Free The Blythes Are Quoted by L. M. Montgomery Page A

and out through that space. Nobody ever suspected me with my locked door.”
    Again Curtis felt a sickening sensation. How easily they had all been fooled!
    “But how could you get out of the garret?” asked Henry. “There is only one way up and down.”
    “Haven’t I told you people are easy to fool? Yes, even the astute Dr. Blythe.”
    “Let’s leave Dr. Blythe out of it. Just answer my questions.”
    “There’s a big chest up there supposed to be packed full of quilts. Old Grandmother Field left them to me ... so nobody ever disturbed them. But it isn’t really full. There is quite a space between the quilts and the back of the chest. I used to slip in there. Nobody could ever get up the garret stairs without my hearing them. Two of the steps creaked.”
    “Do they do that yet? I remember they did in my time. I had to sleep up there, you remember.”
    “I never stepped on those creaky steps. When I heard anyone coming I slipped into the chest, shut the lid, and pulled one of those thick woollen quilts over my head. Dozens of people lifted the lid of that chest ... saw it apparently full of woollen quilts ... and shut the lid again. Dr. Blythe did it several times ... dear Mr. Burns here did it twice, didn’t you?”
    “Yes,” said Curtis miserably.
    “And I was in it laughing at him! Oh, they were all such fools! But I was clever ... you can’t deny that.”
    “A durn sight too clever,” said Henry.
    “And I was a good actress. When I was a girl my ambition was to go on the stage. I could have managed it somehow. But you know what the idea of the stage was to a good Methodist. Perhaps it still is. I suppose Mr. Burns could tell you ... though he has almost lost the power of speech, it seems.”
    “I understand how old Winthrop Field would look at it,” said Henry. “But you always were a good actress.”
    “Ah, you admit that. And I could have been a great one. Don’t you admit that, Mr. Burns? But how contemptuous everyone was! ‘Do you suppose you could act, girl?’ a school-teacher jeered at me once. I wonder what he would think now. It was amusing to terrify people with an imitation of Uncle Winthrop’s laugh. I could mimic it and his voice to the life ... his and Anna Marsh’s ... anybody’s.”
    “You were always a good mimic,” agreed Henry. “But how did you rock the cradle after it was taken away?”
    “I never touched the cradle ... even when it was there. I made a rocking noise by wriggling a loose board in the floor. I could easily manipulate it without getting out of the chest.”
    “But you must have taken a lot of chances.”
    “Of course I did. That was part of the fun. Dozens of times I was almost caught ... especially the nights when Dr. Blythe watched. He was the only one I really feared. But even he wasn’t a match for me. I didn’t often play tricks on moonlight nights. Once for fun I climbed a ladder and walked along the flat ridge roof of the barn. But that was too dangerous. I was seen by some passer-by. Sometimes when people watched I did nothing. At other times it amused me to outwit them. Generally I slid down the banister. It was quicker and quieter.”
    “I remember seeing you do that when you were a kid,” mused Henry. “You used to go like greased lightning. But old Winthrop didn’t think it ladylike, did he?”
    “Lucia would never have done such a thing,” sneered Alice. “I never made any noise below stairs till I was through for the night,” continued Alice, who was plainly enjoying her confession. What fun it was to shock Curtis Burns! It seemed to surprise her that Henry Kildare took it all so coolly.
    “I never did anything without planning out a way of escape beforehand. There were plenty of hiding places if I could not get back to the closet in time.”
    “What about the violin? How did you get it without Lucia’s knowing?”
    “Oh, it wasn’t Lucia’s. Don’t you remember that old fiddle of yours you left here when you went