A Family Affair: A Novel of Horror Read Online Free PDF Page B

stretch out on, and hour after hour of deep, restful sleep. Even food, although she had not eaten for several hours, was less important to her than the prospect of a night’s sleep.
    I hope, she thought a bit uneasily, their sleeping habits are a little less peculiar than some of their other habits.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Kelsey House was like nothing that Jennifer had seen before. Its design defied classification, borrowing freely and without apparent purpose from every conceivable source. The entrance, which they approached now, was reminiscent of the plantation houses of the old South that Jennifer remembered from picture books; yet in this illusion the designer had failed. The porch was too small for that, all but devoured by the massive columns and the wide, sweeping stairs. Nor did the Victorian door with its ornate and multi-colored glass panels seem to belong to this setting.
    From the porch the house flared out in either direction, not straight at all as one might expect, but at peculiar angles. It was as though the house were folding its wings about the front lawn. Here a turret, there an arch, elsewhere a gable—gestures that in the hands of a true artist might have been grand but succeeded here in being only grotesque.
    â€œIt’s a strange house,” Jennifer said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”
    Aunt Christine chuckled, a light, silvery sound. “Robert Kelsey designed it himself, and built a great deal of it with his own hands. He was a talented man, although not too artistic, I’m afraid, but he wanted it to express himself and his life. He traveled a great deal, in the old country, and in our own South, before the war. I think the house reflects those travels of his—rambling, seemingly without direction, and yet tied together with a certain power; determination, if you will.”
    â€œHe must have been a fascinating man,” Jennifer said.
    â€œHe was. You would have liked him.”
    Jennifer was not so sure of that. She knew all about strong willed people, and she knew that they could be fascinating without being at all likable.
    They had come into the house. “I’ll just dress,” Aunt Christine said. “Why don’t you have a seat in the parlor and I’ll join you in a moment.”
    With a fluttering movement of her hand in the direction of what was presumably the parlor, Aunt Christine moved off down the hall. For a fleeting instant Jennifer felt the fleeting urge to go after her. She suddenly did not want to be alone, and especially not here, in this long, gloomy tunnel of a hall.
    â€œDon’t be a goose,” she said under her breath. She turned to the room Aunt Christine had indicated, and entered through the partially open door.
    She meant to sit down and was half into a small divan when, with an astonished gasp, she jerked herself upright again. The divan was filthy, covered with a thick layer of dust that did not appear to have been disturbed for years. With a shudder of disgust she quickly stood up, telling herself she would remain standing rather than suffer that kind of dirt.
    When she looked about she saw that the entire room was in the same condition. Nothing was out of place, there was no sign of litter, but everything was covered with an accumulation of dirt and dust. Parlor or not, the room was clearly one that the family had not used for years, from the look of it It looked like a room that though fully furnished, had been abandoned long before, and since then disturbed by no human presence.
    Aunt Christine coughed politely behind her. Turning, Jennifer caught her breath sharply in surprise. She had expected by this time to see her hostess clad in some more conventional style of clothing. Apparently, however, “dressing” meant nothing more to Aunt Christine than adding a filmy flowing gown of the same white gauze over the outfit she had been wearing.
    â€œWould you like to eat in