The Haunted Woman

In the latter half of August, Marshall Stokes went to New York, in
order to wind up the estate of the lately-deceased brother of the lady
to whom he was betrothed. As a busy underwriting member of Lloyd's, he
could ill afford the time--he was over there for upwards of a
fortnight--but no alternative had presented itself. Miss Loment had no
connections in America, she possessed no other relations, except a
widowed aunt, with whom she lived, and it was clearly out of the
question for either of the two ladies to travel across in person, to
examine books, interview lawyers, deal with claims, etc.--they had not
the necessary business experience. The task, therefore, had devolved
on Marshall. He had not been able to conclude the business, but he had
put it in a fair way of being concluded, and had appointed a reputable
firm to act as Miss Loment's representatives. The estate was worth
forty thousand dollars.

Upon his return to London about the middle of September he found
that his friends had departed for Brighton; Mrs. Moor--the aunt--
apparently was feeling rundown. A perfumed little note from Isbel
pressed him to join them there. Marshall was unable to leave town
immediately, but two days later, on Friday afternoon, he abruptly shut
down work for the week-end, and motored down by himself in glorious
weather. His heart was high, and as he ran through the richly gleaming
Sussex country, overspread with a blue, plum-like bloom, arising from
the September mists, he thought that he had never seen anything quite
so lovely. The sun was brilliant, and there was a crisp, invigorating
breeze.

He dined the same evening with Isbel and her aunt, in the public
room at the Hotel Gondy, where they were staying. Neither of the
ladies attracted as much attention as Marshall himself. His large,
loose, powerful figure went admirably with evening dress, while his
full-blooded face, still covered with ocean tan, was peculiarly
noticeable for its heavy, good-humored immobility; his very hands,
huge and crimson, yet not vulgar, marked him out from other men. Isbel
kept alternately glancing at him and smiling down at her plate with
pleasure, apropos of nothing. Most of the talking came from him.
Reserving business until afterwards, he entertained his friends during
the meal with his personal experiences in the United States, the
relation of which was rendered more piquant by a free adoption of the
very latest slang. Aunt and niece were both perfectly acquainted with
America, but they had the tact to keep this to themselves.