Angel of the Battlefield Read Online Free PDF Page B

chirped—nervously, Maisie thought.
    â€œBut that vase
broke
!” Maisie said, pointing. “Not even an hour ago!”
    â€œNo, no,” the Woman in Pink said uncertainly. “As I said, your great-great-grandfather was a collector. He must have acquired a set of Mings. A matching pair.” She began to flip the pages on her clipboard, searching for something. “There’s a list in here of the valuable pieces . . . ,” she muttered.
    Maisie squinted at the vase before her, fingering the shard she’d pocketed.
    â€œIt’s the same one!” she blurted. Right there in the middle, Maisie saw a missing piece.
Her
piece.
    â€œThat is impossible,” the Woman in Pink said. But she didn’t look like she believed that it was impossible. In fact, she looked up from her papers and stared at the vase, too.
    â€œHow do you know?” Felix said to his sister. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose.
    â€œJust trust me,” Maisie said. “I know.”
    â€œI think we are all being a little dramatic,” the Woman in Pink said. “Phinneas Pickworth collected so many treasures that they aren’t even all catalogued properly. Just look at all of it! You can see why they call this room The Treasure Chest.”
    â€œI’ll say,” Felix said. “I’ve never seen so much stuff in my life. Not even at the American Museum of Natural History.”
    Felix joined Maisie at the entrance to the room and peered in.
    â€œYoung man! Step back! This room isn’t even part of the tour.” The Woman in Pink’s face flushed as pink as her lipstick. In a shaky voice she added, “You have no idea what has gone on in here.”
    â€œIs it haunted?” Felix asked, stepping back.
    â€œNo such thing,” Maisie muttered.
    â€œExactly!” the Woman in Pink said. “Of course, all of these old houses have their share of unexplained phenomena. And Elm Medona goes far beyond the usual reports of transparent women floating down the stairs and strange noises. Why, they say that in this very room—” She stopped suddenly as if she had just realized that she was talking to children. “But as I said, it’s probably hogwash.”
    She began to walk away, motioning for them to follow.
    â€œNow, down the hall is the nursery, which I think you’ll find most fascinating.”
    Maisie hesitated, peeking again into The Treasure Chest. That vase had been broken less than an hour ago. Now it stood in The Treasure Chest, put back together. Except for one piece. And that piece was in Maisie’s pocket.
Off-limits?
Maisie grinned. She would figure out a way to get inside that room. Soon.

Breaking In
    For some reason, Maisie and Felix both thought the tour was a way to show them around their new home. But as soon as it was over, the Woman in Pink said, “If you ever want to come back in the cottage proper, your mother just has to make an appointment.”
    â€œAn appointment?” Maisie said.
    The Woman in Pink smiled nervously. She had a smear of pink lipstick on her front teeth, and the buttons on her pink suit jacket pulled in awkward directions. “Your family stays right upstairs in the family quarters. Like your great-aunt did for so long.”
    Despite a childhood in Elm Medona with tea parties in the gazebo and croquet games on the rolling lawn, Great-Aunt Maisie had spent practically her whole adult life stuck up on the third floor. Once a year, she visited them in New York City and insisted on taking them to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where she went to the Temple of Dendur and murmured about King Tut like he was an old friend. Or she brought them to the Museum of Modern Art where she stood in front of Van Gogh’s painting, muttering
Vincent, Vincent.
    Felix thought she was sad, but Maisie thought she was a little crazy.
Just because I’m named after her doesn’t mean I have to like