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Updated: June 23, 2025
When they stood before the door, and Berwin had assured himself that he was actually home by the use of his latch-key, Denzil wished him a curt good-night. "And I should advise you to go to bed at once," he concluded, turning to descend the steps. "Don't go! Don't go!" cried Berwin, seizing the young man by the arm. "I am afraid to go in by myself all is so dark and cold!
The footsteps of Denzil and Berwin sounding on the bare boards for the hall was uncarpeted waked hollow echoes, and when they paused the silence which ensued seemed almost menacing. The grim reputation of the mansion, its gloom and silence, appealed powerfully to the latent superstition of Lucian.
He could make nothing of Berwin as he chose to call himself he could see no meaning in his wild words and mad behaviour; but as he walked briskly back to his lodgings he came to the conclusion that the man was nothing worse than a tragic drunkard, haunted by terrors engendered by over-indulgence in stimulants.
"Occasionally," replied Diana, smiling and blushing; "and you will come down to Berwin Manor when I send you an invitation?" "I should think so," said Denzil, in high glee, as he rose to depart; "and now I will say " "Good-bye?" said Miss Vrain, holding out her hand. "No. I will use your own form of farewell au revoir."
"I beg your pardon," replied Lucian, with all humility, "but it was reported in Geneva Square that Berwin the name by which your father was known drank too much; and when I met him he was certainly not not quite himself," finished the barrister delicately. "No doubt his troubles drove him to take more than was good for him," said Diana in a low voice.
Lucian dismissed such hints of criminality from his mind as the outcome of Miss Greeb's very lively imagination; yet, even though he reduced her communications to bare facts, he could not but acknowledge that there was something queer about Mr. Berwin and his mode of life.
If this pretty woman is not the true wife of Berwin, or Vrain, or whatever this dead man's name actually may be, the assurance company will get at the rights of the matter before paying over the money." Subsequent events reflected credit on this philosophical speech and determination of Mr. Link. Had Mrs.
Berwin," said she in significant tones, "lives all alone in that haunted house." "Why not? Every man has the right to be a misanthrope if he chooses." "He has no right to behave so, in a respectable square," replied Miss Greeb, shaking her head. "There's only two rooms of that large house furnished, and all the rest is given up to dust and ghosts. Mr.
For these services Berwin paid her well, and only enjoined her to keep a quiet tongue about his private affairs, which Mrs. Kebby usually did until excited by too copious drams of gin, when she talked freely and unwisely to all the servants in the Square. It was to her observation and invention that Berwin owed his bad reputation. Well-known in every kitchen, Mrs.
"One moment," Mr. Berwin exclaimed. "You have been good enough to place me on my guard as to the talk my quiet course of life is causing. Pray add to your kindness by coming with me to my house and exploring it from attic to basement. You will then see that there are no grounds for scandal, and that the shadows you fancy you saw on the blind are not those of real people."
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