THE SECRET OF THE ICE CASTLE

7: THE GHOSTLY MUSIC

A haunting song plays on the wind in the middle of the winter night ...

Uncle Ned drove the sedan around the big circular drive that led up to the house and parked in front of the entrance to the great mansion. Almost immediately the ornately carved front door opened and a man stepped out. He was older than Uncle Ned but still had a youthful vigor about him, and he was very handsome and debonair in his stylish country tweeds.

"There is Mr. Symington now," Uncle Ned exclaimed as he turned off the ignition and opened the car door. He jumped out and walked around to help out Aunt Harriet, then greeted his employer who had come down the front steps to the drive. Louise and Jean had pushed aside the car robes and climbed out.

Aunt Harriet and the girls were introduced to Mr. Symington and he warmly welcomed them to Bleak Acres. "Thank you so much for coming. We are in a bit of a turmoil being short of staff since the hauntings started, but we shall make do. Please come in. I'll have McFarlane carry in your traveling bags. He and Mrs. Benson, the housekeeper, have been so kind as to not have run off in terror."

"I could have brought Cora along, had I known they were short of staff," Aunt Harriet said in an undertone to Louise and Jean as they walked up the front steps. "She could have helped out."

Jean chuckled at that idea. "It is best you didn't," she whispered. "Taking Applecore to a haunted house would be like allowing an elephant into a china shop!"

"Right, complete disaster," Louise quickly agreed.

They stepped through the open front door into an entry hall of massive proportions. The ceiling was high in shadows and a sweeping staircase led to a gallery above, its wall lined with stately portraits. Ornate antique furniture hugged the walls and luxurious Persian carpets lay underfoot over the tiles. As beautiful as the great hall was, the unexpected surprise of a profusion of resplendent Christmas decorations made it even more appealing. Ropes of evergreen branches and boughs of holly festooned the hall and climbed up the stairway railing, all laden with red and white ribbons and elegant ornaments of every color.

"By heavens! You still have Christmas decorations," Aunt Harriet marvelled. "It is absolutely lovely."

"We left in a hurry after Christmas," Rutherford Symington explained, "and have just this afternoon returned. Most of the staff went off too, thus the house is still decorated."

"It's a wonderful surprise," Jean said gaily, twirling around to get a look at everything. "It will be like having Christmas all over again!"

"I am so glad you are pleased," said a cultured feminine voice from above. "I like the holidays so much I could celebrate them every month."

All eyes looked up to see a comely and dignified woman descending the staircase. Her blonde hair was attractively streaked with silver and her smile was warm and welcoming. Jean and Louise instinctively knew she was the mother of the missing Lorraine Symington.

Mr. Symington introduced them to his wife, whose name was Mary, as she joined them in the hall. "I'm so happy that you could all come," she said. "After being in New York, it seemed so lonely here today."

She winked at Aunt Harriet and Louise and Jean, giving them a conspiratorial smile. "Follow me into the Winter Parlor for a special treat."

She took Aunt Harriet by the elbow and Louise and Jean and the men followed them through an archway off the hall into a large room with many floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was Victorian in decor with dark wood tones, luxurious intricately patterned carpets, and groupings of richly upholstered furniture. Like the hall, it was festooned with yards and yards of evergreen garlands and boughs, all hung with glittering ornaments. At the far end of the room, set in a wide bay window, stood a tall Christmas tree profusely laden with a myriad of Victorian ornaments including angels, bows, birds, feathers, glowing strings of lights and tinsel.