Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (131 page)
Read Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) Online
Authors: Travelers In Time
I
cannot
say
that
I
solved
the
whole
enigma
of
Braythe
in
the
hour before
luncheon;
but
I
faced
for
the
first
time
the
seriousness
of
a situation
that
had
always
seemed
to
me,
save
for
Lithway's
curious reactions
upon
it,
more
than
half
fantastic,
if
not
imaginary.
I
had seen,
actually
seen,
Lithway's
ghost.
I
had
not
been
meant
to
see
her; and
I
was
inclined
to
regret
the
sudden
impulse
that
had
led
me
to leave
Lithway's
library
and
go
to
my
own
room.
The
identity
of
the "ghost"
with
Mrs.
Lithway
was
appalling
to
me—the
more
so,
that there
could
have
been
no
mistake
about
the
nature
of
the
personality that
had
reluctantly
presented
itself
to
my
vision.
I
found
myself
saying:
"Could
that
look
in
her
eyes
be
the
cross
light
on
the
stairs?"
and then
suddenly
remembered
that
I
was
only
echoing
the
Lithway
of years
ago.
It
was
incredible
that
any
man
should
have
liked
the creature
I
had
seen;
and
I
could
account
for
Lithway's
long
and sentimental
relation
with
the
apparition
only
by
supposing
that
he had
never
seen
her,
as
I
had,
quite
off
her
guard.
But
if,
according
to his
hint
of
the
night
before,
he
had
come
to
confound
the
ghost
with the
real
woman—what
sort
of
marriage
was
that?
I
asked
myself.
The ghost
was
a
bad
lot,
straight
through.
It
brought
me
into
the
realm of
pure
horror.
The
event
explained—oh,
I
raised
my
hands
to
wave away
the
throng
of
things
it
explained!
Indeed,
until
I
could
talk once
more
with
Lithway,
I
didn't
want
to
face
them;
I
didn't
want
to
see
clear.
I
had
a
horrid
sense
of
being
left
alone
with
the
phantoms that
infested
the
house:
alone,
with
a
helpless,
bedridden
friend
to protect.
Mrs.
Lithway
didn't
need
protection—that
was
clearer
than anything
else.
Mrs.
Lithway
was
safe.
Before
night,
the
consultation
had
been
held,
and
it
was
decided that
Lithway
should
be
rushed
straight
to
town
for
an
operation. The
pain
was
not
absolutely
constant;
he
had
tranquil
moments; but
the
symptoms
were
alarming
enough
to
make
them
afraid
of even
a
brief
delay.
We
were
to
take
him
up
the
next
morning.
To all
my
offers
of
help,
Mrs.
Lithway
gave
a
smiling
refusal.
She
could manage
perfectly,
she
said.
I
am
bound
to
say
that
she
did
manage perfectly,
thinking
of
everything,
never
losing
her
head,
unfailingly adequate,
though
the
shadows
under
her
eyes
seemed
to
grow
darker hour
by
hour.
A
nurse
had
come
down
from
town,
but
I
could
hardly see
what
tasks
Mrs.
Lithway
left
to
the
nurse.
I
did
my
best,
out
of loyalty
to
the
loyal
Lithway,
to
subdue
my
aversion
to
his
wife.
I hoped
that
my
aversion
was
quite
unreasonable
and
that,
safe
in Europe,
I
should
feel
it
so.
I
ventured
to
say,
after
dinner,
that
I hoped
she
would
try
to
get
some
sleep.
"Oh,
yes,
I
shall!"
She
smiled.
"There
will
be
a
great
deal
to
do to-morrow;
and
the
day
after,
when
they
operate,
will
be
a
strain. There's
nothing
harder
than
waiting
outside.
I
know."
Her
eyes filled,
but
she
went
on
very
calmly.
"I
am
so
grateful
to
you
for
being here
and
for
going
up
with
us.
I
have
no
people
of
my
own,
you know,
to
call
on.
You
have
been
the
greatest
comfort."
She
gave
me a
cool
hand,
said
"good
night,"
and
left
me.
I
do
not
know
whether
or
not
Mrs.
Lithway
slept,
but
I
certainly did
not,
save
in
fitful
dozes.
I
was
troubled
about
Lithway:
I
thought him
in
very
bad
shape
for
an
operation;
and
I
had,
besides,
nameless
forebodings
of
every
sort.
It
was
a
comfort,
the
next
morning, to
hear
him,
through
an
open
door,
giving
practical
suggestions
to his
wife
and
the
nurse
about
packing
his
things.
I
went
in
to
see him
before
we
started
off.
The
doctor
was
down-stairs
with
Mrs. Lithway.
"Sorry
to
let
you
in
for
this,
my
boy.
But
you
are
a
great
help." "Mrs.
Lithway
is
wonderful,"
I
said.
"I
congratulate
you." His
somber
eyes
held
me.
"Ah,
you
will
never
know
how
wonderful —never!"
He
said
it
with
a
kind
of
brooding
triumph,
which,
at
the moment,
I
did
not
wholly
understand.
Now,
long
afterwards,
I
think I
do.
