If you enjoy the stories of E.F. Benson, well, you'll probably hate this book as much as I did. The three brothers did nominally all write spook stories but only one did it well. A certain liveliness of image is almost always ruined here by an overtly Christian moralizing. People donate ill gotten buried treasures to build churches, that sort of thing. A mysterious white figure carries off the now smiling ghost, it having faced its misdeeds made on this mortal coil, finally, from the other side. I'm sure this sort of dreck was wildly popular among the better classes up until the mid-twentieth century. A sort of acceptable spiritualism.

It's all lost on us now even making so called contemporary inspirational fiction seem sophisticated by comparison. ( )