charles is still asleep,” she said, and the day fell apart around me. I saw Jonas in the doorway and Constance by the stove but they had no color. I could not breathe, I was tied around tight, everything was cold.
    â€œHe was a ghost,” I said.
    Constance laughed, and it was a sound very far away. “Then a ghost is sleeping in Father’s bed,” she said. “And ate a very hearty dinner last night. While you were gone,” she said.
    â€œI dreamed that he came. I fell asleep on the ground and dreamed that he came, but then I dreamed him away.” I was held tight; when Constance believed me I could breathe again.
    â€œWe talked for a long time last night.”
    â€œGo and look,” I said, not breathing, “go and look; he isn’t there.”
    â€œSilly Merricat,” she said.
    I could not run; I had to help Constance. I took my glass and smashed it on the floor. “Now he’ll go away,” I said.
    Constance came to the table and sat down across from me, looking very serious. I wanted to go around the table and hug her, but she still had no color. “My Merricat,” she said slowly, “Cousin Charles is here. He is our cousin. As long as his father was alive—that was Arthur Blackwood, Father’s brother—Cousin Charles could not come to us, or try to help us, because his father would not allow him. His father,” she said, and smiled a little, “thought very badly of us. He refused to take care of you during the trial, did you know that? And he never let our names be mentioned in his house.”
    â€œThen why do you mention his name in our house?”
    â€œBecause I am trying to explain. As soon as his father died Cousin Charles hurried here to help us.”
    â€œHow can he help us? We’re very happy, aren’t we, Constance?”
    â€œVery happy, Merricat. But please be pleasant to Cousin Charles.”
    I could breathe a little; it was going to be all right. Cousin Charles was a ghost, but a ghost that could be driven away. “He’ll go away,” I said.
    â€œI don’t suppose he plans to stay forever,” Constance said. “He only came for a visit, after all.”
    I would have to find something, a device, to use against him. “Has Uncle Julian seen him?”
    â€œUncle Julian knows he is here, but Uncle Julian was too unwell last night to leave his room. He had his dinner on a tray, only a little soup. I was glad he asked for tea this morning.”
    â€œToday we neaten the house.”
    â€œLater, after Cousin Charles is awake. And I’d better sweep up that broken glass