Give Me

Within fifteen minutes, the three women were sitting at the table, sipping tea and eating toast. Ellen was still asleep in another room.

"And then she said I knew what she wanted, and I don't know why, but I was so scared. That was when I screamed," Gladys said, finishing her story.

"It's the girl, ma'am," Josephine said gravely. "The one that I told you about."

"What girl?" Mary said in a timid voice.

"Don't listen to what she says, Mary," Gladys warned.

"The girl that died in this house," Josephine replied, as if Gladys hadn't spoken.

Mary went very still, her tea-cup freezing halfway to her lips. "A girl died here?"

"In that room beside the den," Josephine said, nodding wisely, "the one we keep locked. You see, many years ago, a family by the name of Smithton lived here. They were quite wealthy, you know, the father being a doctor and all. There were three children, two girls and a boy. Well, this one dark night, the father stole something from the girl in that room, something that was really his fault anyway. She was sad at first, and then she was very, very angry. She died that same night, from the loss of blood, her father said. But I don't believe that's what killed her, oh, no, not at all. 'Twas her rage, together with her broken heart."

"The loss of blood?" Mary said in a small voice.

"That is enough," Gladys said sharply. She couldn't blame Mary for being frightened; Josephine could be very intense at times. Really, though, this was all ridiculous. "Josephine, I hoped you've entertained yourself well enough for the day. And for your information, that door is not staying locked. I plan to check the room soon enough. I may use it for a nursery for Ellen. In fact, come with me now, Mary, we're going to open that door. You do have your keys, don't you?"

Gladys and Mary both rose, but Josephine sat stunned in her chair. "Ma'am, you cannot! Have you not listened to what I've said? The girl is not at rest! It was stolen from her, and she wants it back! She herself will steal to get what she wants! She is not at rest--"

"She is dead," Gladys replied. "I was told about the deaths when I purchased this house. It was you that added the scandals and the ghosts to the original truth."

"Deaths?" Mary asked. "I thought there was only one."

"He got rid of what he stole," was Josephine's morbid response.

"Not another word," Gladys said as Josephine began to open her mouth. "I'll have no more of your tales for today."

The three women journeyed to the living room, Josephine protesting emphatically the whole time. They at last reached the door. When Mary found the right key and inserted it into the lock, the oldest woman uttered a muffled shriek.

"You don't know what you are doing!" she said loudly. "You've seen her in your dreams, but, ma'am, if you open that door--if you make the room a nursery--!"

"Hush!" Gladys commanded. "You will wake Ellen!"

Then, the door was open.

It was a plain room, bare except for an old bed-frame in one corner. Gladys would have to have that removed, but aside from it, the room would be perfect for a nursery. She smiled as she looked around it. She tapped her foot against the hard-wood floor, listening to the heavy stomp her foot made.

At this, Josephine jumped. She had slowly followed the other two women into the room and was staring around it with a deadened expression on her old face.

"See now?" Gladys said, pleased.