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Show - 21 - her name called. "Penelope!" She shot up in bed and peered into the darkness. Perhaps it was a dream she thought, but no dream had ever been so clear and distinct. She turned on a small night lamp on the side of the bed and her eyes searched the room. Vicky stirred in her sleep, mumbled something and turned around. Then there was silence again. "Who's there?" Penny whispered. Strangely, she was not afraid. It was her lack of fear that alarmed her more than her apprehension of the dark. Normally, she would have been terrified of any strange noises. "Penelope," again she heard her name called and again she thought it might be a dream, but it was so definite in tone. "Who's there?" repeated Penny in a hoarse whisper. "If it's the lady in the portrait, don't be afraid. I'm your friend." At these words, she marveled at her bravery. There was a uneasy quietness that one feels when there is someone present that cannot be detected. Something within her knew that there was a ghost in the room, but she was not alarmed.Her instincts told her it was a friendly presence. She spoke softly and reassuringly, doing her utmost to convince the intruder that she was a friend. "Can I help you? What is it that you want?"she said. Sitting upright in the old canopied bed, Penny's gaze moved from one object to another. It passed over the night stands, lamps, draperies and dressers, but to no avail. Then, as though mesmerized,, she got out of bed, her long white nightgown trailing on the floor,and walked to the large wardrobe closet and opened the door. There she was. How she got there the young girl did not know, but she was a perfect duplicate of the lady in the picture hanging on the wall. She was tall and quite slender and her diaphanous gown fell in soft folds to the floor. Her golden hair was a mass of curls on her shoulders. Penny detected a sadness in her features and thought she saw tears in her eyes. Again the smell of gardenias. She stood in the |
