The Lonely Bride by Fred M. White

Grace's sudden cry was quite lost upon the little man with the pencil. He was deeply engrossed with the work now, it was obvious that with proper training he might have been a capable artist. The lines were somewhat thin and feeble, but surely and slowly there grew on the paper the outline of old Water Priory, the house which had been occupied by the Grahams up to about a century ago. Now it was no more than a roofless ruin, a great part of the walls had fallen in, and all that remained was thickly covered with ivy. A great crime had taken place there over a hundred years ago, wherein, in a fit of jealousy, the Graham of the time had killed his wife and drowned himself in the pool close to the house. Old Water Priory was a picturesque spot in the daytime, with its half-empty moat and a great belt of dark firs about it, but not for a king's ransom would any villager have dared to approach it after dark. Grace for the life of her could not see any connection between the ruin and the message that "Poor Billy" was obviously attempting to convey to her.

He looked up with a smile on his face as if he felt that he had accomplished his task.