Free High Spirits at Harroweby by Mary Chase Comstock Page B

quite limited, and I very much fear it will take more than a mere wetting to foil your cousin’s plans next time—”
    “ Next time!” Lucy interrupted with a gasp.
    Lady Sybil assumed a world-weary air. “There is always a next time, child, particularly with that rotter’s ilk.” She shuddered as she recalled Rupert’s flushed visage as he studied his lurid postcards. These had shocked even her seasoned sensibilities. “He has plans, she went on. “Despicable plans. As I say, child, my capabilities are decidedly scant and even this minimal amount of exertion has rendered me very nearly unsubstantial. I hate to even think it, but if my aim had missed its mark, I should have been powerless to do further till I recovered and by then it might well have been too late.”
    “ Oh, dear,” Lucy cried in sad exasperation. “Everything might have been lost before we had even begun to fight. Whatever shall we do?”
    “ Well, my dear,” Lady Sybil announced finally with a determined smile, “we shall just have to take stock of the weapons we have at hand. I do not believe we have a great deal of time, but together we shall contrive some sort of plan, never you fear, child.”
    Somewhat comforted, Lucy settled herself to the task at hand. “First of all, just what are your powers? What can you do besides douse dastards?”
    Lady Sybil paused for a moment trying to decide, after all those years, just which of her talents had been acquired only after she had achieved her ghostly state. “Well,” she began slowly, “I can think myself places ...”
    “ How do you mean?”
    “ Well, I just envision the drawing room or the library, for example, and—poof—there I am.” As she spoke these words, she suddenly disappeared from Lucy’s sight and reappeared almost as quickly. Looking a trifle embarrassed, the ghost went on, “I see I shall have to be more careful in future.”
    “ Can you think yourself anywhere at all?” Lucy asked.
    “ Oh no, only within this house or the surrounding gardens, unless there are special circumstances. For example, if something I owned during my lifetime is taken out of the house for some reason or other, I am free to follow it.”
    “ Capital!” Lucy exclaimed. “That’s one problem solved.”
    “ How so?” the ghost inquired. Sometimes it seemed the child’s rapid reasoning far outpaced her own, although Lady Sybil knew quite well that, in life, she had been more renowned for her beauty than her intellect.
    “ Why, we are restricted, Selinda and I. We cannot stir without being watched, you know, so it’s near enough impossible for us to confirm any of our suspicions. But you might venture out where we may not, to Mr. Basham’s, say,—he’s our man of business—and see what sort of information you might puzzle out. One way or the other,” she concluded with an assured nod, “knowing is better than not knowing, I always say.”
    In light of recent revelations concerning the authors of her demise, Lady Sybil was hard-pressed to agree. Moreover, the very thought of spending who knew what amount of time within the grimy recesses of a solicitor ’s office seemed deadly dull to the fun-loving spirit. However, she kept these sentiments to herself for the moment.
    “ What else can you do?” Lucy prodded.
    The ghost concentrated for several more moments. Then her face was lit with a thoughtful smile. “There are a few minor accomplishments,” she admitted modestly, “such as sending a chill through a room if I happen to be in bad temper. All ghosts, of course, can emit the scent of sandalwood, although I own I have never found that skill terribly useful. However, I do have one rather interesting talent which may well be of particular use to us.”
    Lucy looked at her expectantly.
    “I can tamper with dreams,” she said with a decidedly mischievous smile.
    * * * *
    Upon regaining her chamber, Selinda was relieved to find that Lucy was no longer there. To deal with her