Free The Sundial by Shirley Jackson

think I am unable to remember, Augusta, but I remember
you
clearly; you wore a red dress and the sun was shining.”
    Mrs. Willow laughed hugely. “I’ve come back to cheer you a little, Richard.”
    â€œDo
you
remember,” Richard Halloran asked, raising his eyes to Mrs. Willow, “when we rang the bells over the carriage house?”
    â€œDo I not,” said Mrs. Willow comfortably. “Ah, you used to be a gay one, Richard. Plenty of pranks in
your
time, I’ll be bound. But you’re too warm here by the fire; you,” she gestured to Essex, “come and help me move his chair.”
    â€œIf you please,” Aunt Fanny said, coming forward with dignity, “my brother is perfectly comfortable here. This is my father’s house, ma’am, and my brother may sit where he pleases within it.”
    â€œOf course he may, dear,” Mrs. Willow patted Aunt Fanny on the shoulder. “Just as soon as I have him a little bit away from the fire.”
    â€œ
This
is what you bring into a house of mourning,” Aunt Fanny said bitterly to Mrs. Halloran.
    Mrs. Willow was not listening; she had moved Richard’s chair enough away from the fire to allow her to stand wholly in front of the fireplace, and she lifted her skirt in back to warm her legs.
    â€œI shall expect you to keep away from the servants, Augusta,” Mrs. Halloran said.
    â€œWell, now,” and Mrs. Willow laughed, and the chandelier jingled. “Just because of one time I could tell you about,” and she turned to include the room in her confidential smile. “Imagine old Orianna remembering—I’ll tell
you
,” she added pointedly to Essex, “when my gels aren’t around. Now,” she said, “why don’t we get caught up on old times? Orianna, tell me everything that’s happened since I saw you last.”
    Arabella, who was the pretty one, was already whispering confidentially into the ear of Essex, and Julia, who was the clever one, was listening to Miss Ogilvie’s whisper; “Someone to
talk
to around here,” Arabella was saying, and “Snake behind the bookcase,” Julia was hearing.
    â€œI think you have quite enough company without me,” Aunt Fanny said to Mrs. Halloran. “Perhaps I might be permitted to spend the evening privately with my brother?”
    â€œSplendid,” Mrs. Willow said heartily. “Poor Richard badly wants cheering. You give him a few good laughs, my dearie, and he’ll perk up a wonder.”
    â€œOrianna?” said Aunt Fanny remotely.
    â€œOf course, Aunt Fanny.” Mrs. Halloran looked without fondness upon Arabella. “Richard,” she asked, “shall we take you back to your room now?”
    â€œI will not have eggs again,” Richard Halloran said. “Orianna, tell them in the kitchen that I will not have eggs again.”
    â€œCertainly you will not. And Aunt Fanny will be with you; I believe that they have made you a chocolate pudding.”
    â€œOrianna,” said Aunt Fanny in sudden apprehension, “where are you putting Mrs. Willow and her daughters? Naturally, in the left wing with Maryjane?”
    â€œWe must not intrude upon Maryjane’s grief, Aunt Fanny. They will be at the end of the long hall near the stairway, and on the floor above you. You cannot possibly hear them.”
    â€œI
will
hear them, Orianna,” Aunt Fanny said tautly. “You know perfectly well. I will hear them; my rest will be constantly disturbed.”
    â€œThen don’t tell anyone what goes on.” Mrs. Willow gave a huge wink and Aunt Fanny put her hand to her throat, and closed her eyes.
    â€œWill you say goodnight, Richard?” Mrs. Halloran asked, turning the wheel chair, and Mr. Halloran bowed his head graciously and said, “Goodnight to all of you.”
    â€œSweet dreams to you,” Mrs. Willow said, and Miss Ogilvie said, “Goodnight, Mr.