Glimpses of the Unknown: Lost Ghost Stories by Mike Ashley

Author:Mike Ashley [Ashley, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: supernatural, vintage, anthology, Spectre, haunted, dark, paranormal, haunting, Horror, possession, authentic, spooky, spirit
Publisher: British Library Publishing
Published: 2018-09-19T23:00:00+00:00

‌A Futile Ghost

‌Mary Reynolds

With Mary Reynolds we reach the author about whom I know the least, since I’m only aware of two stories by her, dating from 1897 and 1899. It is far too common a name to try and isolate an individual, and I do not know whether it was her maiden or married name. Whoever she was she produced this remarkable story which presents no ordinary ghost.

I

“Forgive me, Mary, but have you two no plans for the future beyond this hope of what old Mrs. Glyn may leave Hugh at her death?”

Miss Trevor’s long, delicately-modelled hand trembled slightly as she pushed back the lace curtain beside her, and the involuntary movement belied the lightness of the voice which answered her sister’s hesitating question.

“Plans, dear? Of course—yes. Have we not lived on our plans for the last five years? Hugh is almost willing to marry on them, but my more practical nature demands the addition of pounds, shillings, and pence. A truce to plans, Maggie—or, by the way, what are yours about this ghost business? Wells vows she will not stop her month out, and she is quite capable of spreading the tale among the housemaids.”

“I wish you would be good enough to forget the whole story, Mary. Wells had nightmare, and fancied she saw something; if she had not overheard some stupid chaff of ours, she would never have magnified her fears into a black-veiled lady.”

“Who was the first to see the said veiled lady, I wonder?” returned Miss Trevor. “If you remember, you were rather pleased than otherwise at possessing a family ghost, and felt able to snap your fingers at ill-bred people who talked of parvenus.”

“I don’t think anyone could have used that word to a Trevor, Mary, whomever she had married,” retorted Mrs. Petersen, with asperity, “and if it required a family ghost to establish Charlie’s claim to superiority, you must own that the game was hardly worth the candle. Besides, why should this apparition show herself by fits and starts to you and me, and end by frightening a staid lady’s maid into fits?”

“Oh, you admit the incident of Wells!” Miss Trevor raised her pretty eyebrows in amusement; she enjoyed teasing her dignified sister, and she had pressing reasons for wishing to keep the conversation off more intimate subjects. But this time Mrs. Petersen was really annoyed; she paced the room in unusual agitation.

“Why do you harp on these things, Mary?” she said. “Surely we have had enough of the veiled lady already. Who is she? What does she want to tell us? I am sure she bodes us all no good.”

“My dear Maggie, I had no idea of vexing you, and still less that your superstitions were so deeply rooted. Poor futile ghost, what harm can she do us? We have laid no sacrilegious hands on the goods of her order. We have done her no wrong, unless it be a wrong to amuse ourselves in the house where perhaps she ate her heart out.

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