Ghost Stories of an Antiquary | Page 5

one of the bodies.
A bad business, whatever the story of it may have been. One body had
the arms tight round the other. They must have been there thirty years
or more--long enough before we came to this place. You may judge we
filled the well up fast enough. Do you make anything of what's cut on
that gold coin you have there?'
'I think I can,' said my friend, holding it to the light (but he read it
without much difficulty); 'it seems to be G.W.S., 24 July, 1865.'

THE ROSE GARDEN
Mr and Mrs Anstruther were at breakfast in the parlour of Westfield
Hall, in the county of Essex. They were arranging plans for the day.
'George,' said Mrs Anstruther, 'I think you had better take the car to
Maldon and see if you can get any of those knitted things I was
speaking about which would do for my stall at the bazaar.'
'Oh well, if you wish it, Mary, of course I can do that, but I had half

arranged to play a round with Geoffrey Williamson this morning. The
bazaar isn't till Thursday of next week, is it?'
'What has that to do with it, George? I should have thought you would
have guessed that if I can't get the things I want in Maldon I shall have
to write to all manner of shops in town: and they are certain to send
something quite unsuitable in price or quality the first time. If you have
actually made an appointment with Mr Williamson, you had better
keep it, but I must say I think you might have let me know.'
'Oh no, no, it wasn't really an appointment. I quite see what you mean.
I'll go. And what shall you do yourself?'
'Why, when the work of the house is arranged for, I must see about
laying out my new rose garden. By the way, before you start for
Maldon I wish you would just take Collins to look at the place I fixed
upon. You know it, of course.'
'Well, I'm not quite sure that I do, Mary. Is it at the upper end, towards
the village?'
'Good gracious no, my dear George; I thought I had made that quite
clear. No, it's that small clearing just off the shrubbery path that goes
towards the church.'
'Oh yes, where we were saying there must have been a summer-house
once: the place with the old seat and the posts. But do you think there's
enough sun there?'
'My dear George, do allow me some common sense, and don't credit me
with all your ideas about summer-houses. Yes, there will be plenty of
sun when we have got rid of some of those box-bushes. I know what
you are going to say, and I have as little wish as you to strip the place
bare. All I want Collins to do is to clear away the old seats and the
posts and things before I come out in an hour's time. And I hope you
will manage to get off fairly soon. After luncheon I think I shall go on
with my sketch of the church; and if you please you can go over to the
links, or--'

'Ah, a good idea--very good! Yes, you finish that sketch, Mary, and I
should be glad of a round.'
'I was going to say, you might call on the Bishop; but I suppose it is no
use my making any suggestion. And now do be getting ready, or half
the morning will be gone.'
Mr Anstruther's face, which had shown symptoms of lengthening,
shortened itself again, and he hurried from the room, and was soon
heard giving orders in the passage. Mrs Anstruther, a stately dame of
some fifty summers, proceeded, after a second consideration of the
morning's letters, to her housekeeping.
Within a few minutes Mr Anstruther had discovered Collins in the
greenhouse, and they were on their way to the site of the projected rose
garden. I do not know much about the conditions most suitable to these
nurseries, but I am inclined to believe that Mrs Anstruther, though in
the habit of describing herself as 'a great gardener', had not been well
advised in the selection of a spot for the purpose. It was a small, dank
clearing, bounded on one side by a path, and on the other by thick
box-bushes, laurels, and other evergreens. The ground was almost bare
of grass and dark of aspect. Remains of rustic seats and an old and
corrugated oak post somewhere near the middle of the clearing had
given rise to Mr Anstruther's conjecture that a summer-house had once
stood there.
Clearly Collins had not been put in possession of his mistress's
intentions with regard to this