My relative was on terms of the greatest intimacy with the whole family, but especially with the two younger folk, and it was generally expected that she and Wilfred would make what is vulgarly termed a "match of it." Indeed, the first of the ghostly happenings that she experienced in connection with the O'D.'s actually occurred the very day Wilfred took the long-anticipated step and proposed to her. It seems that my relative was out for a walk one afternoon with Ellen and Wilfred, when the latter, taking advantage of his sister's sudden fancy for going on ahead to look for dog-roses, passionately declared his love, and, apparently, did not declare it in vain. The trio, then, in more or less exalted spirits--for my relative had of course let Ellen into the secret--walked home together, and as they were passing through a big wooden gateway into the garden at the rear of the O'D.'s house, they perceived a tall, spare woman, with her back towards them, digging away furiously. "Hullo," Wilfred exclaimed, "who's that?" "I don't know," Ellen replied. "It's certainly not Mary" (Mary was the old cook who, like many of the servants of that period, did not confine her labour to the culinary art, but performed all kinds of odd jobs as well), "nor anyone from the farm. But what on earth does she think she's doing? Hey, there!" and Ellen, raising her naturally sweet and musical voice, gave a little shout. The woman instantly turned round, and the trio received a most violent shock. The light was fading, for it was late in the afternoon, but what little there was seemed to be entirely concentrated on the visage before them, making it appear luminous. It was a broad face with very pronounced cheek-bones; a large mouth, the thin lips of which were fixed in a dreadful and mocking leer; and very pale, obliquely set eyes that glowed banefully as they met the gaze of the three now appalled spectators. For some seconds the evil-looking creature stood in dead silence, apparently gloating over the discomposure her appearance had produced, and, then, suddenly shouldering her spade, she walked slowly away, turning round every now and again to cast the same malevolent gleeful look at them, until she came to the hedge that separated the garden from a long disused stone quarry, when she seemed suddenly to fade away in the now very uncertain twilight, and disappear. For some moments no one spoke or stirred, but continued gazing after her in a kind of paralysed astonishment. Wilfred was the first to break the silence. "What an awful looking hag," he exclaimed. "Where's she gone?" Ellen whistled. "Ask another," she said. "There's nowhere she could have gone excepting into the quarry, and my only hope is that she is lying at the bottom of it with a broken neck, for I certainly never wish to see her again. But come, let's be moving on, I'm chilly."