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But the revelation never came, and she knew it would never come. Lyng was not one of the garrulous old houses that betray the secrets intrusted to them. Its very legend proved that it had always been the mute accomplice, the incorruptible custodian of the mysteries it had surprised.
She had come to regard herself as part of the routine, a spoke of the wheel, revolving with its motion; she felt almost like the furniture of the room in which she sat, an insensate object to be dusted and pushed about with the chairs and tables. And this deepening apathy held her fast at Lyng, in spite of the urgent entreaties of friends and the usual medical recommendation of "change."
The new-comer, on seeing her, lifted his hat, and paused with the air of a gentleman perhaps a traveler desirous of having it immediately known that his intrusion is involuntary. The local fame of Lyng occasionally attracted the more intelligent sight-seer, and Mary half-expected to see the stranger dissemble a camera, or justify his presence by producing it.
IS there a ghost at Lyng?" His rejoinder had made Alida laugh again, and it was then that she had flung back tantalizingly: "Oh, there IS one, of course, but you'll never know it." "Never know it?" Boyne pulled her up. "But what in the world constitutes a ghost except the fact of its being known for one?" "I can't say. But that's the story."
Is there a ghost at Lyng?" His rejoinder had made Alida laugh again, and it was then that she had flung back tantalizingly: "Oh, there is one, of course, but you'll never know it." "Never know it?" Boyne pulled her up. "But what in the world constitutes a ghost except the fact of its being known for one?" "I can't say. But that's the story."
"That when one sees the Lyng ghost one never knows it." Her hand was on his sleeve, and he kept it there, but with no response in his gesture or in the lines of his fagged, preoccupied face. "Did you think you'd seen it?" he asked, after an appreciable interval. "Why, I actually took you for it, my dear, in my mad determination to spot it!" "Me just now?"
Even the usual misleading reports that raise expectancy in tortured bosoms had been few and fleeting. No one but the bewildered kitchen-maid had seen him leave the house, and no one else had seen "the gentleman" who accompanied him. All inquiries in the neighborhood failed to elicit the memory of a stranger's presence that day in the neighborhood of Lyng.
Ned broke in. "Life's too short for a ghost who can only be enjoyed in retrospect. Can't we do better than that, Mary?" But it turned out that in the event they were not destined to, for within three months of their conversation with Mrs. Stair they were established at Lyng, and the life they had yearned for to the point of planning it out in all its daily details had actually begun for them.
Thei that had this opinion of the originall of manne, and ascribed not the same to the prouidence of God, affirmed the Etopiens to haue bene the firste of all menne. For thei coniectured that the ground of that countrie lyng nierest the heates of the Sonne must needes first of all other waxe warme. ¶ The thirde Chapitre. ¶ The deuision and limites of the Earthe.
She had come to regard herself as part of the routine, a spoke of the wheel, revolving with its motion; she felt almost like the furniture of the room in which she sat, an insensate object to be dusted and pushed about with the chairs and tables. And this deepening apathy held her fast at Lyng, in spite of the urgent entreaties of friends and the usual medical recommendation of "change."
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