The Marble Mantelpiece By Jessie Middleton © 2007 by http://www.HorrorMasters.com
The following story concerns a London...
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The Marble Mantelpiece By Jessie Middleton © 2007 by http://www.HorrorMasters.com
The following story concerns a London hotel in the West End, a favourite resort of fashionable people of all nationalities. The incident related occurred to a lady well known to me, and whom I will call Mrs. Hope, for, unfortunately, I am not allowed to mention her real name. “One summer,” said Mrs. Hope, “I came to town to do some shopping and was the guest of a wealthy friend who generally had a small suite at Claridge’s. It chanced that Claridge’s was quite full, and my friend could not get her usual suite, so she took rooms in another hotel not far off. “This hotel was also very full, and she had to content herself with rooms on the top floor, not well enough furnished to satisfy her, and the promise that a much better suite below would be vacant in a few days, which she could then have. “I am entering into these details because they have a bearing on the story. “My friend was located in the upper suite when I arrived, and we stayed together, spending our days in shopping, sight-seeing, motoring, and so on. “The second day of my arrival I went into the sitting-room about two o’clock, when, to my astonishment, I saw a lady dressed in outdoor clothes sitting in an arm-chair. She was extremely pretty, and sat in a graceful attitude, with her hands folded. Her dress was of soft grey material, something like ninon, and she wore a flat, wide-brimmed hat. I saw her face quite distinctly, and noticed that she was very fair and very delicate-looking. I can see her now in my mind’s eye. “We were not expecting a visitor, but naturally I concluded she must be one, and advanced towards her, when suddenly she vanished! The arm-chair stood empty as before, and the Lady had disappeared. “I said nothing to my hostess, simply because I knew she would only laugh at me; but I must Confess I felt very uncomfortable, for the figure was not a shadowy one seen in a dim light, but a very real-looking one, seen in broad daylight. “Next day we moved down into the suite of rooms on the lower floor, the occupants, a Russian prince and princess, having just left. The moment I went into the sitting-room I noticed a beautiful marble mantelpiece, and went nearer to examine it, for in these old London hotels one often comes across exquisite bits of ancient carving and decoration.. The mantelpiece reached nearly to the ceiling, and was beautifully carved with wreaths of fruit and flowers—so beautifully that Ruskin’s wonderful definition of fine architecture as ‘frozen music’ rushed into my mind. There were two marble pillars supporting it, and half-way up was a large medallion portrait of a beautiful woman. “Then I simply gasped, for on the medallion was the face of the lady I had seen upstairs, flat-brimmed hat and all. “Seeing me change colour and look startled, my hostess asked me what was the matter, and then I told her about my vision of the previous day. She was much interested and questioned the servants and the people of the hotel, but they professed to know nothing.
“No doubt they knew a great deal more than they cared to say.”