Books with author Patricia Wentworth

James and Carmona Hardwick are spending the summer playing host to numerous friends and relatives in an old Hardwick family residence by the sea. The arrival of Alan Field, a devastatingly handsome though shady figure from Carmona's past, destroys the holiday atmosphere in the old house and replaces it with a mounting tension, culminating in murder. Fortunately, Miss Silver is present to unravel the complex mystery and seek out the murderer amongst them.

Ladies' Bane - it was a curious name for a house. But visiting it for the first time Ione found it a curious house. Curious, and rather frightening. They said in the village that anyone who was its mistress would lose the thing she cared for most. And its present mistress was Allegra - Ione's sister. They had not met for two years. Appointments had been made but not kept. Visits had been postponed time and time again. There had been excuse after excuse. And then, suddenly Ione found herself not only invited but positively urged to come. To begin with she had been puzzled. But soon she was not only worried, but badly, deeply scared... Thank heavens Miss Silver was in town.

Ladies' Bane - it was a curious name for a house. But visiting it for the first time Ione found it a curious house. Curious, and rather frightening. They said in the village that anyone who was its mistress would lose the thing she cared for most. And its present mistress was Allegra - Ione's sister. They had not met for two years. Appointments had been made but not kept. Visits had been postponed time and time again. There had been excuse after excuse. And then, suddenly Ione found herself not only invited but positively urged to come. To begin with she had been puzzled. But soon she was not only worried, but badly, deeply scared... Thank heavens Miss Silver was in town.

The Fire Within CHAPTER I MR. MOTTTSFONT SOPINION OF HIS NEPHEW As I was going adown the dateS ing deny down dale, and deny down dale, As I was going adown the dale, A down the dale of aM onday, With never a thought of theD evil his tricks, Why who should I meet with his bundle of sticks. But the very old man of theN ursery tale. Sing deny down dale, and deny down dale. The wicked old man of theN ursery tale Who gathered his sticks of aS unday. Sing deny down, deny down dale. fLD Mr. Edward Mottisfont looked over the edge of the sheet at David Blake. My nephew Edward is most undoubtedly and indisputably a prig a damned prig9 he added thoughtfully after a moments pause for reflection. As he reflected his black eyes danced from David sface to a crayon drawing which hung on the panelled wall above the mantelpiece.(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)About the Publisher Forgotten Books is a publisher of historical writings, such as: Philosophy, Classics, Science, Religion, History, Folklore and Mythology.Forgotten Books' Classic Reprint Series utilizes the latest technology to regenerate facsimiles of historically important writings. Careful attention has been made to accurately preserve the original format of each page whilst digitally enhancing the aged text. Read books online for free at

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1912 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER IX HOW HELEN GAVE A TEA-PARTY Oh! to hear the Piper calling, Oh! to hear the echoes falling, They are rising, falling, calling, At the wayward Piper's will. And he who has heard the Piper play Has the moon, and the stars, and the sun, and the day, And the path to the hills of the Far-a-way, Where the Piper is calling still. MRS. BROWN JONES was unfashionably punctual. All her garments appeared to have been freshly starched for the occasion. For a time it seemed as if some of the surplus starch had affected her manners, and the etiquette observed would have put the Austrian Court to shame. "I have brought my daughter," said Mrs. Brown Jones, after many preliminary bows and compliments had passed, and the daughter, a very limp, dishevelled doll, was encouraged to extend a battered hand. "Her name is Miss Anna Maria Matilda Jenkins Sweet Pea," said the fond mamma, in the accents of lofty pride. Then with an abrupt transition she became Megsie Lizzie, and entered upon a rapid explanation. "It is n't really, you know, Helen lady, because mamma called her Caroline, after Aunt Caroline, who sent her to me when I was only four, but now Aunt Caroline is dead, so we call her something else." "I think Anna Maria Matilda Jenkins Sweet Pea is a beautiful name," said Helen. "Yes, isn't it? It is prettier than Caroline, only I must not say so because of Aunt Caroline being dead. People who are dead are always better than other people, aren't they?" Helen had noticed this phenomenon herself, but she did not say so. Fortunately Mrs. Brown Jones did not wait for an answer. Experience had taught her that grown-up people scarcely ever answered questions about really interesting things. "She has a terrible lot of relations," she sighed. "Your aunt...