MANY years ago one of my workmates went to live in a house not more
than five minutes walk from my address. One night, whilst he and his
wife were sitting in the house, they noticed a hand draw aside the
curtain, which hung at the middle door—the door near the pantry—and
then there stood revealed to them an old lady who looked at them for a
minute or so and vanished. One day they invited some of their
relations to tea. After they had had the meal, a young man of the
party got up from his chair and stood with his back to the fire-place,
while the other members of the party were still sitting around the
table talking. All at once, they noticed the hair on the young man’s
head stand straight up, and there was a horror-stricken look on his
face. He couldn't speak. He was looking past the table to the kitchen
door. Every member of the party turned to look in that direction, and
there stood the old lady revealed to all. My friend inquired of the
neighbours as to who had lived in the house previous to him taking
possession. They told him a young woman who was living in the next
street. He went to see her and told her about the old lady whom he
described. The young woman told him that it was her mother who had
died in that house. He told the landlord about it, saying that the old
lady seemed to come out of the pantry.
The landlord sent workmen who took up the flags in the pantry, and
then replaced them. Since that was done the old lady has never
reappeared. I asked my friends if they were not afraid of living in
the house, but they both answered, “No, the old lady seemed harmless
enough.” They are still living in the same house.