The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 28

The constant ticking of the old clock made the whole room seem dull and sleepy. The curtains were drawn, and only a warm, ruddy glow was there to lighten the pages of Gracie's book.

She felt like a prisoner as she sat there, as still and silent as could be. She didn't dare to move because Mrs. Carlyle had fallen fast asleep in the seat across from hers.

Amelia was supposed to be overseeing the girl's studies. She was a clever, well-educated woman. And she had never trusted that a tutor could teach Grace better than she could herself. But the quiet atmosphere of that room had lulled her into a happy slumber, and her student was on her own.

Grace looked up from her book in unspeakable boredom. It was a dull geography book which told her about mountain ranges and various climates around the world. Worst of all, it was written in French. She had gone over and over the words until she had a splitting headache, but it had done her little good. She knew that there were a few words she couldn't understand. And when it came to pronouncing them during the recital of her lessons, she was sure she would fail. There was nothing she could do to change her fate. She would just have to sit there and wait until her aunt woke up and could help her.

If she would only wake up! Grace yearned.

She wondered how many hours she would have to sit there idly waiting. Meanwhile, Enna and Alfred were out on the beach playing under their father's jolly supervision. Mr. Carlyle was good at entertaining children, especially his own. They would be taking a long walk and splashing in the waves and making castles in the sand. Oh, how Grace longed to get up and walk. Sitting still was hard for a girl who simply wanted to run and play.

Once or twice, Gracie's eyes glided over to the beautiful doll Enna had left on the sofa. Every time she looked at it, her heart wished to drop all of her schoolbooks and pick up that pretty little doll. But she knew that she couldn't do it. What would Arthur think of her if he caught her playing with a silly, childish toy? She was sure he already thought that she was wicked, careless, and horrible. The last thing she wanted was to give him another reason to think ill of her.

Oh, Arthur, she sighed to herself in misery, I wish I could make you happy.

She wished for many things. But right now, she wished most of all that her aunt would stop napping. With a slightly mischievous gleam in her eyes, she leaned forward and gazed intently on Amelia's peaceful face.

Perhaps if I stare at her long enough, she schemed, she will feel uncomfortable and wake up! Then I shall look back at my book as fast as I can, and she will never know what roused her!

She stared and stared, but nothing happened. Finally, she gave up with a sigh. Then other thoughts began playing with her mind. She remembered the thrill of finding the secret prison cell and the fear she and Timothy had felt when they had heard someone moving around in the hall above them.

I wonder who found that room before us? she thought, tapping her lips thoughtfully. And I wonder what that new riddle means? She tried hard to recall the poem in her memory. She had been so rushed when she had read it, but she could still remember the words quite well.

"The woman carries her urn on her shoulder,

Her soul is bemired in shame and regret,

In need of hope and a Heavenly helper,

She looks up, and lo, there her master is set."