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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"


"Good heavens! What's the matter?" I asked, fearfully. It had been a
terrible task to break in those two handmaids, to train them _not_
to take part in the conversation at table, _not_ to take off cap,
and hair, not to do the thousand and one undisciplined and
disorderly things they did do.
"Ghostes! Sperets! Ha'nts!" chattered the colored women. "Ol' Mis'
Scarlett's walkin' in de ca'iage house!"
"Nonsense!" At the same time I felt myself turning pale, and
goose-flesh coming out on my spine.
"No, ma'am, Miss Sophy, 't ain't nonsense. It's ha'nts!" protested
Fernolia. She was the brighter of the two, but given to embroidering
her facts.
"Yessum, I done saw 'er," corroborated Queenasheeba. (That's how one
pronounced her name.)
The two occupied a very pleasant room above the carriage house, a
room that had overcome their unwillingness to stay overnight at
Hynds House. Queenasheeba was just dozing, when she was awakened by
Fernolia, who had been sitting by the window. Both of them, peering
through the scrim curtains, saw a tall white figure disappear into
the spring-house. A few minutes later, to their horror, they heard
Something moving downstairs in the carriage house--Something like
the clank of a chain--footsteps--and then silence.


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