 Chapter 15 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanusha The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb Chapter 15 The February Ladies Story Jenny did not know why she called her the February Lady. It may have been because it was the first day of February when she first thought about her. Jenny had always imagined the February Lady dressed in cloudy grey, and when she found her, so she was. The February Lady was fond of animals. Jenny knew this because Aunt Abby's little kitten was always to be found in the room where the February Lady lived. It's such a dear, she said, when Jenny came to fetch it one day to give it its dinner. But what a night it is. I expect it looks extra tiny to me because at home I have got two enormous cats, like small dogs they are. They will be glad to see me when I get back. What are their names? asked Jenny. Chubby and Smooch, said the Lady. What funny names! Jenny smiled. Why did you call them Chubby and Smooch? I don't know. The names just came. I knew directly he stepped out of the baskets that he was the Smooch. And Chubby there could be no mistake about. How did you find them? inquired Jenny. Well, the Lady began. But wait a minute. First you go and fetch the kitten's dinner. Haddock, said Jenny. It'll love that. The Lady nodded. Bring the haddock up here and while the kitten's having it I'll tell you about Chubby and Smooch. Jenny was soon back with the plate of fish and while the kitten purred and ate both at the same time the February Lady smoothed out her cloudy grey frock and sat down on the hearth rug beside Jenny and the kitten and told her story. Chubby and Smooch. If you pass through a certain quiet cult in the middle of London you will find almost any day of the week the biggest and fattest cat you have ever seen sitting on the steps before one of the doorways. This is Chubby. And up on a window sill above him looking down into the cult you will probably see another huge cat with very long white whiskers. This is the Smooch. They are both Tabby cats though Smooch has four white paws a nose that is half white and half Tabby and a lot of black on his back and tail. Chubby is Tabby all over with a thin black ring round his neck like a necklace. But the really surprising things about Chubby are his cheeks. They stick out on either side of his face and make it look so fat. Just look at that cat's face people say as they pass or what a face. And Chubby meows and makes a funny little sound like trrr at them because he likes attention and if they stop and stroke him he rubs his head against them and meows again. The Smooch looks on at all this with interest. He is not very fond of coming down into the cult himself but prefers to look down on the passers-by from his window sill. He is very fond of Chubby and sometimes when Chubby is out Smooch will walk in and out of the rooms of the flat where he lives crying and looking for his friend. Chubby is not so particular about Smooch. He likes him very much but Chubby has a great many friends and enemies out in the cult to take up his interest while Smooch has only Chubby. He doesn't like a lot of friends. We found Chubby when he was a kitten long before the Smooch came such a funny little broad-shaped plump-faced kitten he was. At that time we lived in a house by the sea and one morning we saw him sitting on top of the garden wall. He sat there for a long time, such an odd little bunch and meowed whenever we went out and spoke to him. Presently we took him a sorter of milk. Chubby liked this and began to purl loudly and when he had drunk it up sat down and waited for some more. So we gave him some more and after that he still sat on the wall and waited. Whoever can he belong to? we said and made inquiries all around the neighborhood. But nobody seemed to own him this funny little fat kitten. Perhaps he will go home if we take no notice of him for a while we said. So we took no notice but he didn't go home and didn't move off the wall until dinner time when we found him on the step outside the back door. He crept in and sat by the kitchen fire and we gave him some dinner. He slept by the kitchen fire that night and the next day we could see that he had quite made up his mind to adopt us. So we were adopted and we called him Chubby which is his real and only name although he is always having fresh nicknames invented for him names that last for a day and are then forgotten. Out of this crowd of names there is one that is not entirely forgotten. It comes back at long intervals when Chubby is looking like it. This name is Hubel Bubels. I can't explain to you what a Hubel Bubels looks like but if you were to see Chubby you would understand at once. There are times when he is exactly like one. He was a mischievous little kitten and one of his favourite tricks was to hang on to the end of the broom when the floor was being swept and he would hang on so tightly thrashing the brush with his hind legs that it became impossible to sweep the floor unless we used Chubby himself as the brush. And then we came to live in London in a flat. We wondered at first how Chubby would like it after having a garden of his own to play in. He could go out as much as he liked we thought and there were grass and trees close by the flat. Chubby was a most obliging little soul. He quickly settled down amid his new surroundings and soon knew every nook and corner of the neighbourhood of his new home. And whenever he wanted to come in he would run up the short flight of stairs to his front door and push the door with his paw so that it rattled. And as soon as the rattle was heard the door was opened at once. By this time Chubby had grown from a little fat kitten into a big fat cat. He was always busy filling up his days with eating, sleeping, playing and fighting. He loved a good fight I am sorry to say and there was one particular friend of his with whom he was always quarrelling. And after these quarrels Chubby would come in with a scratch across his nose or a little piece bitten out of his ear but always very cheerful and purry with an air of I may be a bit knocked about but you should see what I gave him. He was always about the place somewhere sitting on the window sill or down on the step talking to all the passers by or continuing his quarrel with his friend in the court. One evening he asked to go out of the front door and I let him out as usual. He ran with his fat little legs down the stairs and out into the court. I remember I looked down and saw the tip of his tail disappear around a bend in the staircase. I little dreamed at the time how long it would be before I saw the tip of his tail or indeed any little bit of Chubby again. Chubby did not come in for his supper that night nor was he in for breakfast the following morning and the whole of the following day passed and still no Chubby. This was unusual but it was not until the next day came and went and the next and the next and the next and still no sign of Chubby that we began to be really alarmed. A week went by. I made inquiries all over the place. Everybody seemed to know Chubby but nobody had seen him lately. Two weeks passed and by this time I had searched every lightly place in the neighbourhood and had gone in the quiet of the evenings and listened and called outside any place where he might possibly have got shut up but never a sight nor sound of Chubby. Three weeks went by. We had advertised his loss in the papers and all the dustmen and the sweepers the lamp lighters and the postmen were on the lookout for him now. Ever since we had lived in London Chubby had worn a thin leather collar around his neck on which I had written his address in ink. How I wished that I had had a properly engraved plate on the collar then whoever found him would be sure to read where he came from. The ink would probably have got smudged out by now I thought. Four weeks passed. Five weeks passed. We had done everything we could think of to find what had become of our Chubby but he was still missing and we were beginning to give up hope of seeing him again. We were afraid that he had either got run over or else someone had deliberately stolen him. I wished again and again that I had had his name and address engraved on his collar. If only I could know the end of him. Know that he was not in pain, not suffering anywhere. I could not bear to see the steps where Chubby used to sit and hold his receptions. Nor could I bear to look at the grating of the cellar through which he used to squeeze himself turning his face sideways and getting first one cheek through and then the other because his face was too fat to go in front ways. It seemed dreadful to think that I might never see him again in these old haunts of his. Even his quarrelsome friend seemed to be missing him and went about with a depressed air. He had not had a good quarrel for five weeks. One morning there came a knock at the front door. It was a girl who said she had come from an ABC tea shop in the Strand. We saw an advertisement. You have lost a big cat, haven't you? She said. Have you found it yet? No. Well, a big cat. A very big cat ran into our shop the other day right up onto the top floor he went and he has stayed there ever since. My heart began to beat rapidly. How long ago, when he first ran in? I asked eagerly. About three weeks said the girl. We've only just seen your advertisement. It's a very big cat. I'll come at once, I said. And within a few minutes I had reached the ABC shop. Right up on the top floor said the manageress, smiling. He won't come down. Seems very frightened. We don't know where he came from. We have been feeding him, of course, but we can't keep him. I do hope he's yours. I flew up the stairs to the top floor. In a small back room was a pile of boxes. He's got behind there, said the girl, who had come up with me. Tom! Tom! She said, but as he did not appear. You call him, she suggested. Chubby! Chubby! I called, and my voice sounded strange to me. It was quite hoarse with excitement. But the cat would not come out. I'll see if I can get him, said the girl. And she began to scramble behind the boxes. Here he is. Come along, old fellow. There's nothing to be afraid of. And she lifted up a great big tabby cat with white paws and nose that was half white and a black back. It was not chubby. My heart sank with disappointment. It was not chubby, but it was the smooch. Of course, I didn't recognise the smooch immediately. I was so full of disappointment. All I saw was a monster cat, homeless, frightened. A cat who was not chubby. I shook my head. It's not my cat, I said. Oh, I'm sorry, said the girl. We shall have to ask the cat's home to send someone to fetch this one away then. He's a beautiful cat. It seems a shame. I said, stroking the smooch's smooth head. The smooch rubbed his head timidly against my hand, looking up into my face with big, appealing eyes. Yes, it does seem a shame. The girl agreed. He's such an unusual size. I've never seen such a big cat. I wish I could take him home myself, but I couldn't. And we can't keep him here, the manageress says. Wouldn't you like him yourself? But I did not want another cat in place of chubby. What could I do for the smooch? I wondered. Could I find a good home for him? He was really such a magnificent cat. It would be a shame to destroy him. I might be able to find a good home for him. I said, gently stroking her cat's head. The smooch was still looking up with his pleading eyes. I will find a good home for him, I said. And so it came about that the smooch came home with me inside the big basket that I had taken with me to hold chubby. The smooch seemed to dislike baskets, and directly he was inside and the lid closed. He began a melancholy, which he kept up without stopping all along the strand and to my flat. People turned their heads as we passed them, hearing the smooch's voice. I was very glad when we reached home, and I could let him out. He stopped crying immediately the lid of the basket was raised. I gave him some milk, but he didn't want that. He rubbed his head against my hand and began to purl. Then he made a thorough inspection of the flat, walking in a dignified, though slightly nervous manner from room to room, hastening back every time I spoke to him to rub his head against me again, and make funny little purie noises. Having satisfied himself about the flat, he came and jumped on my knee and made a great fuss of me, purring and rubbing and digging his claws in and out of my dress. He was saying thank you as plainly as he knew how. We soon became aware that he had very good manners. So well behaved was he that it was obvious somebody had taken the trouble to teach him all kinds of nice little ways. He had evidently been somebody's pet, poor somebody who had lost him perhaps as I had lost Chubby. So we kept the smooch a few days, and I made inquiries and found a good home for him. But we did not send him at once. We kept him a few more days. He was so lovable and so grateful and had such nice ways with him. I don't want him instead of Chubby, I said, but if only Chubby would come back I would keep both. The smooch had been with us about a fortnight, and Chubby had been missing just seven weeks when my maid came in early one morning and told me that she believed there was a cat down in the coal cellar. Chubby's old coal cellar where he used to squeeze his face through the bars. She could hear it crying. It sounds like, like Chubby, she said. Oh it can't be, I said, not daring to let myself hope. But supposing it is, supposing it is, raced excitedly through my head. He might have come back in the night and got into his old cellar to sleep. But why was he crying there? Why didn't he come up? No it couldn't be Chubby. It must be a strange cat. I was just getting up when the maid hastened to me with the news, and while I hastily flung on some clothes she went down to the cellar with a candle and keys. In a second I heard her come rushing up again and I dashed out into the passage just in time to see a cat disappear quickly into the dining room. He's come up, he's come up and run in there. She gasped almost setting her apron on fire with the lighted candle in her excitement. I darted into the dining room. There in the middle of the floor stood a big dusty tabby cat with great fat cheeks. It was Chubby. Chubby! I cried. I could hardly believe my eyes. There he was as fat as ever. Where had he been for seven whole weeks? said Chubby in his old familiar way. Oh Chubby, Chubby! I said as I picked him up in my arms. He rubbed his old head against me and purred and said over and over. And then he caught sight of the smooch who was watching him large-eyed from the corner of the couch. said Chubby again quite willing to be friends. The smooch growled I'm sorry to say. He didn't know that this was Chubby's home but thought he was some dusty stranger who had no right in the place. But before the day was out Chubby must have explained matters to him. He was throwing in his friendly talkative way to everything and everybody all that day for the two of them struck up a friendship that has lasted ever since. The first thing I did after Chubby's return was to buy him a new collar with his name and address engraved on it. His old collar was still around his neck when he returned but the ink marks on it had worn away. It was three years ago that Chubby disappeared and he has never gone away again. We have never found out where he was during those seven weeks. Someone must have taken him in we think meaning to keep him but Chubby got out and came home. Whoever had him treated him well came back as fat as when he went away. After his return he quickly took up all his old ways and habits including his naughty trick of sharpening his claws on the bookcase when he wanted the door open and nobody was taking any notice of him. He knew well that the sound would gain him attention at once and would look around over his shoulder while sharpening his claws to see how quickly I was coming. Chubby and Smooch gave a Christmas party this year. There was only one guest at the party it is true and a very small guest at that but what the party lacked in quantity it made up for in quality. The guest was a small tabby kitten that lived nearby and a nicer mannered little kitten it would be difficult to find to begin with as a little gift to his hosts he bought a tin of sardines with him a whole tin not middle cuts at Sixpence Hape near tin but whole sardines and a whole tin which was very handsome of him considering that Chubby and Smooch wouldn't have known the difference his mistress who brought the little kitten introduced him to his hosts by the curious name of Itty Man Smooch seemed rather impressed by this but Chubby's attention was entirely absorbed for the moment by the sight of the sardine tin he followed it with a loving gaze and as soon as it was opened he and Smooch set to on their share they never quarreled over their food but I am very sorry to have to tell you they spat at Itty Man Itty Man arched his little back and his tail went thick and he stood watching them while they went steadily on with their share of the party it was very low mannered of his hosts and I am afraid there is no excuse except that they had never seen such a very small kitten before and did not know the proper way to treat him however Itty Man behaved like a perfect little gentleman and went quietly on with his bit of the party in a corner by himself after the choice meal was over Chubby took charge of the tin he didn't say after you to the Smooch because he knew there would be no after and he licked it and licked it round and round the room until it was so clean and shiny that Itty Man could see his own reflection in it then Chubby washed his own face and Smoochie washed his own face and then they both jumped up on the couch and washed each other's faces and then they went to sleep leaving their tiny guest disconsolate to entertain himself as best he could which he did by going to sleep himself on the rug before the fire I am afraid Chubby and Smooch are not very good at hosts but they have never given a party before so did not know what was expected of them yet Chubby knew what was expected of him when holding his receptions at the top of the steps in the cult for one morning he was sitting on top of the steps as usual it was a Sunday morning and King George and Queen Mary passed the doorway on their way from a church nearby Chubby immediately set up his meow of welcome and then evidently feeling that it was a special occasion and one on which something more was expected of him he got up and descending the steps leisurely followed the royal party through the court a journalist friend of Chubby happened to see the incident and something in Chubby's behaviour so took his fancy that he wrote a short notice about it for his paper I was very surprised when reading my paper the following day to come across a paragraph headed Cat follows the Queen which began Chubby the largest and most famous cat in the neighbourhood of and told the story the next morning I heard the dustman call out to Chubby as he passed him sitting in his usual place Hello Chubby, so you're the cat that was stroked by the Queen are you? and so the story grew until it was quite evident that before the incident was forgotten it would be said that Chubby had paid a visit to Buckingham Palace and the Queen had invited him to have a drink of milk out of her saucer for a time the postman used to greet him with Hello is the royal cat but he has gone back to his original nickname for him now and says Hello you older rascal just as he used to do the smooch listens to all this in wide-eyed wonder and is glad when Chubby has done holding a reception on the steps and comes in to sleep on the couch for then the smooch jumps up and coals round beside him and uses Chubby as a pillow End of chapter 15 Chapter 16 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanusha The House with the Twisting Passage by Marian St John Webb Chapter 16 Jenny meets the littlest one In the room next to Peter Bolin Jenny heard somebody singing The door was partly open and as she passed Peter Bolin himself looked up from the window seat where he was sitting and saw her Ah little lady he called come in and meet a friend of mine Jenny needed no second invitation I just popped him from my room to see how he was getting on explained Peter Bolin inclining his head toward a very small curly-headed boy on his knee He's staying here for a week he went on and when Miss Primrose isn't looking after him I am Now then old man he said to the boy this is Jenny Stand up and shake hands with her The little boy slid off Peter Bolin's knee and held at his hand to Jenny He was very shy Shier even than Jenny After they had shaken hands solemnly Peter Bolin made room for Jenny on the window seat Tell Jenny about that game you were playing the other day urged Peter Bolin The little boy hid his face shyly against Peter Bolin's sleeve So Peter Bolin went on talking to Jenny until by and by the little boy raised his head and looking up at Jenny smiled Then when he found nobody was taking any notice he sat up and began to talk and that was how Jenny presently learnt all about the old witch and the woolly mat and the unfortunate affair with the postman the woolly mat I'm tending I'm a woolly mat I'm lying on the floor till someone comes and treads on me outside the parlour door I'm tending that an ugly witch has put a spell on me because really I'm a little boy I mean I used to be I hope it's mother finds me first and comes along this way her shoes tread very soft and light I wonder what she'll say I hope she'll take and lay me down beside a chair at tea because people might drop bits of cake on woolly mats like me I hope she'll take but shh who's this that's coming up the stair a clobby clop it sounds like Jane but I don't really care although I wished it wasn't Jane her shoes tread awful hard and oh she sometimes picks up mats and beats them in the yard I think I'll tend the ugly witch has changed me back again because she wouldn't like for me to stay and get trod on by Jane the postman calls me tappany the postman calls me tappany or a loa pass fo or something different every time he comes up to our door I wish she wouldn't do it she knows the name's not right but when I tell him this he only shuts one eye up tight and next time when he comes he says I've got a parcel here addressed to master tappany now where is it gone dear dear he feels about inside his bag whatever shall I do I must have lost it still of course it can't have been for you you say your name's not tappany and he laughs and goes away and I wish she hadn't done it now I don't know what to say if you should find the parcel because I feel I ought to see in case, although it's not my name the parcel's meant for me End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanussia The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Chapter 17 Old Mrs Bunch's Tale Old Mrs Bunch looked kindly at Jenny out of her small, beady eyes I suppose you're wondering who cracked that mirror hanging over there on the wall well, I bought it the other day and there's a story about it and a queer story too, I can tell you don't tell me it's unlucky to buy a cracked mirror because I shan't believe you unlucky fiddle sticks Jenny had not been going to say anything of the kind I love stories, would you tell it me? she begged Mrs Bunch's eyes twinkled I've got it written down somewhere just as the mirror told it me told it you echoed Jenny in a surprised voice that's what I said wasn't it? Mrs Bunch began fumbling about her skirt as she went on it's written on a bit of paper in one of my pockets I always have three pockets in every skirt one to put things into one to take things out of and one for thriftly pieces ah, here it is now turn on that light little girl and come over here on the sofa by me and I'll read the story out to you so saying she unfolded a little packet of paper in her hands put on her spectacles and began to read the cracked mirror of course if I'd got what I deserved mused the cracked gold-framed mirror that was leaning against a bed post in the dusty lumber room I should be down in the drawing room surrounded by a wreath of laurels and an admiring household instead of packed away in this wretched hole it's a horribly unjust world here am I vanished because I am worthy of a VC and there's Florence who's never done anything in her life that hold umbrellas and hats down in the hall living a life of gaiety in the centre of everything and everybody she's all very well as Hall stands go but she never had half the attention from visitors that I used to have and she's disgracefully ignorant I remember she used to think that VC stood for vacuum cleaner I laughed so much at her stupidity that I made my nail loose but in spite of her ignorance she was very sympathetic was Florence how she would creak her joints if she could see me now army what pleasant little gossips we used to have together when I hung in the hall and how she would laugh at my jokes laugh till the hats fell off her fingers and I remember I would catch the rays from the electric light and throw them on her of an evening just for fun poor thing how they used to tickle her she always was ticklish was Florence well I was going to tell you about the deed that I ought to have got a VC for wasn't I it was one of the noblest deeds you can imagine one very foggy evening the family were all having dinner and Florence and I were chatting quietly together when the dining room door opened and Master Tom came out with a letter in his hand and went out of the front door to the post after he'd come back and gone into the dining room again I remember I said to Florence he hasn't shut the front door properly and she couldn't contradict me because the fog was beginning to creep in then suddenly we saw the door slowly open wider and wider and then a face came round the side and glanced hurriedly up and down the empty hall and staircase and it was a face unshaven, wild-eyed with bent nose and a fringe of hair straggling across the forehead another minute and the man was standing on the hall mat his clothes were in keeping with his face there were simply a mass of rags I looked across at Florence and said this is outrageous, what does the brute want? but Florence only said poor fellow, isn't he thin? and that remark will just show you what an absolutely idiotic sentimental creature Florence was I was too disgusted to reply then everything happened with a rush the man grabbed some silver ornaments off a shelf in the hall took a couple of silver-handled umbrellas away from Florence and a cloth cap off one of her fingers and crossed to unhook a small silver photo frame hanging on the wall beneath me I realised that the matter was urgent and my mind worked rapidly as I sought for some plan to thwart the thief I looked across at Florence, but of course she had no ideas poor thing, she was completely bewildered and I expected her to go off into hysterics every minute then it happened then I did the noble deed the man raised his head with a jerk and I caught him a blow with the bottom of my frame such a blow that I raised myself off the nail that I'd loosened with the laughing and fell with a crash to the floor of course there was a scuttle in the dining room at once the door was flung open and they all rushed out meanwhile the man with a terrified exclamation dropped all the things and dashed out of the front door into the fog some of them ran after him, but they never got him worst luck and when they picked me up they found a huge crack right across my face and one of them said well there's one consolation if the burglar hadn't caught his head on this thing he'd have got away with our silver they actually gave the credit of giving the alarm to the burglar there's ingratitude for you and then they talk about consolation and stick me away in a fusty lumber room when I saved all their whole silver and probably their lives you never know when I think of what a favourites I used to be in the old days I can't imagine how everyone is managing to get on without me everyone used to look at me when I hung in the hall and most of them smiled and patted their hair and ties as they passed me I remember having an argument about this once with the hall mat he was a spiteful creature he'd had his feelings trodden on so much I suppose and he said it was themselves, not me they were looking at and admiring the idea I don't know when I laughed so much I couldn't help being beautiful instead of brown and bristly like a hall mat and I couldn't help people admiring me could I there was one pretty little fair girl with blue eyes who used to pass through the hall very frequently yes I know they were blue I had an argument with Florence about the matter I recollect and Florence got quite nasty because I wouldn't say her eyes were grey anyway this little girl was very fond of me she always looked at me and smiled as she went past sometimes she would stand in front of me for a long time looking at me and one day she threw me a kiss even the hall mat liked this little girl but his was a selfish reason she used to wear rubber heels on her shoes and they didn't hurt him so much when she wiped her feet on him one evening all the family were going out to a party and I just finished throwing electric light rays at Florence and she was giggling away when one by one the family came down the stairs with cloaks and shawls on and stood in the hall waiting I am by the mother called but do hurry up Marjorie what a time you've been getting ready then the little blue eyed girl appeared at the top of the stairs and she was white and her voice trembled as she said oh mother look what I've done and she held out a white silk dress with a big hole burnt in the middle of it everybody started talking at once and when they'd quieted down a bit Marjorie told them how she'd been tidying herself at the looking glass over the mantelpiece in her bedroom and she'd stood on the fender and her dress had got burnt by the fire her mother told her it was only what she had known would happen one day because she was always in front of that looking glass then everybody started talking together again in the end they all went off to their party and Marjorie was left behind with her spoilt dress she hadn't got another one ready to go in she stood on the hall mat and waved them a careless goodbye but when the door was shut she turned around and came up to me I hate you, I hate you, I hate you she cried looking straight at me and the tears were streaming down her face you vain stupid thing and she turned and fled up the stairs I was never so amazed in my life why should she hate me then it dawned on me that what the hall mat had suggested might be true just this once she was looking at herself, not me, on this occasion but that is the only time the hall mat has ever been right about anything the other times she was looking at me I'm sure she was but when are they coming to fetch me out of this disgusting lumber room they might at least have lent me against a wall instead of the top of an iron bedstead with three casters off Old Mrs. Bunch folded up the paper in the end they sold the poor thing she said and I bought it on account of its handsome frame only I don't want it to know that one of these days when I've saved up enough thriftly pieces I shall have a new glass put in and hang it up in my hall End of Chapter 17 Chapter 18 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanusha The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Chapter 18 Nanny Remembers An old lady lived in the room at the very end of the corridor an old lady with white hair and a face all over her wrinkles She seemed terribly older Jenny but she had a smile that was young and so Jenny was not afraid of her Jenny had pretended that there was an old lady in this room an old lady who had been a governess but the old lady she actually found living in this room had not been a governess She had been a nurse so Jenny heard Aunt Abby say It was not until she went in one day with a small parcel that had just come by post for the old lady that Jenny discovered whose nurse she had been She hasn't forgotten me said the old lady in a quavering voice as she took the parcel with shaky fingers she never forgets bless her heart though it's many a year since I did anything for her as she opened the parcel she went on talking nodding and blinking and smiling at Jenny Wait a bit, wait a bit little girl don't go away for a minute I remember her so well when she was your age Nanny she said to me last time I saw her three weeks no, four weeks ago yesterday I saw her Nanny she says you must go home we always called this place home you must go home she says and have a good rest it's what you want there's a room already so I came down here my dear she'd opened the parcel by this time there now she went on taking out a pair of black woollen mittens what do you think of that just what I wanted and all she never forgets the old lady blinked at Jenny it's my birthday she announced in her thin whispery voice she never forgets oh said Jenny I hope you will have many happy returns the old lady stretched out her arms and Jenny went shyly forward and kissed her wrinkled cheek when my Miss Claire was your age began the old lady Miss Claire exclaimed Jenny starting back yes my dear I was Miss Claire's nurse when she was a little girl like you and a sweet lovable little thing she was in spite of her willful ways I remember the girl in the picture I remember Miss Claire when she was nine years old with her golden curls brushed and shining a prettier sight it would have been impossible to find there was a picture made of her about that time all in a dainty white frock she was and with that new doll of hers held in her arms it used to hang in the drawing room beside the mantelpiece I wonder where it is now I know said Jenny up on the wall in the twisting passage well to be sure exclaimed nanny and is it indeed her parents gave her the doll on her ninth birthday what did she call it now ah I remember Lady Barbara she was to have had Lady Barbara given to her on the previous Christmas but she did something naughty and her father instead of letting her have it put it away in a box and it was kept till her birthday she was full of courage was Miss Claire and not afraid to own up if she had been in the wrong and she was not afraid of her father's punishments until after she had Lady Barbara I'll tell you why in a minute many a battle of wills I'd seen take place between her and her father before Lady Barbara came he was a very stubborn man when his temple was aroused and she took after him I've seen the two of them stand facing each other white faced and silent and neither of them would give in an inch it was not the proper way to bring up a child in my opinion she ought not to have been bullied and then allowed to argue with her father as she did if only her parents had understood her a little if only they had tried to win her affection but there it doesn't matter what I thought nanny nanny she would say running up to me in the nursery and throwing her arms round my neck I've broken father's telescope he told me not to touch it and I did don't mind nanny don't be sad and off she would go to her father to confess what she had done she always begged me not to mind she used to say how sad it made me when she was naughty Miss Claire is to go to bed at six o'clock tonight her father would come striding in to tell me she's been a very naughty girl but Miss Claire was a curious child although she would own up and accept punishment she was too proud ever to admit that it was a punishment I want to go to bed she would say about six o'clock I'm tired and off she would go to bed without any more ado Claire is not to come with me to the garden party her mother said on another occasion she was so disobedient this morning I shall leave her at home and so Miss Claire was left behind I'm very glad I'm not going I want to go a bit she said and began to hum a little tune as she tapped with her fingers on the window pane and watched her mother drive away but when it came to Christmas time and her father showed her the beautiful doll and then put it away I think she cared that time not that she would admit it oh no, she didn't want the doll at all that would give us to understand she had been extra naughty on that occasion indeed, though through her naughtiness a small cousin of hers had nearly been killed again and again she had been told not to open the garden gates and take this small cousin out along the main road but she did and the little cousin was knocked down by a cart bruised and very frightened but as good fortune would have it not injured seriously there was a terrible scene with Miss Claire's father that day Miss Claire's Christmas present was packed up and put away cousin was taken home and Miss Claire was left to amuse herself over Christmas as best she could she found her crying in bed on Christmas Eve but she said it was because her feet were cold not because her father had told her that Father Christmas was not coming to her that year on account of her naughtiness she hung up her stockings in spite of her father's words but on Christmas morning she found them empty about that time she invented a new game for herself I don't know what it was all about but she was constantly running up and down the long twisting passage the one outside my door here running up and down and talking and whispers to herself why? it's like the game I was playing out there said Jenny only I was playing with Miss Claire what? said Nanny playing with Miss Claire but she couldn't so Jenny had to explain all about it ah said Nanny nodding her head I see I shouldn't wonder if Miss Claire wasn't playing that game too when her birthday came and she got her doll at last the way she cared for it all day long she was nursing it and dressing and undressing it and talking to it she'd wanted it all the time that was plain to see she was a good enough little soul with me on the whole if only her father hadn't been quite such a strict man he was always finding fault with her neither he nor her mother seemed much interested in the child except when she was naughty she was their only child too the father's thoughts were taken up a good deal with his business affairs and the mother went out and entertained a lot so you might say Miss Claire had a lonely childhood of course she had me but that's different however her loneliness seemed over when her doll arrived she was happy and occupied all the day long with it and then one day her father found out that the only way really to punish Miss Claire was to threaten to take her doll away and shut it in a cupboard for a week I shall never forget the child's face the first time he did this to me it seemed a shame to punish her through the doll the one thing she had to care for however it doesn't matter what I used to think the first time her father used this new way of punishing her was one day when Miss Claire had got into the library where she was forbidden on account of her carelessness and had accidentally damaged a book on which her father set great store I remember hearing her father coming with his heavy tread up the stairs he flung the nursery door wide open Claire he cried and his voice was very angry in his hand he held the damaged book I was just coming to tell you father she said just coming to tell me repeated her father haven't you been told again and again not to go into the library and touch my books his eyes flashed around the room and rested on me I was sitting by the window sewing a tiny button on Lady Barbara's frock while her ladyship reclined elegantly on my knee he paused then nurse give me Miss Claire's doll he said immediately Miss Claire sprang to her feet father what are you going to do she cried and there was fear in her voice but don't do anything to Lady Barbara please please don't I'll never touch your books again indeed I won't at this her father's eyes gleamed strangely he recognised that through her love for her doll he had some power over her at last give me the doll he said again to me what could I do I handed it to him in silence he took it roughly and strode toward the door father oh what are you going to do implored Miss Claire following him I am going to shut this doll of yours up in the hall cupboard for a week on the top shelf and I shall keep the key of the door in my pocket he said we heard his heavy footsteps descending the stairs Miss Claire stood quite still for a second then she burst into tears it was the first time I'd ever seen her cry over one of her father's punishments the sight was so unusual that I got up at once and put my arms about her don't cry honey I said forgetting how naughty she had been but even if I'd remembered I dare say I should have done the same I had always a soft spot in my heart for my Miss Claire it's not fair it's not fair she sobbed it's not fair to look Lady Barbara in the cupboard she hasn't done anything it's me that ought to be locked in not her oh she'll be so frightened of the dark it made my heart ache to hear the way she cried she clung to me for a bit then she rushed off to find her father and beg him to lock her in the cupboard instead of Lady Barbara but her father was firm he would do nothing of the kind he said for a week Lady Barbara should remain in the cupboard in the dark and then providing she'd been good all the week Claire should have her back again in vain Claire pleaded with him the next day knowing that Miss Claire had lain awake half the night crying I went down and spoke to her father myself fearing the child would cry herself ill it was no use it is the only way to teach her said her father and her mother agreed on my way upstairs I met Miss Claire coming hurriedly down where are you going I asked her alarmed at the look on her face nanny she said I'm going to get a hammer and to smash the cupboard door open and get my poor Lady Barbara out it took me some time to talk her out of this but I did it I told her that I feared if she did anything of the kind the doll might be taken away from her altogether and at last she gave up the idea and sat beside me for a time on the window seat in the nursery but after a while she got up and went down into the passage and I heard her running up and down up and down and talking to herself after this Miss Claire went and sat on a little stall outside the hall cupboard for an hour or so each day reading or doing her lessons and every now and then she would whisper through the crack of the door to Lady Barbara and each evening at bedtime she would always go and whisper good night until Lady Barbara not to be frightened because nothing would hurt her it was a bad week for Miss Claire the joy in her face when she got Lady Barbara back at the end of it made the tears spring to my eyes but her father merely said now remember Claire whenever you are naughty in future that doll goes into the cupboard here for a week Miss Claire seemed to be good for a long time after this but one day she did something a little trifling thing before some visitors which just pleased her father and the doll was taken away again but there was no third time one afternoon she came flying upstairs into the nursery her face dead white nanny she gasped quick where is Lady Barbara she snatched the doll up in her arms and was out of the room again before I could say a word five minutes later she came back and sat quietly down by the fire her father came up immediately afterward and the expression on his face made me tremble for my Miss Claire Claire he cried you've been across those rose beds again the gardener saw you and you've broken that prize rose bush I didn't mean to I didn't mean to really truly I didn't said Miss Claire honestly I forgot just for a little minute I did I was in a hurry to get onto the wide path on the other side and my foot slipped in the soil and that's enough said her father I'm so sorry so sorry father really what's the good of being sorry you always are sorry when you've done the mischief her father shut his mouth in a tight line but I really didn't mean began Miss Claire imploringly where's that doll of yours demanded her father and let me tell you this is your last chance Claire next time you shall not have the doll back at all so I warn you I'm tired of your disobedience give me that doll at once Miss Claire made no movement nurse her father turned to me I looked round I don't know where it is sir I said Claire said her father again give me that doll Miss Claire still made no movement but there was the light of battle in her eyes she lifted her head and looked her father squarely in the face if you're angry with me father she said you must punish me not Lady Barbara she hasn't done anything I can't bear her to be locked up give me that doll quick was all her father replied Miss Claire sat perfectly still Claire shouted her father angrily no I won't give her to you cried Miss Claire in a passion she shan't be punished she shan't I've hidden her somewhere where you'll never find her you'll never find her so lock me in the cupboard instead her father was furious with her nurse he said find that doll for me I insist and he began looking about himself of course I had to get up and help but Miss Claire sat by the fire trembling with excitement after we had searched the nursery we went out into the passage and searched the other rooms on the same landing the end room was a sort of box room hardly ever used full of old furniture and boxes as I turned into this room I noticed marks and dust on the boxes near the floor my heart sank I was afraid I was on the track I came to the fireplace and looked about and then peeping down from the chimney was a corner of Lady Barbara's dress she was wrapped all up in an old black shawl but a corner of her dress was peeping out I stretched out my hand then let it drop to my side I turned my eyes away as if I'd seen nothing and I went on searching outside the door Miss Claire's father said to me well we won't waste any more time nurse but you find out from her where it is I must have it, it's the only way to teach her fortunately a visitor on business came for him at that moment and he was obliged to hurry away downstairs I don't know what would have happened next but that night Miss Claire's father was taken suddenly ill they said the visitor had brought bad business news which had upset him and helped to bring on an attack a kind of fit or something anyway all thoughts of Lady Barbara and Miss Claire's punishment were forgotten in the general upheaval that followed he was ill for many months and then was taken abroad for a long time so Miss Claire and her Lady Barbara were left in peace Miss Claire was left in my charge of course she was naughty at times but I could always manage her she had an affectionate little heart really if only her parents had discovered it at length Miss Claire had to go away to boarding school the day before she went she dressed Lady Barbara up in her best clothes and put her carefully away in a drawer in which she made a little chink with a pen knife so that Lady Barbara shouldn't be left entirely in the dark and told her that she would think of her every day till the holidays came and that she would never, never forget her when the holidays came Miss Claire made a rare fuss of Lady Barbara but when the next holidays came she did not get her out of the drawer until she had been home for two days and at last came one holiday when she forgot to take her out of the drawer at all and so the years went by changes were made in the house, many changes and Lady Barbara was packed away in the nursery cupboard with all the other toys and forgotten oh how could Miss Claire have forgotten her? said Jenny she had had her day said Nanny but I could never have forgotten Lady Barbara altogether said Jenny yes you could said the old nurse things that at one time you think you cannot live without you find you can live without and if it wasn't so it would be impossible to go on living at all I don't suppose you believe me but when you are older you will find I am right but though Miss Claire may have forgotten all about Lady Barbara she has never forgotten her old nurse bless her heart and these mittens she sent me for my birthday will be a rare comfort poor Lady Barbara I wonder what became of her I know said Jenny she is upstairs in the old nursery cupboard I have played with her and she went on to tell Nanny all about it I always tell her Miss Claire has not forgotten her and she hasn't my Miss Claire hasn't Nanny shook her head and smiled my Miss Claire has she said end of chapter 18 Chapter 19 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanusia The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Chapter 19 Phil the Fiddler's Story If you don't like fairy tales, shut the door and go away said Phil the Fiddler running his fingers through his long white hair and placing his flute on the mental piece Jenny still called him Phil the Fiddler because he was just as she had imagined him only he played a flute instead of a violin But I do like fairy tales please said Jenny shyly standing on one leg by the open door Then come in dearie and I'll tell you one said the old gentleman sinking down into a big armchair and patting one of the padded arms Jenny closed the door and came and sat on the arm of the chair Well it's not exactly a fairy tale the old gentleman went on because there are no fairies in it but there are witches and dwarfs and strange brown canvas bags and a little girl a bit older than you dearie and the story is called The Bag of Dreams The Bag of Dreams tap tap tap tap tap against the window pane a next grandmother moved uneasily in her chair by the fire and stuck the needle quicker and quicker in and out of the brown canvas she was sewing tomorrow I'll get that creeper cut for sure she muttered glancing sideways at her little granddaughter who was sitting reading in the chimney corner how the girl rattles it against the window Annette remembered her grandmother making these remarks times without number and yet when the mural came nothing was done to the creeper and then one day Annette discovered that the creeper did not grow near enough to the window to tap against it even on the stormiest night she made this discovery on the day before her 13th birthday she and her grandmother lived alone in a little cottage on the top of her windswept hill Annette was a lonely dreamy little thing who had to depend on herself or her books for entertainment as she was forbidden to go down to the village at the bottom of the hill and play with the children there her grandmother taught her to read and write and sew but she hated sewing and much preferred to read long hours she would spend on the side of the hill with a storybook for company and though she longed sometimes to go down and speak to the children she could see in the village far below she never disobeyed her grandmother because she was very much afraid of her always it seemed to Annette her grandmother was sitting by the fire in brown canvas and muttering to herself she told Annette once that she was making bags which she sold and so earned a little money to keep them both in food and fuel Annette was quite satisfied she asked few questions of her grandmother then the day before her 13th birthday Annette was sitting on the hillside reading as usual when the sound of voices floated clearly up to her on the still air two of the villagers gathering violets had wandered farther up than usual there let's turn back now I never go farther up than this because of the old witch on the top said one very well said the other my basket's nearly full anyhow by the way what has become of that little grandchild of the old witch I haven't seen her on the hill lately I suppose she's never allowed to come down and mix with other children in case she finds out what her grandmother is before she's meant to know folk do say that she is going to become a witch too someday what do you think their voices died away in the distance leaving Annette very frightened at what she had overheard though she could scarcely believe that it was true however she hastened home to find out but when she saw her grandmother sitting by the fire sewing she felt afraid to tell her what she had heard in case it made her angry so Annette determined to wait and watch and listen Annette wandered away in the garden to think things over she began to remember how curiously her grandmother watched her whenever the tapping sounded on the window pane and then for the first time she noticed that the creeper could not touch the window and marveled that she had never found this out before but of course she had never had the slightest suspicion until now she tried to recall anything else that was curious in her grandmother's behaviour but she could think of nothing except that one of the stairs creaked very loudly as she Annette went up to bed every night and that her grandmother always left the kitchen door ajar until she heard her tread on this stair and then called good night and shut the door after this Annette always became dead tired immediately and tumbling up the last few stairs and into bed she remembered nothing more till she awoke in the morning being in a suspicious mood Annette wondered if this stair was connected with her southern tiredness of the night though she had never thought of anything of the kind before anyway I won't tread on it tonight just to see if it makes any difference she made up her mind but I will take a thick stick with me and push the stair but grandmother shall hear it creak and then I will find out what she does when she thinks I am asleep so the stair creaked as usual when Annette went up to bed that night and her grandmother with her ear to the crack of the kitchen door chuckled and closed the door quite satisfied Annette crept up to her bedroom and sat for a while by the open window listening she did not feel the least bit sleepy and was glad that she had discovered the reason of her southern tiredness each night and at the same time she felt puzzled and vaguely afraid for it seemed without doubt that her grandmother must be a witch she could hear her moving about in the kitchen below and presently there came sounds of chink, chink, chink as if money were being counted a lot of money Annette did not know her grandmother had any money she'd always understood that she was very poor although she worked so hard at her sewing after a while Annette heard the back door unfalcened and her grandmother go out into the garden it was a moonlight night she could see her from the window hobbling down the garden path carrying under her arms several of the brown canvas bags suddenly from out of the shadows by the gate there appeared four little dwarf men you shouldn't lock so often on the window she'll begin to suspect Annette heard her grandmother say well we must have the bags and we have to remind you we're waiting you grow slower and slower in making them every day grumbled one of the dwarfs what does it matter if she does suspect said another you'll be telling her soon she's 13 tomorrow said the grandmother time she took over your work then said a third dwarf you're getting old you know but let's see what you've got for us tonight they then began to examine the bags and to bargain and haggle with the old woman as to the price to be paid and very soon they were all five very angry and quarrelsome shhh said the fourth dwarf presently supposing we wake her up supposing we fiddle sticks snapped Annette's grandmother wake her up the stair creaked as usual I tell you they resumed their bargaining until finally they came to some decision and the four little dwarfs departed each carrying one of the empty brown canvas bags Annette watched them pass through the gate and went their way down the hill to a group of trees by the roadside where they disappeared meanwhile her grandmother came indoors chuckling and shut herself in the kitchen poor little Annette what was she to do it was evidently true then that her grandmother was a witch what dreadful fate awaited herself on the morrow she wished she knew what those bags were used for the brown canvas bags that her grandmother was always sewing I must try to find out thought Annette she crept downstairs carefully missing the stair that creaked and let herself noiselessly out into the garden as she passed the kitchen door she could hear the chinking of money and her grandmother muttering to herself once outside Annette ran quickly down the path through the gate and made her way to the place where the dwarfs had disappeared as she approached she could hear voices so she hesitated in the shadow of the first tree a short distance away she saw the four dwarfs sitting in a circle on the ground talking earnestly the bags on the grass beside them two of the bags were still flat and empty but the other two appeared to be partly filled with some strange moving objects what could be inside them? Annette gazed, fascinated the dwarfs were evidently finishing a serious discussion well well what does it matter said one tomorrow little Annette will be told her fate and then poor child remarked another sympathetically why poor child asked the first speaker irritably she is so young and fresh and pretty came the answer it is sad to think of her sitting always by the fire sowing these dream bags and growing old and cross and ugly with no friends no companion but her grandmother and shunned by all good folk because she is a witch Annette shivered and pressed closer to the tree trunk very sad very sad mocked a third dwarf but after all it is her fate and he shrugged his shoulders as if it were no concern of his you must remember that being a witch has its attractions the fourth dwarf chimed in think of the delight of knowing the secret of how to make dream bags think of the gold pieces you can earn but which they all laughed my word but the olden does know how to drag the gold pieces out of us we should be big as soon the prushey charges for these new bags he pulled a long face then sprang to his feet but come along we must be off he seized one of the partly filled bags see he continued I've picked up a few already but there's lots more to do before dawn come along and he moved away another dwarf picked up the other partly filled bag but he was careless and as he flung it over his shoulder the cord that tied the opening slipped and the bag opened whoa there's one nearly out bother it's got away he exclaimed fastening the bag hastily a net peering saw something glide from the bag and float away something that looked like a wisp of grey smoke it twisted and twirled lazily rising higher and higher till it disappeared over the treetops never mind it will return at dawn so the dwarf consolingly to himself as he departed the third dwarf with one of the empty bags followed quickly on the hills of the other tomb there remained only the dwarf who had pitted a net and he was slowly gathering up his bag on the impulse of the moment a net stepped out of the shadow as he moved away and called to him the dwarf turned quickly and dropped his bag in astonishment oh please sir she cried I'm a net and I heard what you said and I don't want to be a witch sir could you help me? help me to escape you seemed so kind please please tell me what to do why little Annette we never guessed you were near what is it you wish me to do for you asked the kindly dwarf just to help me to escape so that I may never never see my grandmother again I'm so frightened of her but lass said the dwarf you cannot run away your grandmother would always find you and bring you back it is your fate to become a witch like her and to sit and sew dream bags then he went on to tell her how her grandmother being a witch discovered long ago the secret of how to make dream bags those magic bags in which dreams could be caught and as it was the business of the dwarfs to catch and distribute dreams these bags were invaluable to them when a bag is full of dreams said the dwarf we go down among the sleeping children and scatter the dreams about so that the children dream the dreams that we have caught for them and when they have finished with a dream and wake up the dream floats back to us again and we pack it away in the bags for further use we can use one dream over and over again you know he continued we have stacks and stacks of bags full of old dreams but we are always catching new ones as well so we need fresh bags constantly they are wonderful dreams some of them and wonderful magic bags to hold them and keep them fresh think of it it can be good work making these bags if you sew with love in your heart instead of greed greed for gold think how much happiness dreams can give to children some people would envy you you are fated to learn the secret of sewing dream bags but I hate sewing cried Annette and I'd hate to be a witch and grow old like grandmother you would make untold wealth of course said the dwarf your grandmother has do you know that she has boxes and sacks full to the brim with gold and silver has she said Annette but what is the good of it the dwarf was silent oh sir is there no escape for me beg Annette there is one way out began the dwarf slowly oh do tell me broken Annette eagerly you could creep inside my bag and become a dream you would float away away at night into the minds of sleeping children and play with them and laugh with them and make them happy and when the dawn broke you would return to the dream bag and rest until the next night Annette's eyes grew big and round and she clapped her hands delightedly then her face became grave and should I never be a little girl like I am now anymore the dwarf shook his head but it is your only way of escape he said you have your choice and I am risking a great deal in telling you this but well I am sorry for you little Annette and think you ought to have a chance at that moment Annette heard a gate bang loudly and then the voice of her grandmother calling Annette Annette you naughty girl where have you got to come this instant her grandmother had missed her already Annette peeped out from the trees and saw the old woman coming down the hill how old and cross and ugly her grandmother looked how dreadful to grow like that Annette looked up to the clear night sky and remembered the whisper of smoke floating carelessly away in the air how free and fresh it must be to be a dream and play with little children like herself until the dawn then she looked down at the silent waiting dwarf Annette called her grandmother's harsh voice nearby what a plague the child is where can she be hiding Annette Annette turned to the dwarf open the bag quick she said I have decided so Annette crept inside the bag and turned into a dream and her grandmother never saw her anymore and every night Annette floats out and away and laughs and plays with other little children until the dawn breaks end of chapter 19 chapter 20 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public account LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanussia The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Part 3 Jenny's Luck Chapter 20 The lights go out in the windows the happy times Jenny was having with her friends came to a sudden and unexpected ending on the arrival one morning of Aunt Emma with the swinging earrings she arrived at half past 12 in time for luncheon and at half past five as soon as tea was over she started back for Putney and took Jenny with her it was in vain that Jenny pleaded with Uncle Nickel to try to persuade Aunt Abby not to send her away I'm so happy here oh I don't want to go Uncle Nickel please please she begged Uncle Nickel took his feet down from the hob and said he would see what could be done and then went in search of Aunt Abby but two minutes later he returned shaking his head no use Jenny my dear he said but it's only for a little time you'll be gone only a week or so I'm so afraid said Jenny that everything everything won't be the same when I come back they never are in this world said Uncle Nickel sinking into his chair and putting his feet up on the hob again but I shouldn't worry about that my dear things will change but don't take no notice of them I don't just look at when this house was all changed last time you was away they thought they was going to change me turn me out of this kitchen away from the places I like and what I'm used to but they couldn't do it I wouldn't take no notice of their changes but just went on as if nothing had happened I can't abide change I like what I'm used to and I'm going on with what I'm used to and aren't going to take no notice of them whatever but it's different with you Uncle Nickel began Jenny when the voice of Aunt Abby interrupted her Jenny, Jenny she called come along quick and get your things on or you'll make your Aunt Emma lose her train with desperation in her heart Jenny rushed upstairs and said a hurried goodbye to each of her friends who happened to be in she left messages for the others I shall be back again soon said Jenny I will see you all again when I come back won't I? but she went away full of doubts and fears in spite of Aunt Abby's saying oh I expect it will all be the same child but we don't know what's to be done for certain and she went on talking to Aunt Emma about some letters she had had from the family Aunt Emma's going to bring you back again soon so be a good girl while you're away so Jenny went back to Putney and tried hard to be a good girl but it was sometimes difficult Aunt Emma was patient and kind and talkative as usual but Jenny hated the stuffy little house and the flimsy tables more than ever the only comfort she got for herself was by going over and over again in her mind the things that had been told to her by Miss Ruby and Blackjack and Miss Primrose and all the rest of them in the old house I knew it couldn't last forever she used to tell herself it was too good to be true but I wish I could have found Mr Snatcher the imaginary Mr Snatcher with his bowler hat and bristling black moustache had always been a favourite of Jenny's in spite of his terrible outburst of temper it seemed a long time to her since she had invented a punishment for him a week or so went by and still she stayed with Aunt Emma it was exactly four and a half weeks before Jenny was taken back to Aunt Abby's and it was dusk again when she arrived when the gates were reached Jenny dared hardly lift her eyes to look at the windows they would be all in darkness she feared time and again she had asked Aunt Emma if she knew what was happening at Aunt Abby's but Aunt Emma had always said she had not heard from Aunt Abby she followed Aunt Emma inside the gate turned and carefully fastened the latch then turned again and looked up the windows were all in darkness all but one Jenny felt a lump in her throat she had to blink her eyes rapidly to see her way to the door at first sight things were not much changed in Aunt Abby's quarters there were fewer servants but there were still servants about and Aunt Abby was still in her alpaca dress Uncle Nick or of course was exactly as Jenny had left him but he looked happier not so many of them to fuss around and get in my way he explained, glancing over the top of his newspaper at the white apron's servants who were moving in and out of the kitchen Uncle Nickle what's happened asked Jenny anxiously hey said Uncle Nickle oh yes my dear the rest oh more whatever they called it has been closed down they've all gone and one of the family has come back to live here from scraps of conversation she overheard between Aunt Abby and Aunt Emma Jenny realised that this was indeed the fact they had gone she'd lost them all her friends that was all she could think of for the moment but when she lay in bed that night back in the old nursery with Miss Claire's doll in her arms she told herself that she hadn't lost every bit of them I knew them before I found them she puzzled it out to herself and I can always have them like I did at first though it might be the same now the next day she stole along a long twisting passage and managed to peep inside some of the rooms they were empty and silent once more and some of them were covered all over with dust sheets one or two however were evidently in use and Jenny remembered the one lighted window she had seen on the previous evening I suppose that's the room the family uses of an evening she said to herself and so she wandered about along the passage and up and down the stairs that day a little lost and bewildered but going very quietly in case Aunt Abby heard her and took her downstairs to the basement End of Chapter 20 Chapter 21 of The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Zanusha The House with the Twisting Passage by Marion St John Webb Chapter 21 The Finding of Mr Snatcher It was as she was standing by a window at one end of the Twisting Passage that afternoon that she suddenly made an extraordinary discovery She was looking down into the garden when she heard the tramp, tramp of heavy boots coming along the gravel path round the corner of the house She leaned out It was the dustman coming to fetch the dustbin which was underneath her window That's not the dustman who used to come It's a new one thought Jenny And yet, I seem to have seen him before She looked down at the round top of his hat which was smothered in fine dust The dustman called out to one of the servants in a rather irritable voice Then he looked up and Jenny saw his face It's Mr Snatcher She gasped in amazement called her head in and then put it out again at once as she heard the sound of voices raised in some dispute One of the servants had come out and the dustman was speaking to her in a sharp, angry voice The next minute he burst into a violent temper He seemed to be enraged at the place where the dustbin was kept and said they put it there on purpose to give him a lot of trouble More and more angry he grew his big black mustache bristling with indignation until Jenny could have cried with joy Oh, it's his Mr Snatcher It's his Mr Snatcher She was dancing up and down inside the window It's just exactly what he did I've found him I've really found him and she hung out of the window in rapture Of course I know why I didn't find him in the house She thought, I remember now for his last punishment I had turned him into a dustman and here he is I never thought I might find him like this Mr Snatcher's voice was rising higher and higher in his wrath There were three of the servants outside arguing with him now It was a wonder Aunt Abby didn't hear that she was at the front of the house I ought to invent a punishment for him Of course, said Jenny She pulled her head in and looked around for an idea Her wandering eye lighted on a very large brown rug lying on the floor of the corridor Quick as thought she picked it up, dragged it to the window and, heaving it up over the sill dropped it right on top of Mr Snatcher's head His arms shot out and he whirled round the rug whirling round with him The three maids began to shriek with laughter at the absurd spectacle One glance at the tangled mass of rug and Mr Snatcher and Jenny flew away to her bedroom and shut the door tight and there she stayed, not daring to come out again until she was obliged to go down for her tea Nobody suspected her She heard the maids still laughing over it and gathered that they thought the rug had been hanging over the sill to air and had suddenly fallen From that time on, Jenny meant to keep a watch for Mr Snatcher Now she had found him, she did not mean to lose him again and someday, when he was in a less bad temper than usual she meant to speak to him End of Chapter 21