The Death Mask: And Other Ghosts
THE DEATH MASK:
AND OTHER GHOSTS
BY
H.D. EVERETT
1920
The Death Mask: And Other Ghosts by H.D. Everett.
This edition was created and published by Global Grey 2015.
©GlobalGrey 2015
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Table of Contents
The Death Mask
Parson Clench
The Wind of Dunowe
Nevill Nugent’s Legacy
The Crimson Blind
Fingers of a Hand
The Next Heir
Anne’s Little Ghost
Over the Wires
A Water Witch
The Lonely Road
A Girl in White
A Perplexing Case
Beyond the Pale
"Yes, that is a portrait of my wife. It is considered to be a good likeness. But of course she was older-looking towards the last."
Enderby and I were on our way to the smoking-room after dinner, and the picture hung on the staircase. We had been chums at school a quarter of a century ago, and later on at college; but I had spent the last decade out of England. I returned to find my friend a widower of four years' standing. And a good job too, I thought to myself when I heard of it, for I had no great liking for the late Gloriana. Probably the sentiment, or want of sentiment, had been mutual: she did not smile on me, but I doubt if she smiled on any of poor Tom Enderby's bachelor cronies. The picture was certainly like her. She was a fine woman, with aquiline features and a cold eye. The artist had done the features justice— and the eye, which seemed to keep a steely watch on all the comings and goings of the house out of which she had died.
We made only a brief pause before the portrait, and then went on. The smoking-room was an apartment built out at the back of the house by a former owner, and shut off by double doors to serve as a nursery. Mrs. Enderby had no family, and she disliked the smell of tobacco. So the big room was made over to Tom's pipes and cigars; and if Tom's friends wanted to smoke, they must smoke there or not at all. I remembered the room and the rule, but I was not prepared to find it still existing. I had expected to light my after dinner cigar over the dessert dishes, now there was no presiding lady to consider.
We were soon installed in a couple of deep-cushioned chairs before a good fire. I thought Enderby breathed more freely when he closed the double doors behind us, shutting off the dull formal house, and the staircase and the picture. But he was not looking well; there hung about him an unmistakable air of depression. Could he be fretting after Gloriana? Perhaps during their married years, he had fallen into the way of depending on a woman to care for him. It is pleasant enough when the woman is the right sort; but I shouldn't myself have fancied being cared for by the late Mrs. Enderby. And, if the fretting was a fact, it would be easy to find a remedy. Evelyn has a couple of pretty sisters, and we would have him over to stay at our place.
"You must run down and see us," I said presently, pursuing this idea. "I want to introduce you to my wife. Can you come next week?"
His face lit up with real pleasure.
"I should like it of all things," he said heartily. "But a qualification came after. The cloud settled back over him and he sighed. "That is, if I can get away."
"Why, what is to hinder you?"
"It may not seem much to stay for, but I—I have got in the way of stopping here—to keep things together." He did not look at me, but leaned over to the fender to knock the ash off his cigar.
"Tell you what, Tom, you are getting hipped living by yourself.
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