“Oh!” Emily gasped.
“My dear child!” exclaimed Mrs. Plumly. It was the first time Emily had ever heard her voice, and it was sweet and musical, matching Mrs. Plumly perfectly. “I’m so sorry. Did I frighten you?”
“N-no,” stammered Emily. “I—I was only startled.”
“But you do look so pale, my dear. Did something else alarm you?” Mrs. Plumly looked alarmed herself. Her round face was puckered up into a whole map of pink wrinkles.
Emily nodded. “A—a sea captain, coming down the stairs. He—he was ugly and horrible-looking.”
“Sea captain? Ugly?” Mrs. Plumly looked puzzled. Then suddenly her eyebrows raised. “Ah! I think I know the person you mean. Now, what could he be doing prowling about Sugar Hill Hall? We can’t have this. I must speak to Mrs. Meeching about it. But not yet, child. I—I’ve been wanting so much to speak with you. Wait!” Mrs. Plumly held up a warning finger, then tiptoed to the bannister and looked into the mirror that reflected the parlor below.
Quickly, she tiptoed back and beckoned Emily into her room. “Come! It’s safe now. Come into my room, dear child.”
Emily was so surprised and overwhelmed by this unexpected invitation that she could hardly put one foot before the other. As soon as she entered the cozy room, Mrs. Plumly swiftly closed the door behind her.
“Oh, my dear child, I have wanted so much to speak with you. I have been so lonely for the sound of a young voice. As you can see, all I have now is my pictures and my memories.” She looked sadly toward all the photographs on the walls. “But please, please do sit down for just a moment.”
Still unable to believe that she was actually in this delightful room with Mrs. Plumly, Emily set down her bucket and seated herself on a small walnut rocker beside the fireplace. A teakettle sang softly over the glowing coals, and before it a silver dish of tiny cakes lay temptingly on a low table.
Mrs. Plumly settled down soft as a Christmas pudding into a pale green velvet armchair across the table. “Now, please do help yourself to some cakes,” she said in her melodious voice, smiling at Emily.
Emily could easily have taken a handful of the luscious little cakes. She felt so empty. The fish syrup had gone down smoothly, just as Kipper predicted it would, but she had not been taking it long enough yet for it to have had much effect when she faced the morning menu of tasteless gruel. Good manners, however, stood in the way of present hunger.
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Plumly,” she said, and took one small cherry cream tart.
“Oh my sweet child,” Mrs. Plumly said quickly, “please have another. You must be so hungry. And please, too, won’t you call me Aunty Plum when we are alone together? It would mean such a great deal to me.”
“Y-y-yes, Aunty—Aunty Plum,” said Emily shyly.
“That’s so much better!” Mrs. Plumly smiled again. Then her smile faded suddenly. She jumped up from her chair and ran to the door, her yellow flowered skirt whispering anxiously across the floor. She stood for a few moments with her ear pressed against the door before returning to collapse into her seat. Her face was stiff with fear.
“It’s all right, child,” she said, breathing heavily. “There’s no one there. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
“Oh Aunty Plum, are you—are you—” Emily could not go on.
“Speak, child,” said Mrs. Plumly urgently. “What is it you wish to say?”
“Aunty Plum, are you—are you a prisoner of Sugar Hill Hall, too, like-like Aunt Twice?”
Mrs. Plumly nodded stiffly. “Yes, dear, I too am a prisoner.” Her eyes swam in tears. “Only I, thanks be to someone’s kindness, am more fortunate than the other sad inmates of this mansion.”
Thanks be to someone’s kindness! Emily drew in a sharp breath. “Aunty Plum, are you the one whose very life depends on—on Aunt Twice?” She had blurted it out before she could stop herself.
Mrs. Plumly looked as if she had turned to stone. “Did—did your Aunt Twice mention any name?”
“N-n-no,” stammered Emily, thoroughly frightened. “She would not tell me.”
Mrs. Plumly’s soft grey eyes now burned with a terrible fear. “Please, please, child, ask no more questions of your aunt, or of me.” She looked over her shoulder with a deep shudder. “The walls here have eyes and ears I”
The eyes and ears of Sugar Hill Hall—again! Whose? thought Emily, trembling.
“Now I’m afraid you must leave, my dear Emily,” Mrs. Plumly said, finally collecting herself. “I’ve kept you here too long already. But before you go, please do promise two things. One is that you will be very, very careful. And the other is that you will return again some time to see me.”
“I promise both,” Emily said earnestly, and then they parted.
But as she carried her bucket up the stairs, more questions plummeted through her mind. There was one question, however, she no longer needed to ask anyone. For Emily now knew as surely as she knew how night followed day that Mrs. Plumly was the one Aunt Twice was protecting! But that answer only served to open up a new question—why?
Kipper marched into the cellar laundry room carrying two paper sacks in his hands. He set them both down carefully on the stone floor and began to unwrap his green-and-white-striped muffler. “Well, did you do it?” His eyes were bluer than ever with suppressed excitement.
“I did!” Emily smiled up at him from over her washboard.
“Dingus, Emily! Did you have any trouble? I mean, you didn’t get seen nor anything?” As he talked, Kipper was already rolling up his sleeves, prepared to help with the wash. He dropped to his knees before a second tub Tilly had thoughtfully placed there
