“‘Whom, Mary?’ he asked.

“‘Widow Grange,’ the girl said. ‘I had heard you were called there.’

“‘Yes.” The doctor drew on his pipe. ‘I have seen her.’

“‘And?’ his wife prodded.

“‘She is not well.’

“‘Nay, sir. She is worse than that,’ said Mary.

“‘What do you mean, my girl?’ Agatha was sharp in her brother’s defense. ‘If the doctor says the lady is not well, then that is that.’

“‘Go on, Mary.’ Dr. Bates looked at the girl.

“‘It’s the whole house, sir,’ she whispered. ‘The whole House is not well.’

“‘Go on,’ he said again.

“‘Have you seen the smudges, sir?’

“His blood ran cold. ‘What smudges, Mary?’

“She covered her face in her hands. ‘Oh I cannot bear it!’

“The doctor rose immediately and went to the stricken girl. ‘There, there now, child. Tell me about the smudges.’

“She took the hands from her face and looked into his eyes. ‘Oh, I could not stop them, Doctor. She walked and walked, up and down, up and down the stairs, and up and down and up and down our long hall upon the third story, and behind her as she passed sprang up the marks of tiny hands upon the walls.’

“‘Mercy!’ cried the doctor’s wife.

“‘I tried to clean them, sir. I did. But there grew to be so many, and then I felt I were cleaning her very inmost parts—’

“‘Mary!’

“‘I cannot help it ma’am. I think that woman is become the house!” And then Mary buried her face upon his shoulder and wept. The doctor patted the girl and nodded at the shocked face of his wife. But his own heart beat loudly in his chest, and he was troubled indeed. Had he not seen what she described with his own eyes?

“‘There Mary,’ he said finally. ‘Widow Grange is not well. That is all. Do not be frightened.’

“‘Oh, sir, I am frightened for the sisters.’

“‘There now. If I tell you that I have promised to look in upon the House every day, will you quieten?’ And though at first the girl seemed inconsolable, after more soft words and several more reassurances, the doctor was able to soothe her and walk her to his doorway, then watch her hurry down the lane toward her home as he stood there in the cool of that June evening. But down the harbor, across from the tip of the breakwater, the light at Grange House landing did not shine where it ought.

“‘Aye, but the house is a beauty,’ Dr. Bates remarked as he returned to his hearth.

“‘Bad bedrock, I would say, for beauty,’ Mrs. Bates retorted.

“‘When there’s a one can build beauty from this rock and pineland, unforgiving as a bad judge, I say, Godspeed.’

“‘Agatha!’

“‘Yes, my dear. I do believe it.’

“‘There was a stranger there,’ remembered Dr. Bates suddenly.

“‘A stranger!’ both women cried.

“‘Aye, a nephew.’

“‘A nephew,’ Agatha repeated. ‘There is no such thing. All the Granges rest up the hill.’ She nodded in the direction of the cemetery.