Chapter IV

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Episode Transcript

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Chapter four of Sinister House by LelandHall. The LibriVox recording is in the
public domain. Read by Ben Tucker, Chapter four. All this happened early
in September. The weather had beenuncertain from the middle of August, and
the day after Eric came home wasfurious with rain and wind. We hadn't

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a very cheerful breakfast, Annette andI and the children. Felicia had had
nightmares too, and had let theeggs burn. But I remember saying to
my wife when I got home thatnight, very wet and tired, that
it was sure to blow and rainitself out at last, in time for
my vacation, which I always tookin the fall, and which was due
to begin the next week. That'sjust what happened. After the fourteenth or

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fifteenth of September, we had athree weeks spell of the loveliest weather you
can imagine. I always have beenlucky on my vacation. But it wasn't
the spell of weather, but thevisit of Giles to our house and what
he brought with him or stirred upthat have made that epoch of vivid memory
to me, one which has stayedjust behind my every day since for nearly
four years. At the time,none of that was so real to me

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as my enjoyment of the mild falldays, sowing the lawn, setting out
bulbs. Anette and I crocuses,daffodils, squoils. She can tell you
what they were, though I thinkit was Giles that set us to doing
it, tinkering with the ford andpolishing it, days of golf and picnics
with the children up the river.It may be temperamental with me, and
the word makes me laugh, butI've always found joy just as real as

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sorrow, more real. Indeed,everything bad that comes to me seems like
an unpleasant dream from which I'm alwayslooking to wake up, whereas when I'm
having a good time, I don'twant to go to bed at all.
Half our sorrows come from an overbalancedmind, and the other half are aggravated
by too much thinking on one's self. I went on having a sensible,

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happy time while two persons whom Iknew intimately were being stretched tighter and tighter
on a rack. And not untilI was caught in the infernal thing myself
had I the slightest suspicion of whatwas going on. Of course I heard
the gossip, but I didn't heedit, And in our nightly counsels I
scolded a net for listening to itand favoring it. As a matter of

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fact, she countenanced no more ofit than appeased her pique at Julia.
That was very slight, after all, and pardonable. If you confess with
proper humility that you don't see something, and the one to whom you confess
it replies with no, I supposenot in a tone you take to mean
poor thing. You ought to seeit, but you haven't since enough,
or you aren't refined enough, oryou aren't made of the right stuff.

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Well, it puts you on thelook out for the beam in the other
fellow's eye, no matter how muchyou may admire him. The trouble was,
we both see now that Annette misunderstoodJulia's meaning entirely. The little remark,
if it was anything but a blindrang with envy rather than with contempt.
I used to laugh to see Annettetrying to pump her cousin for the

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latest dope on the arts. Olivinnette'sfamily, except Giles, were good sensible
people like herself, and Giles alwaysremained a freak to them, some one
for whom an apology or at leastan explanation was necessary. I dare say
no one of them, save mywife, ever thought to profit by his
abilities and take a little schooling athis hands. But she used in those

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days to ask him questions as ifshe were humoring him, and entirely nonchalantly,
And she quite fooled me. Notuntil I began to hear queer words
of his lingo, such as compositionvalues chiaroscura fall from her own serene lips
did I realize what she was upto. And he he must have known
it too, and if he gaveout anything at all to her, it

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must have been with utmost carelessness.He didn't care a snap of his finger
about our sense of beauty. Heknew us for just what we were,
pitied us for that, liked usfor that, and once confessed to me
envied us for that, which lastI take to mean that no one would
be an artist if he could helpit. But i'm us say, Giles
is a fine fellow and a gentleman. He has since died fighting for France,

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which he was the first to makeme understand would be fighting for the
soul of the world. As forthe gossip, I had rather pass over
it. But since I am goingto plunge into the heart of the affair
and must perforce confine myself to whateither Annette or I actually saw or experienced,
I'd better tell you some of themany yarns so that you will have
an idea of how the strange dramaimpressed the circle of Foresby's best. So

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far as I can remember, upto the time of Giles long stay with
us, the only thing Foresby hadagainst Eric and Julia, and gossip,
you know, is always what youhave against the other fellow, was the
fact that they live in that gloomyold house. Julia was exceedingly charming.
Eric was, by contrast, reserved. I've already told you that the house
was uncanny to most of us.Added to their choice of such a dwelling,

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their dress, their independent manners,and their way of speech were enough
to brand them. Is different Tobe different is I have observed invariably blameworthy,
And in this case Eric naturally washeld to blame. There was something
queer about him. I mean,that was the gossip. It never got
going very strong to tell the truth, I think most of us stood a

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little in awe of him. Butduring the six weeks that followed his dramatic
home coming, it so happened thathe was now at home, now off
on another trip, and Forsby noticednot only that in the periods of his
being at home, Julia was paleand depressed and didn't appear often on the
links of the Caraway Club in Stanton, but that when he was away she

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brightened up in appearance and manners,and played golf almost every day. Well,
Giles was with her a very greatdeal during the days and sometimes weeks
that Eric was away. They usedto play golf together and to take long
walks together, and he was almostevery afternoon at her house for tea,
whether Eric was at home or not. It wasn't surprising that the ladies began

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to whisper among themselves, nor wasit surprising that they came to the decision
that Giles was in love with Julia, that Julia glad of Giles's company,
that everything wasn't peaches and cream inthe Greer household, but let it go.
The saddest part of it was thatEric at one time probably heard some
of it. He was so sensitivethat it didn't take much of a hint
to make him worry. Yet,as I have already told you, he

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could never have doubted Julia's love forhim. Now, to go back to
my story, it must have beena Friday night that Eric came home so
unexpectedly from his first trip away.Though he told me that he had only
thirty six hours to pass at homewith his wife, he did not leave
until Monday morning. This I rememberbecause early Monday morning I telephoned Julia.

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I was going down to the trainstation from New York to meet Giles,
from whom we had received a telegramthe night before. I wanted to see
Julia, and I thought that perhapsI might give her a lift along the
road somewhere, or take some letterdown to the station for her. Besides,
the Ford was working wonderfully well thatmorning. You understand, we had
seen nothing of Eric or Julia sincethat Friday night. They were at that

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time so wrapped up in each otherthat we should not have thought of breaking
in on them. To my surprise, Eric answered the telephone, and it
was he who was glad of achance to be taken to the station.
There was a train down to NewYork just before Giles's train up from there
was due. Eric was leaving onthat so I hustled over for him in
the ford. It was a wonderfulmorning. The shadows under the hemlocks by

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Eric's house were the only dark thingsI saw, and I always felt,
rather than saw them. Eric waswaiting for me on the steps to the
front door, with his bags athis feet. Julia was standing beside him,
heavily veiled. Will you be goodenough to take me along too?
She asked, in an unusually lowvoice. I want to go with Eric

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as far as I can, andEric added, with great tenderness, I
want her to have a lot ofthis sweet fresh air. Then, for
Heaven's sake, take off that thickveil. Julia I cried, it's a
gorgeous day. Don't shut it out. There's no dust, the roads are
still wet. Do my dear Ericurged, No one will see that mark.

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All the black and blue spots inthe world wouldn't make any difference to
me or to any one. Shestood beside him. I was going to
say, trembling. I never sawJulia tremble while she had strength enough to
stand on her feet. But therewas something about her that morning suggestive of
extreme weakness, and I had afeeling of uncertainty about her health. Have

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you had a fall, Julia,I asked anxiously. The silly girl walked
in her sleep last night, Ericexplained, and bumped her cheek in the
way of a joke. I shouted, oh you, lady macbeth. I
had a moment's pride of my knowledgeof Shakespeare. But Julia put her hand
up in protest. Don't say that, She cried, I've done nothing,

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nothing I can think of. Icould see that I had upset her,
all right, Julia, I said, I'll take your word for it,
only please take off that funeral crapeand enjoy the morning sunshine. There's nothing
better than cool for fresh air forthe black and blue spots. That was
a fatuous remark, but it pleasedEric. We could not persuade Julia to

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lift her veil. However, inher simple gray frock, she looked like
a girl, but for the wretchedblack drapery about her head, a device
which in my eyes always gives womenthe appearance of victims going to the block
to have their heads cut off.Not one word did either of them say
too or for me? As Idrove them through flat foresby to the station
that morning, but I heard theirlow, affectionate voices all the way.

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That was a pleasant sound, andtogether with the golden September weather dearly morning
sun in the clean washed air,drove from my mind the thought it had
harbored for a moment that this Juliawas not the merry Julia of our little
Friday night dinner. I remember ashock at the station, however, they
were greatly upset at parting, muchas they controlled themselves, and I left

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them standing on the platform and steppedto my car just alongside. As the
train came in, she threw upher veil to take his kiss, and
then I caught a glimpse of herface. Anguish at parting might have taken
the blood from her cheeks. Butwhen after the train had pulled out of
the station, she came towards me, her veil still lifted, I saw
she was haggard as well as pale. Tears were in her eyes. Just

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a step or two she appeared uncertainin her movement, and then she set
her lips and came forward staunchly.She ignored the hand I offered to help
her into the car, and withouteven looking at me, stepped in and
took her seat. Calmly. Isaw the mark high on the right cheek
bone, the discoloration spreading up underthe outer corner of the eye. She
had forgotten about her veils being lifted. Indeed, I now know that she

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wore it to hide her face fromEric. Only up to the final scene,
it remained her greatest care to concealfrom Eric as far as she could
the signs of her suffering, thenature of which she had determined he must
not know. After a while,she blew her nose a little, coughed,
and then turned her moist gray eyesto meet my too anxious Look.
How foolish I am to love him, so she said, smiling a little.

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In the few minutes we had towait for Giles's train, we said
nothing. She was completing the masteryover herself. From time to time I
stole a glance at her sweet,determined little face. After her tears had
ceased to flow, she sat quietlywith her hands folded in her lap,
and devoted herself more and more toher own thoughts, no detail of which
was recorded on the sensitive white maskof her face. Under her breast and

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throat. I saw waves of emotionrise and fall, but her firm lips
were locked against the force of them. It was a relief to hear Giles's
train come rumbling into the station wewere waiting on the inbound side. After
the train had pulled out, Isaw Giles on the other platform across the
tracks. He had a couple ofheavy bags at his feet, and he

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was looking irascibly up and down andall around, shouting porter at men on
our side of the rails, pointinghis cane at them, behaving as he
usually behaves, as if the wholeworld were reprehensibly indifferent to him, and
he wouldn't put up with it muchlonger. But I really envied in Giles
was not his ability as an artist, or his money, or his swagger
English clothes, but his contemptuous indifferenceto making a scene. The two or

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three huskies on our side of thestation merely gave him the once over and
went on about their business. Oh, my beloved America, have we not
much to learn about the treatment ofartists? But believe me, I was
tickled just the same. Of course, it was up to me to go
get his bags. He could notbe expected to carry them himself, So
I ran down through the tunnel underthe tracks up to cousin. Giles took

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his bags heavy brutes, one ineach hand, and started back again.
And he followed me, roaring allthe way about this damn deserted place.
I knew I could have asked himwhat the blank he came for, but
it was never any satisfaction to comeback at Giles might as well ask Old
Faithful what he spouts for, orVesuvius why she smokes. He was a

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sort of short, thick set volcanohimself. He had a full face,
not exactly sallow, but brownish,with rather protruding yellow brown eyes, tremendously
animated, a ludicrously small nose,and nervous full lips, not a bit
concealed by his scant mustache, whichwas yellowish. Also, the line of
his jaw and chin was overlaid withflesh and muscle, and he had the

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neck of a bull. Though hewasn't what you'd call a beefy man,
he was, I know, tremendouslyintelligent, intolerant, impatient, and more
nervous than any lean man I've everknown. He was so full of energy
that I often wondered if he everslept at all. Funny what things come
back to me. I do rememberone night I heard him snoring when there
was a horror stalking through the house. To many of us, he seemed

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all fired important, and that's whathe was, I now believe, to
his country and to the world.As we approached the ford that morning and
he saw that there was a womanin it, he all but balked.
Probably he had had no sleep thenight before, for he had come from
somewhere down in Maine, and thethought of having to ride so early in
the morning with a commonplace woman gavehis nerves another twist of the screw.

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But I said, come on now, Giles, you've got to be civil
on such a fine morning. Besides, it's missus Greer. Greer, Greer,
he roared, making me hot allover. I don't know any Greers.
Why the devil should I be civilto missus Greer? Because I answered,
in a low but angry voice.She's a damn fine woman, whether
you know her or not, andshe isn't very well. Huh, So

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you're going to give me a sickone on this fine morning. Are you
damned if I won't walk? Wedidn't often damn ourselves and each other so
freely, and I was mortified atthe thought that Julia might have heard.
By the way, I have neverheard Eric use an oath of any kind,
But Julia was probably too much absorbedin her own thoughts to hear us.
She started when I spoke to her, Julia, I said, as

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cheerfully as I could, this ismy cousin, mister Giles, Pharaoh.
He has just told me that heis going to walk to the house.
We shan't have the pleasure of hiscompany. He braked off his hat in
a boorish sort of way, hislank hair never seemed to and stooped to
lift his dress suit case. Butat the sound of her voice, like
a sweet silver bell, always withsomething courteous in the inflection, he stood

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up quickly, gave her a keen, critical, almost arrogant look, and
then plumped himself down beside her inthe back seat. I don't know what
it was. Always made Giles seembigger than the place he was in,
Mopping his forehead and blowing a bit, he was like a steam engine in
the back seat of my Ford.While I was laboring to lift his heavy
bags to the front seat, andwhile I made sure that the doors were
all fast and did the many littlethings one does so proudly about a ford,

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I saw him dart swift glances atJulia's face. She rather turned away
from him, which I should judgewas not what he was used to having
women do. And we rode onin silence for a good while. All
of a sudden he asked her ifshe lived in one of the new concrete
stables they were putting up out here. She laughed and told him that she
lived in the one old house thathad been left standing. I knew it,

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he roared, You've got some sense. I've seen you before too.
I stumbled on that old place whenI was here in June, saw you
and your husband setting out flowers,foxgloves, nispah. How did you happen
to hit on that place? Lookat all these other insufferable boxes of houses.
Look at that one over there likea county jail. No shade anywhere
either. But I say, youdon't look so well as when I saw

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you before. What's the matter been? Ill? You don't think that old
houses are healthy, do you,Giles, I threw back at him over
my shoulder, to blazes with health, he cried, incontinently, always thinking
of your body as you Americans.If Giles was out of sorts, he
always sailed into the Americans, justas if he weren't one himself. There's

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a spirit in a soul to considerthese things you call homes. Look at
them, garages, jails, memorialbakes. Give me a house that has
a spirit in it, like missus. Julia's laugh was a little strained,
I thought, But the two ofthem fell into conversation. They both lived
in Europe and all that sort ofthing. So I, who had never
been farther across the water than toStaten Island, gave my thoughts to the

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smoothness of the ford and the goodSeptember sunshine and air. It was Giles
who did most of the talking.But now and then Julia asked a question,
and once or twice she laughed.At last we reached our home.
I got Giles's heavy luggage out onto the granolithic walk. Annette came flying
through the front door and down tothe car to greet him. My sensible

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wife was not insensible of the factthat her relationship to Giles gave her something
of a standing in the community.This morning, largely for the sake of
Julia, I imagine, she greetedhim with more enthusiasm than the tie of
second cousin usually prompts. Lord,how human that is. But Giles stuck
fast in the car. He hardlyacknowledged Annett's greeting at all, but tried

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to continue his conversation with Julia,just as if Annette had not been there
beside the car, looking right prettytoo in the bright sunlight. You see,
she has a good skin and prettyhair. Well. It was a
little humiliating for Annette. Still,that was no excuse for her taking it
out on Julia. Julia was reallyvery sweet to Annette that morning, and
thanked her specially for having been goodto Eric Friday night. And what did

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Annette do but say something about havingbrought a couple of nightmares to the house
with him. I only said ithalf jokingly, she explained to me later,
when I took her task for it. You heard me, Pierre,
I only said he had brought acouple of nightmares to Bobby and Felicia.
How could she have taken it.So she knows that Bobby adorees Eric.
She knows old Felicia would lie downon the ground for Eric to walk over

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her. She shouldn't be so sensitive. At the time, I felt that
her wrong had been done, andI tried to relieve the situation by reminding
Annette that Eric had been good enoughto take the nightmares away with him.
That didn't improve the situation, butit covered up the silence which had fallen
upon Julia's strange, inarticulate distress.Her eyes looked quite horror struck. I

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remember thinking, well, women beatthe Dutch, and being glad that Annette
couldn't see the mark on Julia's othercheek. When women get going, no
mere man can tell where they'll end. Giles was determined not to get out
of the car, but to goon with Julia and me to the old
house. I don't think he careda hang about seeing it, but he
wanted to stay with Julia. Howhe puffed and roared along the way in

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spite of him. However, therewere silent spaces. Julia said absolutely nothing
and laughed no more. The consciousnessthat Annette's brusqueness had pained her never left
my mind, but I had littleidea how nearly Julia was done for,
to my utter dismay, she faintedas she stepped out of the car.
Luckily, Giles, who could beas courteous as a bear, had got

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round to the door on her sideto help her out, and he caught
her in his powerful arms as shesank forward. My he was strong.
I think he could have carried anet, and he carried Julia into the
house as if she were a feather. I ran ahead to open the door,
fortunately on the latch, and knowingthe house, I piloted him down
the narrow hallway, hung with thatrosy stuff, into the sitting room,

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across the floor of which the sunlight, streaming between the rich curtains, lay
in bright bars. It touched thepillow on the sofa, just the place
for her head to wrin Her hatfell off as Giles laid her down,
and the sunbeams glistened in her darkchestnut hair. No need to loosen anything
round the slender white throat which rosespotless from the loose blouse she wore.

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Giles, the thick set, kneltdown beside her and chafed her hands for
him. At that moment, therewas but one person in the world besides
himself. He was wholly absorbed inwatching her face, but only for a
moment or two. He began shoutingfor some one, any one, and
ordering me not to stand like ablockhead, but to fetch water, find

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the servant, do something. Hehimself rushed to part the curtains wider,
and he nearly tore them down fromtheir rods doing so, and to open
the windows and let in more air. Before I left the room, I
heard Julius say in a low voice, keep that thing away from me.
Don't let it touch me. OhEric, how her whispers shook with horror.
By the time I returned to theroom with a kharaf of water and

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word that the servant would follow mewith cologne, Giles had dragged the count
with Julia on it, to thewest windows, giving upon the verandah and
overlooking the river. A cool breezecame up from the water and blew the
curls round her pale face, andGiles was standing looking at her, his
chin in his hand, his legsfar apart, his whole body tense and
motionless. Is she better? Iwhispered, eh, yes, he growled,

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what a handkerchief, and put iton her forehead. You you,
I did so, and Julia openedher eyes. Dazed. At first,
she asked for Eric, and whenI told her that he was gone,
she said cryptically, he must notcome back yet, not yet. I
was at a loss to understand this, until as she regained more of her
strength, she repeated several times,he must not see me like this,

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he must not know he would indeedhave been tortured. At last, the
old servant came in with the cologne, and Julia held out a hand to
me. She spoke a word ofthanks to Giles too, and said to
both of us, it's a feminineabsurdity. It means nothing except that,
well nothing. I trust you notto say a word to Eric about it.
She closed her eyes, the tearscame pushing out slowly from beneath her

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pallid lids. We knew it wastime for us to go. I'd left
the motor running. There's extravagance foryou with gasolene mounting towards the sky,
but I didn't care. Giles gotup in the front seat beside me,
and we started off without a word. At last, I said that for
your old houses, I don't believethat one's healthy. I'll bet it's haunted

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too. But Giles never opened hislips, except to put a cigarette between
them, which he did not tryto light. We must have gone a
mile before he shot out at meher husband. What about him, I
gasped, startled her husband. Heroared again. Look here, Giles,
I said, feeling pretty serious.He's a fine fellow, and she adores

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him. End of chapter four