A Drowned Maiden's Hair_ A Melodrama - Laura Amy Schlitz [79]
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good girl. I’ll write Eleanor this evening, and we’ll rehearse tomorrow. Judith and I are agreed at last — I’ve come round to her idea that you should materialize now, so as to be sure of the money.” A faint frown appeared between Hyacinth’s brows. “Do you know you look rather frightened? I hope you’re not going to develop stage fright now, when we’re depending on you.”
“I’m not frightened,” Maud retorted. “It’s just —” She felt her throat tighten. “It’s just that it gets so hot in the map cupboard. I can’t breathe. Can’t Judith drill more holes in the back wall?”
Hyacinth considered the request. “I don’t believe she could. The wood’s rather thin as it is — it’s cracked in spots. Too many holes and it’ll splinter into bits. But never mind — you won’t be inside the whole time. You’ll be able to breathe once you materialize.”
Maud gazed at her distrustfully. “Are you sure when she sees me — she’ll think I’m Caroline?”
“How could I be sure?” Hyacinth sounded surprised that she had asked. “There’s always a risk. But you must remember, Mrs. Lambert will want to believe you’re Caroline. She will want that more than anything else in the world.”
Maud swallowed. It was true. If she succeeded in deceiving Mrs. Lambert, she would be granting her heart’s desire. It was just a question of pulling the thing off. “I know my lines,” Maud said in a small voice.
“Of course you do.” Hyacinth’s gaze was searching. “And so you should. We’re counting on you to do your very best. Remember that.”
On the morning of the séance, Maud woke to the sound of high wind and drenching rain. She left her bed and stood by the window, peering between the curtain and the window frame. The roof slates shimmered with water. Perhaps Mrs. Lambert would not come. Heartened by the thought, Maud tripped down to breakfast with a light step. She was even able to enjoy the pancakes Muffet set before her.
“Of course she’ll come,” Hyacinth assured her when Maud broached the subject. “She has a carriage. Besides, she’d wade through high water to talk to Caroline.”
Maud thought Hyacinth was probably right. She spent the afternoon going through her cues one last time. The Hawthorne sisters rehearsed for two hours before the electricity went out.
Hyacinth was pleased. “That’s the one thing I was worried about — the streetlamps letting in too much light. Now, if only the power lines stay down until this evening —”
“They won’t,” predicted Judith. “The sky’s clearing.”
But Hyacinth got her wish. The lights stayed off. A little before suppertime, the wind blew the clouds into patches, revealing a sky the color of morning glories. Maud’s last hope died. She borrowed Muffet’s cards and played one game of solitaire after another, fretting all the while. When suppertime came, she could not eat. She picked up Ragged Dick but lost patience with it; Dick was so honest and manly and cheerful that Maud wanted to slap him. She shoved the book under her pillow and prayed that Eleanor Lambert would believe she was Caroline.
Mrs. Lambert arrived early. Maud was costumed and wigged when Hyacinth detected the sound of carriage wheels. “Tiresome woman!” Hyacinth hissed as she hustled Maud into the map cupboard. Maud agreed. How foolish of Mrs. Lambert to come early, to imagine that séances could be performed without prior preparation.
Ten minutes passed. Inside the map cupboard,