Free Moonlight Wishes In Time by Bess McBride Page A

jest, William,” Mrs. Sinclair said incredulously.
    “Who is she ? Did you send for the physician? What happened?” Sylvie perched on the edge of the settee, her eyes sparkling.
    “I do not know who she is,” William replied with a shake of his head . “She did not appear to need a physician, as she appears to be quite well.” He resumed his pacing to give himself time to parry his mother’s inevitable questions.
    “Appears?” his mother said sharply . “William! Is she still in the house?”
    He paused and nodded .
    “Yes, she is—”
    “But, Will, who is she?” Sylvie interrupted with wide eyes. “Does she not have a home of her own? How could she wander about in her sleeping garments in someone’s garden? Is she a guest of one of the servants?”
    William shook his head and held up a hand .
    “Be patient, Sylvie, and I will finish the story .”
    His sister sealed her lips and waited . His mother’s mouth was closed as well, but her lips seemed to be pressed together as if to bite her tongue—for the moment. He knew the look well.
    “You will believe me to be crazy or you will believe her to be crazy, so I will just say this as best I might . She is clearly not from England and states she is from America. She is not staying with anyone and has no idea how she came to be in the garden except that”—he hesitated, dreading his next words—“she also wished on the moon at the same time…from her own home in America.” He looked away from his audience’s confused expressions. “We believe some phenomenon has occurred, that in fact, she may very well have”—another cough behind his hand to clear his throat, which threatened to seize—“traveled through time.”
    Instead of the expected onslaught of questions, his words were received with acute silence . He had halted his pacing and turned to face his mother and sister, whose expressions could be called comical if he were in such a fanciful mood. Even his elegant, usually unflappable mother had allowed her jaw to slacken as she stared at him. Sylvie matched her expression.
    He took a deep breath and exhaled deeply as he dropped into the blue chair near the settee . What was the worst that could occur? They would laugh at him? Scream?
    Surprisingly, it was Sylvie who first broke the silence with a whisper.
    “Is that possible?” she whispered as she leaned forward.
    William, grateful for such a muted response, shrugged.
    “I do not know, but I have no other explanation for her presence. When you meet her, you will know that she is…not one of us.” He pressed his lips together. He could have phrased that in a better manner. “That is to say, she seems…different.”
    “Where is she, Will?” Sylvie scooted to the edge of the settee once again . “I am anxious to meet her.” 
    “She is down the hall in the green bedchamber, Sylvie,” said William, his eyes on his mother, whose cheeks were unusually red. “I shall introduce you in good time.”
    “You put a stranger on the same floor as your sister ? Was that wise, William?” William was not surprised to see his mother stiffen.
    “I had no other suitable room for her, Mother . I did not want to pique the servants’ curiosity by putting her in their quarters. Mrs. White is the only one who knows she is here. She seems harmless, albeit as confused as I about her current circumstances.” He gave a slight shake of his head.
    Mrs. Sinclair rose swiftly .
    “Is she awake ? We shall dress and go to meet her at once.”
    William jumped up .
    “Well, you see, that is part of the problem . She does not have any clothing with her except what she would normally wear to…bed.”
    His mother turned a narrowed eye on him . “Ah, yes, so you said. Sylvie, run back to your room and put on a morning frock. I will dress as well. Return in twenty minutes, and we shall go to meet our ‘guest.’ Since she will not yet be dressed, perhaps it would be better, William, if we visited her