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Tryst
He was the man she was born to love... If only he wasn't dead. As Europe is about to explode into world war, a bullet goes astray and a British secret agent is hit. But he was not supposed to die. Back at home, waiting for a man she's never met -- the man she is destined to love -- is the girl he would have married... if he had come home the way fate intended, not as a ghost.As their destiny labors to put things right, the two fall in love during one beautiful English summer, just before the outbreak of World War II.TRYST (noun): A private romantic rendezvous between lovers.
176 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1939
29 people are currently reading
1272 people want to read
About the author
Elswyth Thane
41 books139 followersThane is most famous for her "Williamsburg" series of historical fiction. The books cover several generations of a single family from the American Revolutionary War up to World War II. The action moves from Williamsburg in later books to England, New York City and Richmond, Virginia.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 145 reviews
July 30, 2011
I've just finished this incredible book and my eyes are red and snot is dripping from my nose and I have the worst headache from sobbing uncontrollably, and all I can say is I wish I could feel this way more often about a book.
- I LOVED this book.
- I ADORED this book.
- I wish I had written this book.
- I wish this was one of those black & white movies from old Hollywood ala "The Ghost & Mrs. Muir".
- I wish I had read this when I was 17 years old.
and my highest praise of all....
wait for it....
it's coming....
drumroll....
- If this book was a man, it would be Richard Armitage.
(I know, I know, I mention him far too often on Goodreads)
This book was pure romantic escapism, pure comfort, pure old-fashioned delight, simply charming, and utterly Hannah-lishious. This simple ghost/love story, written in 1939, was what A Certain Slant of Light should have been, as it tells the story of a dead man and a live woman who try to bridge the gap between life and death. Their love story is dream-like, poignant, bittersweet and very touching, and if I have one complaint (and I do), it is that writer Elswyth Thane brought this story to a completely unnecessary abrupt end, and left me feeling like a baby whose pacifier had been taken. Three more pages would have been reading perfection.
If you enjoy clean, cozy, totally romantic, 2-hanky love stories, find this hard-to-find novel at your library, used book store or granny's bookcase and give yourself a treat.
You can thank me later :)
- I LOVED this book.
- I ADORED this book.
- I wish I had written this book.
- I wish this was one of those black & white movies from old Hollywood ala "The Ghost & Mrs. Muir".
- I wish I had read this when I was 17 years old.
and my highest praise of all....
wait for it....
it's coming....
drumroll....
- If this book was a man, it would be Richard Armitage.
(I know, I know, I mention him far too often on Goodreads)
This book was pure romantic escapism, pure comfort, pure old-fashioned delight, simply charming, and utterly Hannah-lishious. This simple ghost/love story, written in 1939, was what A Certain Slant of Light should have been, as it tells the story of a dead man and a live woman who try to bridge the gap between life and death. Their love story is dream-like, poignant, bittersweet and very touching, and if I have one complaint (and I do), it is that writer Elswyth Thane brought this story to a completely unnecessary abrupt end, and left me feeling like a baby whose pacifier had been taken. Three more pages would have been reading perfection.
If you enjoy clean, cozy, totally romantic, 2-hanky love stories, find this hard-to-find novel at your library, used book store or granny's bookcase and give yourself a treat.
You can thank me later :)
September 28, 2011
Not sure why this book came into my mind this past summer, but I was determined to read it again. This was my very favorite book as a young girl and I remember taking it of the library numerous times. So the hunt was on. This old fashioned book is out of print, but I found it in a small library (shared by our high-school) in my town. This nostalgic story was just as good a read to me as it was way back when. It will remain one of my very favorites...good writing...good story and still as magical to me as it was when I was twelve.
September 30, 2011
This is the sweetest ghost story I've ever read! I rather like ghost stories, but haven't read very many. In fact, I've probably written more of them than I've read.
It's because I don't go for the typical "scary ghost story" as much as "ghosts as a manifestation of people who cannot be forgotten."
I've been looking for a ghost story like this one and am so pleased I've found it! The only book that has come near to meeting this foggy, undefined criteria is A Fine and Private Place. That was a good book, but Tryst touched me so much more.
It's because I don't go for the typical "scary ghost story" as much as "ghosts as a manifestation of people who cannot be forgotten."
I've been looking for a ghost story like this one and am so pleased I've found it! The only book that has come near to meeting this foggy, undefined criteria is A Fine and Private Place. That was a good book, but Tryst touched me so much more.
October 22, 2022
I first read this as a young teen, way back in the early 1960s. Oh, how it grabbed my heart!
I just re-read this, for the first time in 60 years and found so much more to enjoy.
I am sure that the exhibit of dysfunctional family dynamics went right past teenage me as I wallowed in the romance. However, it's so obvious now that neither Sabrina's father nor aunt had any clue about raising a child. Sabrina's worries about how to be an adult can surely be attributed to her lack of any decent role model or guidance as she was growing up.
This time around I noticed the hints of the war to come in Hilary's sections of the story. I was also much more aware of the various bits of foreshadowing, as I already knew the ending. (It is very memorable!)
I enjoyed the chance to read this again as part of Retro Reads 2022 Book Pool. A nice stroll down memory lane.
I just re-read this, for the first time in 60 years and found so much more to enjoy.
I am sure that the exhibit of dysfunctional family dynamics went right past teenage me as I wallowed in the romance. However, it's so obvious now that neither Sabrina's father nor aunt had any clue about raising a child. Sabrina's worries about how to be an adult can surely be attributed to her lack of any decent role model or guidance as she was growing up.
This time around I noticed the hints of the war to come in Hilary's sections of the story. I was also much more aware of the various bits of foreshadowing, as I already knew the ending. (It is very memorable!)
I enjoyed the chance to read this again as part of Retro Reads 2022 Book Pool. A nice stroll down memory lane.
May 19, 2020
4.5 stars
What secrets lay behind the locked door at top of the stairs? Sabrina, determined to find out, begins a quest that not even she with her lively imagination could ever have dreamed.
Seventeen year old Sabrina, her father and Aunt Effie accompanied by Effie's pampered dog, Bella, have rented a nine bedroom house in the Mendip Hills. Sabrina's father, a retired professor wants to explore ancient encampments in the area while working on a book about pre-historic England. Sabrina loves the house and quiet countryside, especially after the tight quarters and noisy streets of London. She is free to roam, to read, to dream, to explore everything - except for the locked room. Mrs. Pilton, the housekeeper, a taciturn woman, explains that the room is kept locked until the landlord's son returns from his travels.
In her quiet and dignified way, Mrs. Pilton is a strong and sympathetic character and later becomes Sabrina's ally and comforter. She doesn't waste any words, especially when she is speaking with Aunt Effie. Aunt Effie, effusive and demanding, is high strung, too high strung for the gentle and reflective Sabrina. Scenes with pampered Bella and Aunt Effie are often humorously chaotic. Sabrina's father is usually absent from all family matters and defers Sabrina's care to Aunt Effie.
The locked room is Sabrina's turning point in her sheltered world. Once she gains access, her vistas open - hundreds of books await her daily visits and her growing curiosity about their owner gradually brings her closer to him. What is his name? When will he return? Does he feel her presence in his room as she feels his?
This is a love story, a story of the fragile connections and eternal bonds between two worlds. This beautifully written story is not maudlin, nor a romance, although it is romantic Elswyth Thane published this book in 1939; I first read it in paperback almost thirty years later and then again this month. It reminded me once again of the treasures I found in that used book store many years ago.
Elswyth Thane was a subtle writer. She doesn't write sentences filled with intricate detail or expound on issues of the day. However, with clever dialogue she managed to insert her views about war, social and class structure, family relationships, shoddily run government agencies and the disparity between working classes and the wealthy, while still writing a beautiful love story.
With elements including coming-of-age story, quest, and the supernatural, this book is a gentle story of two worlds and a love that transcends bounds. I was captivated, but also comforted. Perhaps our links are never broken. Perhaps we will meet again with those we love. I hope so.
What secrets lay behind the locked door at top of the stairs? Sabrina, determined to find out, begins a quest that not even she with her lively imagination could ever have dreamed.
Seventeen year old Sabrina, her father and Aunt Effie accompanied by Effie's pampered dog, Bella, have rented a nine bedroom house in the Mendip Hills. Sabrina's father, a retired professor wants to explore ancient encampments in the area while working on a book about pre-historic England. Sabrina loves the house and quiet countryside, especially after the tight quarters and noisy streets of London. She is free to roam, to read, to dream, to explore everything - except for the locked room. Mrs. Pilton, the housekeeper, a taciturn woman, explains that the room is kept locked until the landlord's son returns from his travels.
In her quiet and dignified way, Mrs. Pilton is a strong and sympathetic character and later becomes Sabrina's ally and comforter. She doesn't waste any words, especially when she is speaking with Aunt Effie. Aunt Effie, effusive and demanding, is high strung, too high strung for the gentle and reflective Sabrina. Scenes with pampered Bella and Aunt Effie are often humorously chaotic. Sabrina's father is usually absent from all family matters and defers Sabrina's care to Aunt Effie.
The locked room is Sabrina's turning point in her sheltered world. Once she gains access, her vistas open - hundreds of books await her daily visits and her growing curiosity about their owner gradually brings her closer to him. What is his name? When will he return? Does he feel her presence in his room as she feels his?
This is a love story, a story of the fragile connections and eternal bonds between two worlds. This beautifully written story is not maudlin, nor a romance, although it is romantic Elswyth Thane published this book in 1939; I first read it in paperback almost thirty years later and then again this month. It reminded me once again of the treasures I found in that used book store many years ago.
Elswyth Thane was a subtle writer. She doesn't write sentences filled with intricate detail or expound on issues of the day. However, with clever dialogue she managed to insert her views about war, social and class structure, family relationships, shoddily run government agencies and the disparity between working classes and the wealthy, while still writing a beautiful love story.
With elements including coming-of-age story, quest, and the supernatural, this book is a gentle story of two worlds and a love that transcends bounds. I was captivated, but also comforted. Perhaps our links are never broken. Perhaps we will meet again with those we love. I hope so.
August 12, 2020
Here is my review: http://perfectretort.blogspot.com/202...
In the forbidden room at the top of the stairs, Sabrina found love...and enchantment." That is what it said on the back cover copy of the Tempo paperback I found in my elementary school (I was too young to appreciate it), but there is so much more to this evocative and unforgettable story. The heroine is 17, and sensitive, self-contained, old for her years - it is inevitable that she will fall in love with the first handsome man she encounters.
How can anyone not fall in love with a book that begins: Sabrina had never picked a lock in her life, but it was done every day in books.
In the forbidden room at the top of the stairs, Sabrina found love...and enchantment." That is what it said on the back cover copy of the Tempo paperback I found in my elementary school (I was too young to appreciate it), but there is so much more to this evocative and unforgettable story. The heroine is 17, and sensitive, self-contained, old for her years - it is inevitable that she will fall in love with the first handsome man she encounters.
How can anyone not fall in love with a book that begins: Sabrina had never picked a lock in her life, but it was done every day in books.
November 24, 2014
I was intrigued by some lovely reviews of this ghostly romance from the thirties, I was thrilled to find that the library had a copy on reserve stock, and as soon as I read the opening words I was smitten:
“Sabrina had never picked a lock in her life, but it was done every day in books. She tiptoed along the carpeted upper passage and whisked around the corner to the second flight of stairs leading to the top floor of the house. Gripped tightly in one hand she carried her burglar tools- nail scissors with curved points, a button-hook, and some wire hairpins stolen from Aunt Effie’s dressing-table.”
The story of what had lead Sabrina to take such drastic action, and of what happened next, was lovely. If Mary Stewart and D E Stevenson had ever sat down together to write a ghost story it might have been rather like this.
Sabrina Archer was the loveliest of heroines; she was bright, she was bookish, and her sheltered upbringing had made her older is some ways and younger it others than her seventeen years. I found her so easy to love, so easy to understand, and why heart would rise and fall with hers as events unfolded.
She had moved with her self-absorbed father and conventional aunt to Nuns Farthing, a house they have rented in the English countryside. There was one locked room at the top of the stairs. The housekeeper explained that it was because the family member who usually occupied that room was away, abroad, and that the family hadn’t wanted to disturb his things. It was perfectly reasonable, there was more than enough house room without it, but for reasons she didn’t entirely understand Sabrina was irresistibly drawn to that one room. hence the nail scissors, the button-hook and the hair-pins.
When she gained access to the room, when she saw the desk, the armchairs, the bookshelves, the wonderful array of books on those shelves, Sabrina knew that she had been right to do what she did. Everything about the room felt like home; that feeling grew as she spent time there, and so did her interest in its absent occupant.
Hilary Shenstone was wounded on assignment in India for the Home Office and then , as he was being flown back for medical treatment, his plane was shot down. Hilary’s final thoughts were of England, and especially of Nuns Farthing. His spirit found its back there, found strangers in the house, found a kindred spirit in his room.
It wouldn’t be fair to say much more about the story than that.
There were some lovely moments, some amusing, some heart-warming, some sad, as Hilary made his way home and as Sabrina curled up in an armchair to read from his bookshelves. And though the arc of the story had a feeling of inevitability it never felt predictable, and I was always held in the moment. I was involved. I cared.
The characters are simply drawn, the logic probably wouldn’t stand up to close inspection, and I can’t deny that the story is sentimental. But it works beautifully, if you take it for what it is: a simple, ghostly, old-fashioned romance.
The ending seemed a little melodramatic, but suddenly it became so very bittersweet.
Oh how I wish that I could shelve ‘Tryst’ alongside stories like ‘Tom’s Midnight Garden’, ‘A Matter of Life and Death’ and ‘Still She Wished for Company’ - and not have to give it back to the library.
I know though that, even without a copy of the book on hand, Sabrina and her story will be staying with me.
“Sabrina had never picked a lock in her life, but it was done every day in books. She tiptoed along the carpeted upper passage and whisked around the corner to the second flight of stairs leading to the top floor of the house. Gripped tightly in one hand she carried her burglar tools- nail scissors with curved points, a button-hook, and some wire hairpins stolen from Aunt Effie’s dressing-table.”
The story of what had lead Sabrina to take such drastic action, and of what happened next, was lovely. If Mary Stewart and D E Stevenson had ever sat down together to write a ghost story it might have been rather like this.
Sabrina Archer was the loveliest of heroines; she was bright, she was bookish, and her sheltered upbringing had made her older is some ways and younger it others than her seventeen years. I found her so easy to love, so easy to understand, and why heart would rise and fall with hers as events unfolded.
She had moved with her self-absorbed father and conventional aunt to Nuns Farthing, a house they have rented in the English countryside. There was one locked room at the top of the stairs. The housekeeper explained that it was because the family member who usually occupied that room was away, abroad, and that the family hadn’t wanted to disturb his things. It was perfectly reasonable, there was more than enough house room without it, but for reasons she didn’t entirely understand Sabrina was irresistibly drawn to that one room. hence the nail scissors, the button-hook and the hair-pins.
When she gained access to the room, when she saw the desk, the armchairs, the bookshelves, the wonderful array of books on those shelves, Sabrina knew that she had been right to do what she did. Everything about the room felt like home; that feeling grew as she spent time there, and so did her interest in its absent occupant.
Hilary Shenstone was wounded on assignment in India for the Home Office and then , as he was being flown back for medical treatment, his plane was shot down. Hilary’s final thoughts were of England, and especially of Nuns Farthing. His spirit found its back there, found strangers in the house, found a kindred spirit in his room.
It wouldn’t be fair to say much more about the story than that.
There were some lovely moments, some amusing, some heart-warming, some sad, as Hilary made his way home and as Sabrina curled up in an armchair to read from his bookshelves. And though the arc of the story had a feeling of inevitability it never felt predictable, and I was always held in the moment. I was involved. I cared.
The characters are simply drawn, the logic probably wouldn’t stand up to close inspection, and I can’t deny that the story is sentimental. But it works beautifully, if you take it for what it is: a simple, ghostly, old-fashioned romance.
The ending seemed a little melodramatic, but suddenly it became so very bittersweet.
Oh how I wish that I could shelve ‘Tryst’ alongside stories like ‘Tom’s Midnight Garden’, ‘A Matter of Life and Death’ and ‘Still She Wished for Company’ - and not have to give it back to the library.
I know though that, even without a copy of the book on hand, Sabrina and her story will be staying with me.
October 29, 2008
This is not a book that one can just run out to the local bookstore and grab off the shelf. It was last printed in wide release in the 70's, and is now available mainly used or through reprint services, so it requires a little tracking down. Nevertheless, I would argue that it will be worth the effort for most readers. The story starts out just after World War I and follows 17 year-old Sabrina as her father and aunt move her from their London flat to a leased house in the country. Sabrina immediately becomes fascinated by the locked room on the top floor and picks the lock, only to discover a room filled with books and mementos that looks as if the owner stepped out only recently. The room belongs to the owner's younger brother, who we discover is on a covert operation in India. Without giving too much away, I can tell you that the room's owner ends up returning to his room (under some unusual circumstances) and finds a kindred spirit in Sabrina. There are some aspects to this story that some people might criticize. It's sentimental, some of the characters are two-dimensional, and the social relationships reflect the book's 1939 publication date. To these people I would argue that "you're thinking too much!" This is a book to read on a lazy afternoon, or to stay up too late just so you can finish it, not a book for close reading and intense discussion. I will be keeping this book close. I'm certain that it will be one of those books that I read again and again: the written equivalent of comfort food.
December 15, 2011
I read Hannah's reveiw of this book this summer and went right to my library's on-line catalog to put a hold on it. I waited for a really long time for the book to arrive when finally I was notified that my hold request was cancelled. When I went back to try again the book was no longer in the library's collection. I was disappointed...until I went shopping at 'the Friends of the Library' book sale...where lo and behold there it was waiting for me.
And I'm glad it was, I really enjoyed this, it was comfortable, easy and familiar. It reminded me of books I read when I was young. For some reason author Phyllis Whitney comes to mind, though I couldn't tell you what books of hers I've read.
I felt I'd read this before, then when I read the ending I wondered if maybe I really had read it before. It's been around since 1939... Then I wondered if there had been a movie based on the book... Anyway it's one of those "feels so familiar" kind of books. I often feel the same way about Daphne Du Marier's novels.
And I'm glad it was, I really enjoyed this, it was comfortable, easy and familiar. It reminded me of books I read when I was young. For some reason author Phyllis Whitney comes to mind, though I couldn't tell you what books of hers I've read.
I felt I'd read this before, then when I read the ending I wondered if maybe I really had read it before. It's been around since 1939... Then I wondered if there had been a movie based on the book... Anyway it's one of those "feels so familiar" kind of books. I often feel the same way about Daphne Du Marier's novels.
November 28, 2016
A novel about a young woman who, as tenant of an English country house, becomes fixated on a room she’s not supposed to enter, and the man whose room it used to be. 1939.
Full review (and many other recommendations) posted on my site: http://anotherlookbook.com/tryst-elsw...
This book has been on my "to read" list for over two years--and what's more, it's been a nagging book on that list for over two years! I've known since reading the brief plot description that this would be a very special book. And guess what...It was! If you can get your hands on a copy without breaking the bank, I'd recommend it wholeheartedly.
Full review (and many other recommendations) posted on my site: http://anotherlookbook.com/tryst-elsw...
This book has been on my "to read" list for over two years--and what's more, it's been a nagging book on that list for over two years! I've known since reading the brief plot description that this would be a very special book. And guess what...It was! If you can get your hands on a copy without breaking the bank, I'd recommend it wholeheartedly.
December 5, 2017
Ghost story masquerading as romance, it is strange, but compelling, and the ending brings waterworks.
April 5, 2021
*MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD*
Behold, a book with a more unhealthy romantic relationship than Edward and Bella’s in Twilight. People always make comparisons to Twilight, whether they are founded or not. In this instance, I mean to say that the co-dependence of the relationship is even stronger in Elswyth Thane’s Tryst than Edward and Bella’s “I can’t live without you! You are my life now!” drama. I couldn’t completely finish this book, to be honest. I skimmed the last twenty pages or so. But here’s what I got.
Teenage Sabrina is not content with her life; she doesn’t fit in. She becomes obsessed with a thirty-something man named Hilary whose bedroom appeals to her when her family rents his house. I believe that discovering someone’s dearest belongings can make you want to know them. I believe that a crush can develop in this way. But not love, not from this alone.
And when Sabrina hears of Hilary’s death, it is as if she has lost someone close to her. Fine and fair. She is upset and the possibility of meeting him has been a comfort to her. At this point, I was waiting for her to meet his ghost (in other words, for the story to get good). But what follows is not meaningful communication. Hilary comes home, falls in love with Sabrina’s beauty, and tries to speak to her. She cannot hear him. He tries to write to her. She cannot see it. In fact, their communication is not much different from when she only had his room and not his presence. She only knows that Hilary is around because of subtle ghostly actions.
That’s what bothered me so much about the story. Sabrina fell in love with a room, not a person. So what if she read the journal of his butterfly hunts and read his favourite books? That is not even close to being a substitute for getting to know who a person truly is. The same goes for Hilary. He knows three things about Sabrina: 1) She is pretty, 2) Her family sucks, and 3) She’s obsessed with him. A few commonalities do not equal true love.
Now here’s the kicker. When Sabrina’s aunt wants to send her away to school, Sabrina becomes so distraught about having to part with her object of infatuation that she almost commits suicide. Hilary physically stops her from doing it, but then Sabrina gets into a car accident a few minutes later anyway and dies. How convenient. Now they can be together.
This book has really high ratings on Amazon and Goodreads, but I was so disappointed by it. Tryst was both shallow and boring. Maybe the author was trying to pair two misfits together to have them discover that they fit with each other. An admirable premise, but it was not well-executed.
Behold, a book with a more unhealthy romantic relationship than Edward and Bella’s in Twilight. People always make comparisons to Twilight, whether they are founded or not. In this instance, I mean to say that the co-dependence of the relationship is even stronger in Elswyth Thane’s Tryst than Edward and Bella’s “I can’t live without you! You are my life now!” drama. I couldn’t completely finish this book, to be honest. I skimmed the last twenty pages or so. But here’s what I got.
Teenage Sabrina is not content with her life; she doesn’t fit in. She becomes obsessed with a thirty-something man named Hilary whose bedroom appeals to her when her family rents his house. I believe that discovering someone’s dearest belongings can make you want to know them. I believe that a crush can develop in this way. But not love, not from this alone.
And when Sabrina hears of Hilary’s death, it is as if she has lost someone close to her. Fine and fair. She is upset and the possibility of meeting him has been a comfort to her. At this point, I was waiting for her to meet his ghost (in other words, for the story to get good). But what follows is not meaningful communication. Hilary comes home, falls in love with Sabrina’s beauty, and tries to speak to her. She cannot hear him. He tries to write to her. She cannot see it. In fact, their communication is not much different from when she only had his room and not his presence. She only knows that Hilary is around because of subtle ghostly actions.
That’s what bothered me so much about the story. Sabrina fell in love with a room, not a person. So what if she read the journal of his butterfly hunts and read his favourite books? That is not even close to being a substitute for getting to know who a person truly is. The same goes for Hilary. He knows three things about Sabrina: 1) She is pretty, 2) Her family sucks, and 3) She’s obsessed with him. A few commonalities do not equal true love.
Now here’s the kicker. When Sabrina’s aunt wants to send her away to school, Sabrina becomes so distraught about having to part with her object of infatuation that she almost commits suicide. Hilary physically stops her from doing it, but then Sabrina gets into a car accident a few minutes later anyway and dies. How convenient. Now they can be together.
This book has really high ratings on Amazon and Goodreads, but I was so disappointed by it. Tryst was both shallow and boring. Maybe the author was trying to pair two misfits together to have them discover that they fit with each other. An admirable premise, but it was not well-executed.
April 12, 2021
What an entertaining ghostly story, which is not my usual taste. After seeing several raves, I began to look for it, and found it is a rarity. But I finally tracked it down at Internet Archive, easy to download to my Kindle.
August 20, 2015
4.5 stars!
A perfect comfort read -- a lonely, quiet girl who loves books, an old English house, a locked and forbidden room ...the premise hooked me right from the start. What she finds behind the locked door is her destiny and her fate -- charming, heartbreaking, and definitely a keeper!
A perfect comfort read -- a lonely, quiet girl who loves books, an old English house, a locked and forbidden room ...the premise hooked me right from the start. What she finds behind the locked door is her destiny and her fate -- charming, heartbreaking, and definitely a keeper!
August 19, 2015
This book has everything your average Nora Roberts supernatural novel does not: likeable characters, writing above a second grade level, a great plot, emphasis on building relationships and a lovely ending. It's an old book though--1939--and that makes it all the better of a find. Great read!
May 5, 2016
Lovely old-fashioned novel with kind of a surprising resolution, although the only one possible. Would have liked more of a wrap up regarding Mrs Pilton and Aunt Effie. Very cinematic. Too bad old Hollywood never discovered it.
January 28, 2013
I love this book. I’ve loved it since I first read it at the age of, perhaps, twelve. I read it many times during my youth, before I managed to lose it, possibly in the course of a move. It wasn’t until about ten years ago that I was able to remember the title so I could search for another copy of it. Once I’d found one, I added it to my collection, but without reading it. I think I was reluctant to discover that perhaps it wasn’t as good as I remembered it to be, or worse still, that it was complete rubbish.
I needn’t have worried. Great literature, it’s not, but as soon as I began to reread Tryst recently, I was once again under its spell. Seriously, I think this book should be put into the hands of every bookish young girl (and boy?) on the verge of adolescence. It’s about the importance of friendship to love. It’s about finding a kindred spirit, not a heart throb. Sabrina, our seventeen-year-old heroine, is in love with someone she has never met. All she knows about him is what she can glean from the belongings he has left behind in his room, in the house her family is renting. Granted, this is not so very different from falling in love with a celebrity, but Sabrina is not as shallow as that—she has taken the time to find out about Hilary from his belongings, in particular his books. And I’m sure all of us here at Goodreads will agree that this is one of the best possible ways to learn about a person.
There’s just one important thing Sabrina doesn’t know about Hilary—but I’d better not say.
To be perfectly honest, my adult self finds all kinds of fault with Tryst. It was written in 1939, so one has to make allowances, but it is marred by an old-fashioned sort of sentimentality, by characters that are one-dimensional stock figures, by patriotic propaganda, and by an inept approach to providing back-story, among other things. I don’t think I noticed any of this when I was a kid, and because the book is already part of my personal pantheon of favorites, it doesn’t spoil it for me now. I’m guessing, though, that an adult who reads this book for the first time is unlikely to love it as I do. But please, give it to your kids.
I needn’t have worried. Great literature, it’s not, but as soon as I began to reread Tryst recently, I was once again under its spell. Seriously, I think this book should be put into the hands of every bookish young girl (and boy?) on the verge of adolescence. It’s about the importance of friendship to love. It’s about finding a kindred spirit, not a heart throb. Sabrina, our seventeen-year-old heroine, is in love with someone she has never met. All she knows about him is what she can glean from the belongings he has left behind in his room, in the house her family is renting. Granted, this is not so very different from falling in love with a celebrity, but Sabrina is not as shallow as that—she has taken the time to find out about Hilary from his belongings, in particular his books. And I’m sure all of us here at Goodreads will agree that this is one of the best possible ways to learn about a person.
There’s just one important thing Sabrina doesn’t know about Hilary—but I’d better not say.
To be perfectly honest, my adult self finds all kinds of fault with Tryst. It was written in 1939, so one has to make allowances, but it is marred by an old-fashioned sort of sentimentality, by characters that are one-dimensional stock figures, by patriotic propaganda, and by an inept approach to providing back-story, among other things. I don’t think I noticed any of this when I was a kid, and because the book is already part of my personal pantheon of favorites, it doesn’t spoil it for me now. I’m guessing, though, that an adult who reads this book for the first time is unlikely to love it as I do. But please, give it to your kids.
Want to read
October 23, 2025Sabrina was 17-years-old and living with her Aunt Effie in the English countryside. It was the late 1930s and London was on the brink of WWII.
Elsewhere, a bullet went astray and a secret agent was hit. He died, except it wasn't supposed to happen like this. He meant to return home and marry with a HEA. But now he was a ghost.
Tryst can be read without charge on Archive.org though it is incorrectly listed under the name Elswyth Chane.
~~~~~
For those of you who are not familiar with Elswyth Thane, she wrote children's stories, historical fiction and romances including the Williamsburg series about Colonial America, from the 1920s through the early 1970s. She wrote about her personal life on a Vermont farm in Reluctant Farmer, reprinted as The Strength of the Hills. But her marriage to the naturalist and writer William Beebe ended sadly.
Elsewhere, a bullet went astray and a secret agent was hit. He died, except it wasn't supposed to happen like this. He meant to return home and marry with a HEA. But now he was a ghost.
Tryst can be read without charge on Archive.org though it is incorrectly listed under the name Elswyth Chane.
~~~~~
For those of you who are not familiar with Elswyth Thane, she wrote children's stories, historical fiction and romances including the Williamsburg series about Colonial America, from the 1920s through the early 1970s. She wrote about her personal life on a Vermont farm in Reluctant Farmer, reprinted as The Strength of the Hills. But her marriage to the naturalist and writer William Beebe ended sadly.
May 30, 2017
1939 love story, old house in British countryside, ghost, how could I go wrong? I had to make myself a cup of tea while reading it, at one point. It is that kind of book.
One passage did leap out at me (this is towards the end of the book): "She [Sabrina] would watch people in buses and trains and restaurants with a kind of envious awe--people who seemed to know exactly what to say and do, people who lived competently as wives or mothers, responsible for the happiness of men they had married and children they had borne. I could never do it, she would decide despairingly--I wouldn't know how, I'd make an awful hash of it, I know I would."
It struck me as a very relatable state of mind for a young woman. I wondered what would have happened to her had she not met her ghostly lover, and whether it would have been possible for her to find happiness. But that's a different book.
One passage did leap out at me (this is towards the end of the book): "She [Sabrina] would watch people in buses and trains and restaurants with a kind of envious awe--people who seemed to know exactly what to say and do, people who lived competently as wives or mothers, responsible for the happiness of men they had married and children they had borne. I could never do it, she would decide despairingly--I wouldn't know how, I'd make an awful hash of it, I know I would."
It struck me as a very relatable state of mind for a young woman. I wondered what would have happened to her had she not met her ghostly lover, and whether it would have been possible for her to find happiness. But that's a different book.
June 7, 2010
This is an old favorite from my youth and I pulled it out recently to see if it would still give that sense of comfort and innocent love, mixed with gentle spookiness. It does, in spades! I'm planning on reading more Elswyth Thane and recovering old-fashioned courtly romance--I'm sick of brassy, bold, foul-mouthed characters!
December 6, 2015
Touching, Funny & Charming! A Beautiful Read! I Loved It!
May 16, 2019
I read this poignant ghost-story romance, written in 1939, in the early 1970s, and I'm hoping to find a copy again. It's a lovely, G-rated love story.
September 4, 2011
Brilliant little novel about Sabrina a slight seventeen year old who feels that she has come 'home' when her Father takes a house on a year long lease. Nuns Farthing is the country home of the Shenstone family and the lease is on condition that they leave the one locked room in the house along; it is the 2nd son's Hilary's and he hasn't been able to clear it out as he is abroad on government business.
Finding her way into the room with the complicity of Mrs Pilton the housekeeper, Sabrina finds herself drawn to the absent Hilary; she enjoys reading his books and trying to get to know him through the things he left behind. Building a pretty fantasy about him and about what will happen when he comes home, she is shattered when his brother arrives to announce Hilary is dead. But Hilary, or rather, his ghost has already arrived at Nuns Farthing and Sabrina becomes aware of him and a strange friendship grows up.
Finding her way into the room with the complicity of Mrs Pilton the housekeeper, Sabrina finds herself drawn to the absent Hilary; she enjoys reading his books and trying to get to know him through the things he left behind. Building a pretty fantasy about him and about what will happen when he comes home, she is shattered when his brother arrives to announce Hilary is dead. But Hilary, or rather, his ghost has already arrived at Nuns Farthing and Sabrina becomes aware of him and a strange friendship grows up.
October 24, 2014
At the end of this book I had tears streaming down my cheeks. The characters were so well-developed and seemed natural - Hillary and Sabrina acted right on target for their ages. The plot was great because there was no big revelation or climax when the "mystery" is discovered - it's just a soft, calm, love story nearing perfection... I do wish it had been a big more SENSUAL though, not erotic with bodice-ripping and all that, but maybe a little more sexy. Still, any book that can make me cry like that is worth 5 stars!
December 17, 2007
What a great ghost story to read on a blustery blizzardy day in western New York! Set in a haunted house in a world ready to explode into the second world war, we find a young English girl falling madly in love with a recently deceased pilot and secret agent. There's such a strange connection between the two. And did you ever think of what it is like to be a ghost?
April 2, 2021
This is such an old book, I think I first read it in high school...in the 70's and it was old then. It is the very first supernatural love story, written for young adults, that I had ever read. I loved it, and eventually was able to find a beautiful copy of it offered online.
April 4, 2012
Re-read-just as good as I remember. First read it many, many years ago. No sex, no viiolence, just good writing, people you enjoy, romance, and a ghost...what more can you ask for?
May 24, 2017
What a treat. Something had to happen, but did not expect the ending.
February 10, 2019
A love story and a ghost story. Hard to describe, but you so want the love story to work out, despite one being dead, while the other is just beginning to really live. Their times were out of joing.
March 12, 2021
"It Haunts Me Still"
The worst thing about loaning out a book (in this case, Tryst by Elswyth Thane) is losing the book - forever - to an inconsiderate relative, "M" who probably never bothered to read the book. Whereas, my sister, "K" and I share a fierce, territorial love of books. Although, our tastes in books are at opposite ends of the spectrum, we once shared a love of the same authors when I was much younger. For instance, it was K who introduced me to Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little Women, Nancy Drew. It was my mother who turned me onto Alfred Noyes, "The Highwayman;" Louis Untermeyer; and, Joyce Kilmer: "I think I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree."
Then, there was Tryst. It was the story that literally made me lovesick; the story that I fell in love with above all others, the one I returned to time and time again and couldn't get enough of. By the time I turned thirteen I had read the book at least six or seven more times. It was the Ghost Story, the all-consuming love story before its time. The 20-something reviews on Amazon.com will attest to this book's popularity; how it affected so many readers (mostly women, I suspect).
As I said before, my sister made the mistake of loaning the book out to "M," who made the grievous error of first losing the book and then lying about it for over a year. To this day, I have not forgiven "M" for being so careless with the book that meant everything to me. A time when I lived for books, lived in books, even worked in a library just so I could be near books. There was no other world.
Now the book is next to impossible to find. Even reprints of the book cost some outrageous amount (paperback $919 on Amazon - holy!) and I'm sure it'll continue to appreciate over the years since it's such a rare book. I haven't had much luck locating Tryst in new/mint condition. Several years ago, I made a concerted effort to find the book, any book, so I could re-read it again. I found a used book, 1st edition from the Martha Canfield Library in Arlington, Vermont. It's in rough shape, quite fragile: the pages are yellowed and the binding is precariously loose, oh! but it smells so wonderful - aged paper. Imagine all those eyes, hands and fingers that traced lovingly over its pages, and lived for a while, in a wholly different dimension - the mind. Someday I hope it will be made into a movie.
Why has it not been shopped and scripted by now is a mystery. Even stranger, I googled Tryst by Elswyth Thane and came up with all kinds of startling data. One bit of information that shocked me, I never knew Elswyth Thane (Beebe) was a woman! Gasp! Here all these years I was under the impression that Elswyth was a man and the fact that I didn't even have the inclination to explore and find out more about the author, or even read the jacket cover. What was I thinking?!
Not that this revelation changes anything, certainly not my perspective on the story line, or that the writing still takes my breath away. There is something kinetic about the way the words pull the reader in, the often comical portrayal of the Aunt, and the very frail, but strong-willed Sabrina, and then of course, Hilary. The only way to explain the mystical powers of Tryst is to share one of the reviews I lifted from Amazon.com:
I remembered this book from my teenage years, and it has "haunted" me ever since. It is a love story which explains the inevitability of union when two souls are aligned. Brought to a quiet English country house by her professor father and [maiden] aunt, our shy, bookish heroine is quite content to be tucked away in the hinterlands. She has no suspicion that her life will be forever changed, or rational explanation for why she is so irresistibly drawn to the locked room at the top of the stairs. On the other hand, our hero only knows that he must follow his unreasoning desire to get home, and is all the more determined to do so after the drama and strain in the Asian desert, his most recent completion of what the high commissioner always called the "almost impossible." Death, someone explained, only ends a life; it does not end a relationship. In "Tryst," it begins one.
What makes me curious is why Elswyth Thane wrote this novel. What unfulfilled longing propelled the story to its fatal ending? And then there is the unattainable ghost-figure of Hilary, what was his role? Was there an illicit lover that Thane was seeing; or, an unrequited love? Considering the timing of the story, set in 1939, WWII looming in Europe, death became the encompassing theme of reality where love afforded Thane an idealistic view of life after death. There is a certain amount of reassurance to believing in life after death and perhaps it explains why it is still one of the more popular themes of movies and literature: e.g., "Ghost" (1990), "What Dreams May Come," (1998), "A Ghost Story" (2017) but do any of us really believe in soul mates? I don't pretend to have a pat answer or even a comforting theory, so I will leave that question struggling, openly on the table.
Of all the books I've ever read, this one has stayed with me interminably. I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing, or hopeless. I don't consider myself sentimental or romantic. Then again I can't see what one gains by being cynical and jaded either. Bitter people make for unpleasant company. Just sayin'. Maybe when I put away childish things I cut loose from those emotional ties as a convenience; and then again, maybe, deep down inside I'm still sentimental, still secretly yearning to meet the one who'll make me feel "sick" as this book once did. I encourage you to pick up a copy, read Tryst and allow yourself to be swept away.
UPDATE: You can read a copy of Tryst for free on this site
https://archive.org/details/Tryst_201...
On a final note, in an early style of blog entry, October 1998, under the title, "Quiet" Liralen, whoever she is, wrote:
While waiting on getting hungry enough for dinner, I read. My shipment from Amazon had arrived and in it was a copy of Tryst. It's a book I read when I was a teenager. [...]
Of all the books I've ever read, this one has stayed with me for two decades. Though I've forgotten nearly everything from either high school I attended, this one detail stayed with me, the one title, and the one story. I don't really know why. It's a very teen girl kind of story. Romantic, in a very, very, very odd way, it's the epitome of lost loves, as the guy's dead before she even gets there. They've missed, completely, totally, and are doing their best, anyway, him to support her, her to love him.
Anyway, I got it, and I read bits and pieces last night, and it had all the overtones I'd remembered, from before, all the implied background information, all the things that come out, all the lovely tension between the unseen ghost and the sensative [sic] girl with the differences with the entire world. So, now I have the story that haunted me, and it haunts me still.
http://www.flick.com/~liralen/journal...
The worst thing about loaning out a book (in this case, Tryst by Elswyth Thane) is losing the book - forever - to an inconsiderate relative, "M" who probably never bothered to read the book. Whereas, my sister, "K" and I share a fierce, territorial love of books. Although, our tastes in books are at opposite ends of the spectrum, we once shared a love of the same authors when I was much younger. For instance, it was K who introduced me to Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little Women, Nancy Drew. It was my mother who turned me onto Alfred Noyes, "The Highwayman;" Louis Untermeyer; and, Joyce Kilmer: "I think I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree."
Then, there was Tryst. It was the story that literally made me lovesick; the story that I fell in love with above all others, the one I returned to time and time again and couldn't get enough of. By the time I turned thirteen I had read the book at least six or seven more times. It was the Ghost Story, the all-consuming love story before its time. The 20-something reviews on Amazon.com will attest to this book's popularity; how it affected so many readers (mostly women, I suspect).
As I said before, my sister made the mistake of loaning the book out to "M," who made the grievous error of first losing the book and then lying about it for over a year. To this day, I have not forgiven "M" for being so careless with the book that meant everything to me. A time when I lived for books, lived in books, even worked in a library just so I could be near books. There was no other world.
Now the book is next to impossible to find. Even reprints of the book cost some outrageous amount (paperback $919 on Amazon - holy!) and I'm sure it'll continue to appreciate over the years since it's such a rare book. I haven't had much luck locating Tryst in new/mint condition. Several years ago, I made a concerted effort to find the book, any book, so I could re-read it again. I found a used book, 1st edition from the Martha Canfield Library in Arlington, Vermont. It's in rough shape, quite fragile: the pages are yellowed and the binding is precariously loose, oh! but it smells so wonderful - aged paper. Imagine all those eyes, hands and fingers that traced lovingly over its pages, and lived for a while, in a wholly different dimension - the mind. Someday I hope it will be made into a movie.
Why has it not been shopped and scripted by now is a mystery. Even stranger, I googled Tryst by Elswyth Thane and came up with all kinds of startling data. One bit of information that shocked me, I never knew Elswyth Thane (Beebe) was a woman! Gasp! Here all these years I was under the impression that Elswyth was a man and the fact that I didn't even have the inclination to explore and find out more about the author, or even read the jacket cover. What was I thinking?!
Elswyth Thane Ricker (Beebe) was born May 16, 1900 in Burlington, Iowa. Her father was Maurice Ricker. She began as a freelance writer in 1925 and was a newspaper woman and film writer during the era of the "Talkies."
Fifty-year-old William Beebe married then 24-year-old Elswyth Thane Ricker Sept. 22, 1927. They were married on Harrison Williams' yacht, "Warrior" off Oyster Bay. Guests included Professor and Mrs. Henry Osborn, Col. and Mrs. Anthony R. Kuser and Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, Sr.
Not that this revelation changes anything, certainly not my perspective on the story line, or that the writing still takes my breath away. There is something kinetic about the way the words pull the reader in, the often comical portrayal of the Aunt, and the very frail, but strong-willed Sabrina, and then of course, Hilary. The only way to explain the mystical powers of Tryst is to share one of the reviews I lifted from Amazon.com:
I remembered this book from my teenage years, and it has "haunted" me ever since. It is a love story which explains the inevitability of union when two souls are aligned. Brought to a quiet English country house by her professor father and [maiden] aunt, our shy, bookish heroine is quite content to be tucked away in the hinterlands. She has no suspicion that her life will be forever changed, or rational explanation for why she is so irresistibly drawn to the locked room at the top of the stairs. On the other hand, our hero only knows that he must follow his unreasoning desire to get home, and is all the more determined to do so after the drama and strain in the Asian desert, his most recent completion of what the high commissioner always called the "almost impossible." Death, someone explained, only ends a life; it does not end a relationship. In "Tryst," it begins one.
What makes me curious is why Elswyth Thane wrote this novel. What unfulfilled longing propelled the story to its fatal ending? And then there is the unattainable ghost-figure of Hilary, what was his role? Was there an illicit lover that Thane was seeing; or, an unrequited love? Considering the timing of the story, set in 1939, WWII looming in Europe, death became the encompassing theme of reality where love afforded Thane an idealistic view of life after death. There is a certain amount of reassurance to believing in life after death and perhaps it explains why it is still one of the more popular themes of movies and literature: e.g., "Ghost" (1990), "What Dreams May Come," (1998), "A Ghost Story" (2017) but do any of us really believe in soul mates? I don't pretend to have a pat answer or even a comforting theory, so I will leave that question struggling, openly on the table.
Of all the books I've ever read, this one has stayed with me interminably. I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing, or hopeless. I don't consider myself sentimental or romantic. Then again I can't see what one gains by being cynical and jaded either. Bitter people make for unpleasant company. Just sayin'. Maybe when I put away childish things I cut loose from those emotional ties as a convenience; and then again, maybe, deep down inside I'm still sentimental, still secretly yearning to meet the one who'll make me feel "sick" as this book once did. I encourage you to pick up a copy, read Tryst and allow yourself to be swept away.
UPDATE: You can read a copy of Tryst for free on this site
https://archive.org/details/Tryst_201...
On a final note, in an early style of blog entry, October 1998, under the title, "Quiet" Liralen, whoever she is, wrote:
While waiting on getting hungry enough for dinner, I read. My shipment from Amazon had arrived and in it was a copy of Tryst. It's a book I read when I was a teenager. [...]
Of all the books I've ever read, this one has stayed with me for two decades. Though I've forgotten nearly everything from either high school I attended, this one detail stayed with me, the one title, and the one story. I don't really know why. It's a very teen girl kind of story. Romantic, in a very, very, very odd way, it's the epitome of lost loves, as the guy's dead before she even gets there. They've missed, completely, totally, and are doing their best, anyway, him to support her, her to love him.
Anyway, I got it, and I read bits and pieces last night, and it had all the overtones I'd remembered, from before, all the implied background information, all the things that come out, all the lovely tension between the unseen ghost and the sensative [sic] girl with the differences with the entire world. So, now I have the story that haunted me, and it haunts me still.
http://www.flick.com/~liralen/journal...
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