The Sundial Read Online Free PDF

crosslegged on the hearth rug. “I spend a lot of time in here,” she said. “When you’re all in bed, mostly.” She looked directly at Miss Ogilvie. “You snore,” she said.
    Miss Ogilvie, goaded, almost snarled. “You ought to be spanked,” she said.
    Fancy ran her hand richly along the soft hearth rug. “It’s going to belong to me when my grandmother dies,” she said. “When my grandmother dies, no one can stop the house and everything from being mine.”
    â€œYour grandfather—” Aunt Fanny said. “My brother—”
    â€œWell,” said Fancy, as one explaining to an unreasonable child, “of course I know that it really belongs to Grandfather. Because it belongs to the Hallorans. But it doesn’t really
seem
to, does it? Sometimes I wish my grandmother would die.”
    â€œLittle beast,” said Essex.
    â€œThis is not properly spoken, Fancy,” Miss Ogilvie said gravely. “It is very rude of you to think about your grandmother’s dying, when she has been so kind to you. And it is very rude to steal about the house at night spying on people and then making comments on—” She hesitated. “You ought to behave better,” she said.
    â€œFurthermore,” said Aunt Fanny, “you had better not count your riches before you get them. You have plenty of toys.”
    â€œI have my doll house,” Fancy said suddenly, looking for the first time squarely at Aunt Fanny. “I have my beautiful little doll house with real doorknobs and electric lights and the little stove that really works and the running water in the bathtubs.”
    â€œYou are a fortunate child,” Miss Ogilvie said.
    â€œAnd all the little dolls. One of them,” Fancy giggled, “is lying in the little bathtub with the water really running. They’re little doll house dolls. They fit exactly into the chairs and the beds. They have little dishes. When I put them to bed they have to go to bed. When my grandmother dies all
this
is going to belong to me.”
    â€œAnd where would we be then?” Essex asked softly. “Fancy?”
    Fancy smiled at him. “When my grandmother dies,” she said, “I am going to smash my doll house. I won’t need it any more.”
    _____
    Essex lay absolutely still in the dark, thinking that if no sound or movement could be heard outside the door he would be safe; always, when he held himself this still he hoped that he might be really dead.
    â€œEssex,” Aunt Fanny whispered, tapping softly, “Essex, please let me in?”
    At first, sometimes, Essex had tried to answer her. “Go away, Aunt Fanny,” he would say; “Aunt Fanny, go away from here.” Now, however, he knew that he was safer if he did not speak or move; he might even be dead.
    â€œEssex—I’m only forty-eight years old. Essex?”
    I am enclosed in the tight impersonal weight of a coffin, Essex thought; there is thick earth above me.
    â€œOrianna is older than I am. Essex?”
    I cannot turn, cannot move my head; if my eyes are open I do not know it; I dare not move my hand to feel the holding wood around me.
    â€œEssex? Essex?”
    I will try to speak into the deafening silence; I will try to move and turn my head and raise my hands and I will be held tight, tight.
    â€œLet me in, Essex—you can stay on in the house with me.”
    _____
    It was very early in the morning, so early that there was no clear light. On the terrace and on the long lawn it was dark, and only a certain knowledge that the sun rose every morning could give any hint of brightness. Aunt Fanny, who had sat all night inside her dead mother’s bedroom, and Fancy, who had awakened and stolen softly away from her sleeping mother, met and startled one another on the terrace. At first each of them saw only a dark figure, and then Aunt Fanny said “Fancy?” whispering, “what