Explore "Lud-In-The-Mist" by Hope Mirrlees on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
That night Hazel could not get to sleep. Perhaps this was due to having noticed something that afternoon that made her vaguely uneasy. The evenings were beginning to be chilly, and, shortly before supper, she had gone up to Master Nathaniel's room to light his fire. She found the widow and one of the maidservants there before her, and, to her surprise, they had brought down from the attic an old charcoal stove that had lain there unused for years, for Dorimare was a land of open fires, and stoves were practically unknown. The widow had brought the stove to the farm on her marriage, for, on her mother's side, she had belonged to a race from the far North.
On Hazel's look of surprise, she had said casually, "The logs are dampish today, and I thought this would make our guest cozier."