The Argosy — page 171: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

156 Was 1t a Ghost ? and what can she be?” I asked myself. I saw a sister of charity coming towards me at this moment, and it occurred to me that she might in all probability be able to answer my question. ‘Can you tell me, if you please,” I said at once, “‘who that poor woman is—that poor woman with the baby ?” The sister. stopped, turned round, and looked in the direction towards which I pointed; then turning towards me with a puzzled expression said: What woman ? What baby?” How could she ask such a question? I gazed at her bewildered. There was only one woman, such as I described, to be seen. In fact, no other human being of either sex or any age was then visible on that side of the street. “Don’t you see her?” I repeated incredulously, pointing again towards the woman, who had stopped: ‘standing at the door of that big house?” ‘TI see no one.” said the sister, I bid her good-morning, concluding that she was not quite right in her mind ; and I fancy from her expression that I left her with the same impression of myself. My strange guide moved on and I followed her; but just as I reached the big house I had spoken of she disappeared ; or rather, as Mrs. Molesworth says in one of her ghost stories, she “ was not there.” It gave me the most extraordinary feeling I have ever had. I stared and rubbed my eyes for a little, and then I began to wonder if I really had seen a ghost. I turned to give a hopeless glance behind me, and as I did so I saw a name on the brass plate of the door before which I was standing. It was ‘‘ Dr. George Mantell.” ‘“T hope you rang the bell at once,” I exclaimed. ‘IT did: the coincidence was too remarkable. I determined to see if my ghost had led me there on purpose.” Well, and was it the right Mrs. Mantell P” ‘It was, indeed, the right Mrs. Mantell,” she answered fervently, _ The best and kindest of women! My mistress first, and then my mother, And you know,” she added, glancing rather shyly at me, **T met my husband there.” I have seen a great deal of the darker side of married life, so I was not impressed by this information quite in the way she expected me to be. ‘ But the woman and the child?” I asked. ‘‘ Did you ever hear more of them ?” “Ves,” replied Mrs. Mantell. ‘‘ Before leaving the train that day, when telling me her story, she had told me her name and her mother’s name and address. I was so puzzled by what I had seen that I wrote to inquire about her. Both mother and child were dead: had been dead about three months—the child of convul- sions, the mother of decline, hastened by grief and trouble.” CONNICLOOKS, (Ee)