Book III

THE COMING OF THE LADY

RUPERT SENT LEGER'S JOURNAL.

April 3, 1907.

I have waited till now--well into midday--before beginning to set
down the details of the strange episode of last night. I have spoken
with persons whom I know to be of normal type. I have breakfasted,
as usual heartily, and have every reason to consider myself in
perfect health and sanity. So that the record following may be
regarded as not only true in substance, but exact as to details. I
have investigated and reported on too many cases for the Psychical
Research Society to be ignorant of the necessity for absolute
accuracy in such matters of even the minutest detail.

Yesterday was Tuesday, the second day of April, 1907. I passed a day
of interest, with its fair amount of work of varying kinds. Aunt
Janet and I lunched together, had a stroll round the gardens after
tea--especially examining the site for the new Japanese garden, which
we shall call "Janet's Garden." We went in mackintoshes, for the
rainy season is in its full, the only sign of its not being a
repetition of the Deluge being that breaks in the continuance are
beginning. They are short at present but will doubtless enlarge
themselves as the season comes towards an end. We dined together at
seven. After dinner I had a cigar, and then joined Aunt Janet for an
hour in her drawing-room. I left her at half-past ten, when I went
to my own room and wrote some letters. At ten minutes past eleven I
wound my watch, so I know the time accurately. Having prepared for
bed, I drew back the heavy curtain in front of my window, which opens
on the marble steps into the Italian garden. I had put out my light
before drawing back the curtain, for I wanted to have a look at the
scene before turning in. Aunt Janet has always had an old-fashioned
idea of the need (or propriety, I hardly know which) of keeping
windows closed and curtains drawn. I am gradually getting her to
leave my room alone in this respect, but at present the change is in
its fitful stage, and of course I must not hurry matters or be too
persistent, as it would hurt her feelings. This night was one of
those under the old regime. It was a delight to look out, for the
scene was perfect of its own kind. The long spell of rain--the
ceaseless downpour which had for the time flooded everywhere--had
passed, and water in abnormal places rather trickled than ran. We
were now beginning to be in the sloppy rather than the deluged stage.
There was plenty of light to see by, for the moon had begun to show
out fitfully through the masses of flying clouds. The uncertain
light made weird shadows with the shrubs and statues in the garden.
The long straight walk which leads from the marble steps is strewn