The Dower House Mystery Read Online Free Page A

the table, and said in a tone of deep annoyance:
    â€œIt is, of course, a perfectly preposterous position.”
    â€œOh, entirely,” said Mr. Berry.
    George Forsham’s frown deepened. He did not wish to listen to Mr. Berry; he wished to speak.
    â€œUnfortunately,” he continued, “the fact that the position is preposterous does not—er, does not, in fact, help us to—er, well, in fact, to let the house.”
    â€œIt has been unlet for so long?”
    â€œSince my Aunt Georgina died there—in fact, for four years. I decided to let Forsham Old House and the Dower House at the same time. I had no difficulty in doing so. Mr. Bronson took the Old House, and has been, I must say, a most satisfactory tenant. Yes, I must say that I have no possible fault to find with Mr. Bronson as a tenant. He is, in fact,—er, most satisfactory.”
    If Mr. Berry felt that his valuable time was being wasted, he concealed that feeling with the aptitude born of very long practice.
    â€œYou are to be congratulated,” he said.
    â€œThe Dower House,” said Mr. Forsham, in a slightly repressive voice,—“the Dower House I—er, also let to two Miss Tulkinghorns—er, terrible name, Tulkinghorn—but admirable women, prepared to interest themselves in the parish, and—er, in point of fact, most desirable tenants—quiet, estimable ladies. Yet, one fortnight after moving into the house, they vacated it, declaring it to be haunted. The preposterous rumour dates from that time.”
    â€œOld ladies are sometimes nervous,” said Mr. Berry.
    Mr. George Forsham leaned forward and tapped upon the table. He desired Mr. Berry’s full attention.
    â€œThey had taken the house for three months, furnished, it being understood that they would stay on if they liked the neighbourhood. Their hurried departure had a most deplorable effect. Technically speaking, the Dower House has been let twice since then. I—er, use the word technically quite advisedly, Mr. Berry, because, in point of fact, although the house was let on those two occasions, it was only occupied once for forty-eight hours, and once for a bare twenty-four—and each time the same perfectly preposterous tale as to the house being haunted. I never in my life heard such a—well, such a perfectly preposterous story. The house my grandmother occupied; the house my aunts, Georgina and Harriet, lived and died in—the most blameless women, absolutely devoted to good works! Why, it’s preposterous beyond belief!”
    â€œExactly,” said Mr. Berry. “Only you can’t let the house? Ever tried living in it yourself?”
    â€œMy dear sir, I can’t get a servant to go near the place. The village is full of—er, the most ridiculous tales, and not a soul would sleep in the house if you paid them a fortune. My brother Julian and I spent a couple of nights there last time he was at home. Naturally, we saw nothing; but that hasn’t put a stop to the tales. I—er, believe that—er, in point of fact, the experiment merely made matters worse. The village—er, believes that any Forsham is immune. That, at least, is what I am informed. The ghosts, being—er, Forsham ghosts, won’t, in point of fact, haunt us.” George Forsham gave a short, angry laugh, and pushed back his chair with a grating sound. “I must be off. I’ve got an appointment,” he said, and got up, tall and thin.
    Mr. Berry got up too.
    â€œYou mentioned your brother Julian,” he said. “The Times informs me that he is in Italy; but I rather thought that I passed him on the Embankment this morning. I won’t ask any questions, of course; but if, by any chance, he is not in Italy, I should be glad if he would spare me half an hour—I will undertake that there shall be no reporters on the premises.”
    George Forsham’s manner became distant. He looked over Mr.