Mrs George de Horne Vaizey

The Lady of the Basement Flat Mrs George de Horne Vaizey

At three o'clock this afternoon Evelyn Wastneys died. I am Evelyn Wastneys, and I died, standing at the door of an old country home in Ireland, with my hands full of ridiculous little silver shoes and horseshoes, and a Paris hat on my head, and a trembling treble voice whispering in my ear: - "Good-bye, Evelyn darling-darling! Thank you-thank you for all you have been to me! Oh, Evelyn, promise you will not be unhappy!" Then some mysterious hidden muscle, whose existence I had never before suspected, pulled two little strings at the corners of my mouth, and my lips smiled-a marionette smile-and a marionette voice cried jauntily: - "Unhappy? Never! Why, I am free! I am going to begin to liv