For my neice
Susan Schindehette
with love
Contents
Chapter 1: Aunt Twice
Chapter 2: Shadows in Sugar Hill Hall
Chapter 3: Tilly
Chapter 4: A Disturbing Explanation
Chapter 5: Kipper
Chapter 6: A Sad Arrival
Chapter 7: Peppermint Peril
Chapter 8: Fish Syrup
Chapter 9: An Unexpected Invitation
Chapter 10: Mrs. Poovey and Mrs. Loops
Chapter 11: The Remembrance Room
Chapter 12: A Midnight Visit
Chapter 13: The Trapdoor
Chapter 14: The Jolly Sailor
Chapter 15: A Necklace of True Pearls
Chapter 16: The Scary Indiwidual
Chapter 17: A Stranger at Pa’s Place
Chapter 18: Peppermints in the Parlor
ONE
Aunt Twice
The train rocking through the night gave a lonely wail. Whoo! Whoo-whoo-whooey! If ghosts had voices, that must be the way they would sound, Emily thought. Though settled in the comfort of a warm train compartment, she felt a sudden chill, and thrust her hands deeply into the white fur muff she held on her lap. Even her reflection in the window glass had a pale and unreal look, as if it were the ghost of a young girl outside the train trying to break in.
The flickering gaslight in the compartment appeared in the glass as a lantern, its light dancing eerily over the young ghost’s head as she wandered the world to find a home. Shreds of fog, like pale fingers, brushed against the window. The train wailed again, and Emily could not help shuddering. What if she had to roam the world seeking a home, and never found one?
To reassure herself, Emily reached inside her green velveteen coat, pulled out the gold locket that hung from a chain around her neck, and opened the clasp. There, smiling back at her across from a small photograph of Mama and Papa, were Aunt and Uncle Twice, who were all the family she had left now.
It still puzzled Emily that she had not seen them in such a long time. She had asked questions about this, but had been told that Uncle Twice was occupied with business matters, or that Aunt Twice had gone off to New York for her new spring wardrobe. That was all that was ever said.
In any event, Mr. Dowling, Mama’s and Papa’s lawyer, had told Emily of Aunt Twice’s letter, so Emily had no doubt that she and Uncle Twice would be there to greet the train when it arrived in San Francisco. Then once again Emily would be taken to the grand white mansion on the hill. She could still see it in her mind, even though she had only been a very young child the last time she was there.
Sugar Hill Hall! So named because Uncle Twice had bought the mansion with a fortune made in the sugar trade, it was grander even than Emily’s own home had been. Now, somewhere in the distance, lights that could break through a fog as dark and thick as a witch’s cloak were twinkling for her, and that was what she intended to think about. She would think only about the lights, and the fire already crackling in the marble fireplace that graced the huge, elegant parlor. She would think only about—
Suddenly, the train lurched, and lurched again. She clutched the red horsehair seat to keep from being tumbled to the floor. Outside the windows, lights were appearing. They were only the lights of the train station, of course, but it meant the train had arrived at last The engine squealed in anguish as the brakes were applied, belched forth clouds of angry steam, and finally came to a groaning stop. Eagerly, Emily slid from her seat and pressed her nose to the cold window to see if she could catch a glimpse of beautiful Aunt Twice and tall, handsome Uncle Twice, waving and smiling at her to welcome her home!
A deeper fog had begun to creep stealthily up from the sea, spreading over San Francisco to dim the lights of its buildings and turn them into monstrous shadows. The fog wrapped itself silently around Emily as she huddled with her travelling bag by the waiting room door of the train station.
It was nearly an hour later, and no one had yet come to greet her. Not Aunt Twice. Not Uncle Twice. Not anyone. Smudges of dirt from her long train ride already stained her white stockings and white, high-button shoes, but by now even the bright red ribbons knotted around her long golden braids had begun to droop. She shivered again and pulled her white fur tam-o’-shanter down about her ears, digging her chin deep into the collar of her velveteen coat. She had been trying to hold back the tears, but now they came perilously close to pouring down her cheeks.
Where were Aunt and Uncle Twice? Why had no one come to meet her? The streams of people passing by, deeply intent on their own cares and worries, looked through her as if she had indeed become a ghost. She stared at each face, hoping to find the one that would welcome her with a smile. But they all rushed past her, as if sucked up and swallowed by the fog. Would the fog eat her up too, she wondered, so that ever after she would be nothing but a ghostly face peering in train windows? The only reply she had to her question were two pinpricks of gaslight blinking murkily at her from across the street like rat’s eyes. She turned from them with a shudder.
Then all at once she heard her name being called. “Emily? Emily Luccock?” It sounded dim and hollow as if mixed with a bowlful of the fog.
She looked around eagerly for a familiar face, but all she saw was a strange woman approaching through the gloom. A shabby brown coat flapped wearily around her thin ankles. Her hair, of no particular color, straggled in drab, lifeless wisps from under a shapeless felt hat. Emily drew back, startled by the sight of the faded eyes set deep in the woman’s face, the deathly pale lips, and the skin
