Gilda Joyce: The Ladies of the Lake Read Online Free Page A

to have one for themselves when they built their estate.”
    Gilda stared for a moment, as if hypnotized. The ruins looked at once beautiful and tragic; they gave her the feeling that she had stumbled into a lost, romantic world. But it was strange that they were created as a kind of trick—to look much older than they really were.
This is a place of illusions
, Gilda thought.
    Gilda and Miss Underhill passed a sculpture of four slender water nymphs dancing. Walking in a prickly silence, theyreached a stone bridge that arched over a narrower portion of the lake.
    Gilda noticed a memorial plaque cemented into the side of the bridge:
Dedicated to the memory of Dolores P. Lambert, whose time with us was too short
    “Who was Dolores Lambert?”
    Gilda let out a little yelp of shock as Miss Underhill seized her arm with a violent, pinching grasp.
    “Keep your voice down around the dead,” Miss Underhill whispered fiercely.
    Gilda was speechless with surprise and confusion. Who was dead? She hadn’t seen any tombstones around, so what was Miss Underhill talking about?
    “A girl died here.” Miss Underhill dropped Gilda’s arm. “Dolores Lambert was a freshman when she drowned in the lake. You’ll hear it from the other girls, so I may as well tell you now. If you make any noise as you walk over this bridge, her ghost rises out of the water, screaming.”
    Gilda stared into the dark, bruise-colored circles under Miss Underbill’s eyes and cringed from the sour-coffee smell of her breath. In the heat of the afternoon sun, she felt a delightful shiver of horror. “And then what happens?” she whispered.
    Miss Underhill frowned at Gilda as if she were suddenly speaking a foreign language. “What?”
    “You said her ghost rises out of the water screaming. Then what happens?”
    “I don’t think I want to find out.”
    Gilda’s mind raced with questions.
Was Our Lady of Sorrows truly haunted, or was Miss Underbill simply trying to scare her? What were the circumstances surrounding Dolores Lambert’s death by drowning
?
    Gilda had just made up her mind; she wanted to attend Our Lady of Sorrows.

4

No Escape
    Y ou’ve got to be kidding me. You’re actually going to attend Our Lady of Wallet?!”
    “It’s called Our Lady of Sorrows, Wendy.”
    Gilda lay on the purple carpeting of her bedroom floor. With her legs propped up on her unmade bed, she rested her head on a makeshift pillow of dirty laundry. She was attempting to carry on a telephone conversation with her best friend Wendy Choy while eating chips and salsa. Every now and then, a drop of salsa fell onto her polyester blouse, permanently staining it.
    “Everyone knows that all the girls who go there are like millionaires or something,” said Wendy. “What are you munching?”
    “Chips. Aren’t you curious about
why
I decided to go to Our Lady of Sorrows?”
    “Clearly you hate me and feel the need to get as far away as possible.”
    “True,” Gilda joked, “but there’s also another reason. I’ve got a psychic investigation on my hands.”
    “Would you please stop it?”
    “Stop what?”
    “I said stop that right now! Sorry, Gilda—my brother wasjust stuffing the cat into the cupboard again, even though I’ve told him a thousand times HEY! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”
    Wendy’s little brother, Terrence, was always doing things like sticking gum in his hair or trying to give the cat a bath in the toilet. Wendy often had to babysit Terrence after school while trying to finish her homework. As a result, she was very impatient with him. Gilda felt a little sorry for Terrence, since she knew what it felt like to be the younger sibling. She couldn’t understand why Wendy was so stingy about letting him tag along when they got together to watch television or to spy on neighbors. What was so bad about having a small, clueless fan who found everything you did fascinating?
    “Go watch television and leave me alone for half a minute!” Wendy yelled. “Sorry,