Anne of Windy Poplars - L. M. Montgomery [106]
‘Oh, how –’
‘But at least we knew how it died. My half-aunt Eliza – at least, she would have been my half-aunt if she had lived – just disappeared when she was six years old. Nobody ever knew what became of her.’
‘But surely –’
‘Every search was made, but nothing was ever discovered. It was said that her mother – my step-grandmother – had been very cruel to an orphan niece of my grandfather’s who was being brought up here. She locked it up in the closet at the head of the stairs one hot summer day for punishment, and when she went to let it out she found it – dead. Some people thought it was a judgement on her when her own child vanished. But I think it was just our Curse.’
‘Who put –’
‘What a high instep you have, my dear! My instep used to be admired, too. It was said a stream of water could run under it – the test of an aristocrat.’
Miss Minerva modestly poked a slipper from under her velvet skirt, and revealed what was undoubtedly a very handsome foot.
‘It certainly –’
‘Would you like to see over the house, my dear, before we have supper? It used to be the pride of Summerside. I suppose everything is very old-fashioned now, but perhaps there are a few things of interest. That sword hanging by the head of the stairs belonged to my great-great-grandfather, who was an officer in the British Army, and received a grant of land in Prince Edward Island for his services. He never lived in this house, but my great-great-grandmother did for a few weeks. She did not long survive her son’s tragic death. She had a very bad heart after it, and when her youngest son, my great-uncle James, shot himself in the cellar the shock killed her. Uncle James did that because a girl he wished to marry threw him over. She was very beautiful – too beautiful to be quite good, I am afraid, my dear. It is a great temptation. I am afraid she was responsible for many a broken heart besides my poor great-uncle’s.’
Miss Minerva marched Anne ruthlessly over the whole huge house, full of great square rooms: ball-room, conservatory, billiard-room, three drawing-rooms, breakfast-room, no end of bedrooms, and an enormous attic. They were all splendid and dismal.
‘Those were my Uncle Ronald and my Uncle Reuben,’ said Miss Minerva, indicating two worthies who seemed to be scowling at each other from the opposite sides of a fireplace. ‘They were twins, and they hated each other bitterly from birth. The house rang with their quarrels. It darkened their mother’s whole life. And during their final quarrel in this very room, while a thunderstorm was going on, Reuben was killed by a flash of lightning. Ronald never got over it. He was a haunted man from that day. His wife,’ Miss Minerva added reminiscently, ‘swallowed her wedding-ring.’
‘What an ex –’
‘Ronald thought it was very careless, and wouldn’t have anything done. A prompt emetic might have… But it was never heard of again. It spoiled her life. She always felt so unmarried without a wedding-ring.’
‘What a beautiful –’
‘Oh, yes, that was my Aunt Emilia. Not my aunt really, of course. Just the wife of Uncle Alexander. She was noted for her spiritual look, but she poisoned her husband with a stew of mushrooms – toadstools really. We always pretended it was an accident, because a murder is such a messy thing to have in a family; but we all knew the truth. Of course, she married him against her will. She was a gay young thing, and he was far too old for her. December and May, my dear. Still, that did not really justify toadstools. She went into a decline soon afterwards. They are buried together in Charlottetown. All the Tomgallons bury in Charlottetown… This was my Aunt Louise. She drank laudanum. The doctor pumped it out and saved her, but we all felt we could never trust her again. It was really rather a relief when she died respectably of pneumonia. Of course, some of us didn’t blame