Victorian Beauties ~Part 4~

See part one, two, and three, HERE, HERE, and HERE.

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The next morning, I was up before anyone else. Dressed in my “adventure outfit,” I headed out. I plodded through meadows and fields.

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And scrambled across ditches.

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I stumbled and slipped through rock-slides and dried up river-beds.

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And then, after nearly half a day of almost non-stop journeying, I came to a forest; dark in most places, with shadows lurking here and there, and then bright stripes of sunlight that had wiggled through the dense pines. It gave the forest an eerie feel — like you were being watched. And then a faint, wispy voice murmured from somewhere in the woods, “Ro-o-o-se . . .”

*

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“Glad to see you could make it!” Sylvia chirped to her friend, Annie, as she ran up the path.

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“Do you have your disguise?” Sylvia asked. This was a vital part of her “plan.”

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Annie held up an old, stained table cloth. “Will this do?”

Sylvia nodded. “We’ll make it work.”

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Then she showed Annie her fiendishly clever disguise. “I’ll put it on right now. Do tell me if I look something other than myself, will you?”

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Then she turned around (so she would have the element of surprise).

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The brilliant, naughty little eight year-old put her disguise on and her friend considered it quite seriously.

Finally, though, she felt that if she didn’t laugh , she might explode. “You look like Ben and William Woods’ old cook lady!” she exclaimed in a fit of giggles.

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Annie pulled the table-cloth over her head and stuck a funny pair of eye-glasses onto her face. “We both look like funny old women now!” she crowed in delight.

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“Are those boot’s you’re wearing?” Annie asked curiously, once their gales of laughter had died down.

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“Indeed they are,” Sylvia replied, lifting the edge of her dress so that her friend could have a good look at the beige, knee-high boots. “They’re an old pair of Rosilia’s riding boots that she’s long since grown out of.”

Annie gazed down at her own shiny-black T-strap shoes. “I don’t suppose my shoes will help me pass as an old, poor lady?”

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“We’ll work around that,” Sylvia replied matter-of-factly.

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And then she took Annie’s hand and together they ran in the direction that Rosilia had gone earlier that day.

*

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Branches rustled and pine needles cracked. I spun around and around, eyes searching every shadow and tree branch. But I saw nothing; nothing other than the creepy forest. Branches swayed by some un-seen force. “Hello?” I called timidly.

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And then a person stepped out into the clearing.

Except it wasn’t a normal person.

He was almost . . . see-through.

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The person stood in front me and our eyes locked. He looked vaguely familiar.

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He put his hand on my cheek and whispered, “Rose.” As his hand touched my face a weird tingly feeling started spreading up my cheek.

And that’s when it hit me.

This was a ghost. My father.

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“I’ve been waiting six years for you,” Father said. “You know how I used to say that fourteen would be your year?”

I nodded.

“You are fourteen today. Tomorrow you will be fifteen. Today was the last day possible for me to tell you . . .” His eyes fixed on my locket.

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“I love you.”

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I tried to hug him as a tear trickled down my cheek. But he was a ghost — I couldn’t touch him. My arm passed right through him, but I said softly, “I love you too, Father.”

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“And I love Anastasia and Sylvia,” he continued. “I love you, Rosilia, my daughter.”

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 And then he simply vanished. After six long years of heart-break and tears and longing, I finally got to see him one last time. I finally got to hear him say those three words that I dreamed of so often. “I love you.”

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Two muffled voices arguing from behind a veil of low branches took me out of my emotional shock, at least for the time being.

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I approached carefully. I parted the branches and found . . .

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Two little beggar ladies, sitting side-by-side in the shade.

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“O-o-o-h, hello, deary,” said one. “What brings you here?”

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I stared blankly at her. “Umm . . .”

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And then, “You look kind of familiar. Have I seen you before?”

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They jumped and then the second one exclaimed, “Oh no, never! We’re quite new to these parts. From Boston, we are, we are . . .”

I turned around and headed back home, not giving the beggars another thought. All I was thinking of was my father.

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When I arrived back home Mother was waiting for me in the courtyard.

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She hugged me tightly. “I was worried, Rosilia,” she said. “I don’t know why I ever let you go . . .”

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She smoothed out her skirt and asked, “Did you find anything? And are you hurt?”

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“I’m fine, Mother,” I assured her.

“And did you find anything?”

I thought about what I could say. I found the ghost of my father in the forest? Yeah, that would go over well. Instead, I said, “No, not really.”

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“I guess it was just something Henry made up,” she said briskly.

I dropped her gaze and mumbled, “He loves you.”

“Who?” she demanded.

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Just then, Sylvia and her friend Annie skipped into the courtyard. The were clearly hiding something behind their backs.

Those old women in the forest . . . No, they were just beggars from Boston. Just beggars from Boston . . .

But for some reason or another, I didn’t quite believe that.

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“Good afternoon, Mother, Rosilia!” Sylvia chirped. “Can Annie spend the night?”

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“Good afternoon, girls,” Mother said. “And yes, Sylvia, Annie may spend the night.”

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She turned to me. “And, Rosilia, please go to bed. You are certainly worn out from today’s adventure.”

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Though it wasn’t even supper-time, I went to bed without arguing. I was that tired.

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As soon as I got my room, I changed into my night gown and got into bed. Tears of joy streamed down my cheeks and onto the pillow. I had seen my father again . . .

And at that moment, I was happier than I had ever been in six years, since the day my father died.

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Sylvia and Annie pattered into the room and stationed themselves on the bunk-beds. The stared at me, eyes bulging out of their heads in wonder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow, that was a long part. 1048 words total xD The next part will be the FINALE, so stay tuned! Oh yeah, and here’s some bonus pics to end the post . . .

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Roses =)
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~Loren

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9 thoughts on “Victorian Beauties ~Part 4~

    • =) I usually take the pictures when I’m going to write another post. But Victorian Beauties was the exception — it was getting cold, and the leaves were starting to fall off the trees, but I wanted it to have more of a spring/summer feel, so I finished taking all the pics back in October. I just didn’t get around to writing it until now . . .

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  1. Pingback: Flashback — November 2014 | Happy House of AG

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