Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1886-07-01

see some distance, showed the nearest
house to be separated from us by the gar
den and the street which ran at the bottom
of it, besides the whole length Of another
garden and rambling old orchard.
rs it possible" said, feeling as if I
saw glimmer of light on the question,
''that any of your household walk in their
sleep? We hear this quite late, and it
might be possible-people have done
such things in Sleep"
Indeed, no. said she. II am afraid
that will not do as an explanation. We
| have lust now only one servant whom I
have known all my life, and [ never knew
of her doing such a thing. Besides, she
is not musical" smiling as she said it.
| II can answer for my aunt and for my
self, and-for full assurance-our piano
| is not yet unlocked. [ have the key"
| touching her watch chain. [ have been
| too occupied with my aunt to touch it as
yet"
at is more than [ can understand"
| said [, rising. 1T must be accounted for
| by some kind of echo. [ will write to my
! friend Thompson about it [ am only
staying in his house for a week or two,
as you may know. [ called because
wished you to understand how gladly
would put a stop to what annoys you,
were able" She gave me her hand on
leaving, and l thought hers one of those
! faces which seem more beautiful as you
know them better.
wrote to Thompson, and in a day Or
two the following brief, characteristic
note:
| DEAR WYNDHAM You must have been
asleep. People next door, too. Never
hear any piano, and [ have lived there IA
years. The man who was there before
me is dead, so can't send you to him for
! information. Glad I don't hear it. Can't
bear music. Delighted that you like the
country.
Yours, T.
! called at the end of the week to tell
Miss Mayne the result of my letter. The
aunt was better and down stairs; they
| gave me the afternoon tea, and I came
away thinking that the mystery, as it still
was, had at least obtained for me two very
pleasant acquaintance.
But the unexplained music did not pass
from my mind; especially as I heard it
still, though not every evening. l am
believer in what are loosely called ghosts,
and one day when Mrs. Morse was in a
talkative mood, IS she took away my tea,
brought her conversation round to the
subject OF haunted houses; hoping that
if there were any tradition belonging
to Thompson's house she would mention
it.
After many stories which she took pains
to say she 'should not think of believ
ing" she said:
This looks likely house for such stor-
les, but [ have never heard, nor look to
hear or see anything, but sGme people
are so silly. There was a silly girl we
once had here, housemaid, Away fancy
ing she heard music at night, near her
room-she slept down stairs-and at last
she left through it, though I couldn't tell
master such a tale, but had to tell master
something more sensible. Such non
sense! 1 used to tell her she dreamt of
what her head was full of, for she was all
for wonderfully fond of it. Why
couldn't she mind her work and sleep at
night without dreams, as honest people
should?
With this last moral sentiment Mrs.
Morse and the tea things clattered away
together. What she had said was odd. I
thought. certainly L was more than
half inclined to account for the piano as
something supernatural, but [ could not
call next door and say so. It would seem
ridiculous, and I should certainly run the
risk of being laughed at.
A few days later my holiday came to
an end, and [ left the lovely country with
very pleasant memories of Thompsons
old, and as [ began to believe, haunted
house. 1t did not pass away from my
memory during the busy winter days
neither did the sweet face of Miss Ethel
Mayne.
Ten years have gone since then. Some
success as an architect has come to me,
and | am married.
Last year, by one of those strange
chances which has come in some mems
lives, Thompson had very large estate
left to him in the north of France. He
went over to make arrangements for sell |
ing it, but liked the situation so well, that
he has settled there, and I have bought
his old house. Ihave thrown both houses |
into one and made several changes since |
the days when I first knew it, Amongst |
others we use as a drawing-room large
room at the back overlook |
ing the garden, which Thompson, used as
a lumber room, think.
My wife and hope to spend many sum-
mer months there.
Our stay this year had nearly come to
an end, when one Sunday evening I staid
up very late smoking. Before [ went up
stairs | remembered my wife wanted book
and I went into the drawing-room to
get it. There was no light in the room
but the glow of the fire we had enjoyed
tibet chilly evening, and [ was bending
over the table to try and find it, when a
slight movement made me look up. and
standing close by my piano I saw am
sure of it slight girlish figure with
face I shall never forget-it was so terrib-
ly sad. Slowly she moved from where
she stood and seemed to pass me.
She wore some sort Of clinging brown
dress. [ followed into the hall, where
seemed to see her go. No one was there.
L reused my wife, and together we search
ed the house-vainly of course.
[ was not in the least alarmed at the
time, beyond a slight shock in finding my
self not alone, as I had imagined; but
afterward, for months, walking or sleep
ing, that face, with its terrible grief, has
been been before me.
T 49, + j