How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.
Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.
'Me Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'
I went over and she showed me a letter.
'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Carherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older then Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was show in learbing so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white then any other colour. She says that little a Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, ''I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you.'''
Miss Galcombe stopped and looked at me.
'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'
'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'
'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'
'All in white.'
From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.
'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like-'
Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember-it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.
How will I ever forget that peaceful picture? The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss Halcombe reading the letters in the half-light, the delicate outline of Miss Fairlie's face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and sounds to remember for ever.
Later, when Miss Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss Halcombe called me.
'Me Hartright, will you come here for a minute?'
I went over and she showed me a letter.
'It's from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire called Mrs Carherick, who had come to look after her sick sister living in the village. It seems she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who was about a year older then Laura. I was at a school in Paris at the time. My mother, who took a great interest in the village school, says the little girl was show in learbing so she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura's white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white then any other colour. She says that little a Anne Catherick was so grateful, and loved her so much, that one day she kissed her hand and said, ''I'll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you.'''
Miss Galcombe stopped and looked at me.
'Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?'
'Yes, Miss Halcombe, as young as that.'
'And was she dressed from head to foot, all in white?'
'All in white.'
From where I sat, I could see Miss Fairlie walking in the garden, and the whiteness of her dress in the moonlight suddenly made my heart beat faster.
'Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter,' Miss Halcombe continued. 'It will surprise you. She says that perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like-'
Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight. And suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember-it was the extraordinary likeness between Miss Laura Fairlie and the runaway from the asylum, the woman in white.
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