Powers of Darkness by Fred M. White

As the girl drew back from the window, the soft silk curtains fell from her hand. A thick, white fog rose from the valley, blotting out the landscape; here and there a great elm stood out of it, like a ship becalmed on a moonlit sea. The warmth of the atmosphere chilled suddenly, and the girl in her thin evening dress shuddered. Probably there was a fire in the drawing-room; at any rate, she hoped so. An hour earlier she had been sitting in the garden amidst the full glow of summer roses. But it was often like thus on Dartdale.

How gloomy and depressing it had become all at once, and yet how characteristic of the atmosphere of the place! Time had been when Rawmouth Park was a house of love and sunshine, but that was before the death of Mrs. Martin Faber and her husband, who had followed her into the Silent Land less than six months afterwards. And now the girl was here as the ward and guest of Raymond Draycott, who had succeeded to the property.