"Just look at Sylvia Townsend--twins to begin with." "Linda!" breathed Eileen, aghast.
"So glad you like my name, dear," murmured Linda sweetly.
"And then," continued Marian, "changes come to other people as they have to me.

I can't say that I had any fault to find with either the comforts or the conveniences of Hawthorne House until Daddy and Mother were swept from it at one cruel sweep; and after that it was nothing to me but a haunted house, and I don't feel that I can be blamed for wanting to leave it.

I will be glad to know that there are people living in it who won't see a big strong figure meditatively smoking before the fireplace and a gray dove of a woman sitting on the arm of his chair.

I will be glad, if Fate is kind to me and people like my houses, to come back to the valley when I can afford to and build myself a home that has no past--a place, in fact, where I can furnish my own ghost, and if I meet myself on the stairs then I won't be shocked by me.
"I don't think there is a soul in the valley who blames you for selling your home and going, Marian," said Linda soberly.

"I think it would be foolish if you did not." The return to the living room brought no change.