His jovial face grew stern. Like the Ancient Mariner, he addressed
himself to one in company, but all were silent and attentive.
"You say all ghost stories may be explained, Mrs. Marchmont. So would I
have said a year ago; but since we last met at your hospitable fireside,
my wife and I have gone through a very astonishing experience. We 'can a
tale unfold.' No man was better inclined to laugh at ghost stories than
I.
* * * * *
"Well, to begin my true tale. We wished for a complete change of scene
last February, and Angela thought she would like to reside in the same
county as her sisters and cousins and aunts--"
"Dorsetshire, I believe, Mrs. Henniker?" interrupted the lady of the
house.
Angela nodded.
"I intended to take a house for my family, leave them comfortably
settled in it, and run backwards and forwards between Dorsetshire and
Dublin. Well, it so happened that I did leave them for a single day
during the three months of my tenancy of the Hall. I had seen a
wonderful advertisement of a spacious dwelling-house, with offices,
gardens, pleasure grounds--to be had for fifty pounds per annum.
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