Gilda Joyce: The Ladies of the Lake Read Online Free

keep it as a pet.
    “Raccoons and bats?” Mrs. Joyce still seemed shaken.
    “Don’t worry about it, Mom,” said Gilda, who viewed this bit of information as a selling point in favor of the school.
    Miss Underhill led Gilda and her mother outside. “Will you both be okay in those shoes?” She peered down at their high heels. Gilda noticed that Miss Underhill herself wore flat loafers with her black pantsuit.
    “I guess,” said Mrs. Joyce reluctantly.
    “We’ll be fine.” Gilda was used to wearing costumes that included uncomfortable shoes of all types. She couldn’t help feeling a moment of sadistic satisfaction; her mother obviously regretted insisting on high heels.
    Outside, Miss Underhill led Gilda and her mother down a shady path where pine needles carpeted the forest floor. They reached a garden with a stream that flowed into several tiny waterfalls, filling the air with the happy sound of rushing water. Next to the stream, a maze of neatly trimmed hedges grew around a small sculpture of the Virgin Mary.
    “This is our Garden of Contemplation,” said Miss Underhill, leading Gilda and Mrs. Joyce over a miniature wooden bridge that arched across the stream.
    “Oh!” The heel of Mrs. Joyce’s shoe stuck in a crack in the wood, and she waved her arms, struggling to avoid a spill into the shallow water below. “That’s it; I’m taking these things off!”
    “Mine aren’t bothering me at all.” Gilda skipped past her mother and followed Miss Underhill up a small incline. Shesuddenly found herself gazing across a sizable body of water.
There really is a surprise at every turn in this place
, Gilda thought.
    “This is Mermaid Lake,” said Miss Underhill. “You probably can’t see it from this angle, but it’s actually shaped like a mermaid.”
    Gilda felt a drop of sweat trickling down her back and wished she could hurl herself into the water, clothes and all.
    “Do people ever go swimming here?”
    “No swimming allowed.”
    “Why not?”
    Instead of replying, Miss Underhill turrned to walk briskly along the edge of the lake.
    “Wait!” Carrying her pumps in one hand, Mrs. Joyce struggled up the path, trying to catch up with Gilda and Miss Underhill. “Listen, you two go on with the rest of the tour; I think I’m going to sit down in that Garden of Contemplation for a minute.”
    “We can turn back if you want.”
    “No, you two go on. My blisters have blisters!”
    Miss Underhill shrugged and turned to continue with the tour.
    “We’ll hurry,” said Gilda, feeling that Miss Underhill should have offered at least a polite word of sympathy for her mother’s blisters even though she herself had been unsympathetic. As she walked next to her glum tour guide, Gilda tried to think of something to say. “Have you worked here long?” she asked.
    “Long enough.”
    Miss Underhill was obviously in no mood for small talk. Gilda tried to think of something else to say.
    “Hot, isn’t it?” she ventured.
    “Scalding. I
hate
being out in the sun.”
    As Gilda left her mother farther behind, she mused that if Miss Underhill was actually a vampire, the secluded setting would provide a perfect opportunity for her to steal a swift, deadly chomp on the neck.
    Just then, Gilda noticed something strange. Across the lake, she saw a miniature castle—or rather, the crumbling
remains
of a castle. A solitary window peered from the only intact portion—a cylindrical structure large enough to contain a single room. All that remained of the rest of the little castle was a broken wall and the skeleton of an arched ceiling. It looked as if someone had built a small replica of the Castle House next to the lake and then thrown a grenade at it.
    “What’s that?” Gilda asked, pointing.
    “The ruins.”
    “What happened to it?”
    “It was built to look like a ruined building on purpose. It’s supposed to be picturesque or something. They have lots of fake ruins in England, so naturally the Jacksons had