The ghost of the young woman in Elizabethan dress first appeared to me in the library of the big house that so recently had belonged to my parents. At first I thought it was my mother come back to the home she and my father had made for each other and where they lived happily for so many years. But there could be no reason for the ghost of my mother to wear a period costume. It might have been more appropriate for her to wear the short skirt and bobbed hair of the 1920’s when she was, though no flapper, a liberated lady of her era.
