When Mr. Henry
Westwick was here (I have this from the valet, too) he occupied
the room his brother died in (without knowing it), like you.
For two nights he never closed his eyes. Without any reason for it
(the valet heard him tell the gentlemen in the coffee-room)
he could not sleep; he felt so low and so wretched in himself.
And what is more, when daytime came, he couldn't even eat while he was
under this roof. You may laugh at me, ma'am--but even a servant
may draw her own conclusions. It's my conclusion that something
happened to my lord, which we none of us know about, when he died
in this house. His ghost walks in torment until he can tell it--
and the living persons related to him are the persons who feel
he is near them. Those persons may yet see him in the time to come.
Don't, pray don't stay any longer in this dreadful place! I wouldn't
stay another night here myself--no, not for anything that could be
offered me!'
Mrs. Norbury at once set her servant's mind at ease on this last point.
'I don't think about it as you do,' she said gravely.
'But I should like to speak to my brother of what has happened.
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