“There was nothing. And when Dr. Bates did finally lift the latch upon the little gate and saw the merry face of his own wife appear at the front window at the sound, he stepped lively up the path, eager to push open the front door and enter straightaway into the home region, his own full of warmth and chatter and the distinct possibility of a late-cooked stew. And the good doctor imagined that after the last dish had been dried and replaced upon the shelf, and the simple Annie let go back to her mother with a hot bit of pie, that he and his wife might sit right down next his sister and make a good hash pot of the day.

“But such a happy ending was not to be. For no sooner had he gained his entrance hall, then his sister Agatha appeared, fairly colliding with him in her excitement.

“‘We’ve Mary Ames here waiting for you.’

“‘What? Abby’s daughter?’

“‘Yes,’ Agatha said, her knowing eyes upon her brother’s face, ready to catch any hint of trouble, ‘lately of Grange House.’

“He turned aside and carefully placed his hat upon his own hatstand, though the trouble of the evening seemed to have followed him home, so it did not appear to matter one whit in which hall he hung his hat and coat.

“‘Well, Mary, what can I do for you?’ he asked the girl who waited for him in the snug front parlor, casting only the briefest of glances at his ottoman by the fire. His wife rose and brought him a pipe, good woman, which he took thankfully and walked to his chair.

“‘Have you seen her, sir?’ Mary Ames was frightened, and she as steady a girl as he had ever brought into the world.

“‘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.’