This is an odd little story. It was alright, but the very abrupt tonal change halfway through made it seem scattered and unpolished. Basically, an American family buys an old English house, complete with ghost, and proceeds to undermine that ghost at every opportunity. Blood stains are mopped up with the newest in stain removers, the spectral sound of rusty clanking chains is met with an offer of oil, and so forth. It's funny enough, if a little slight, but halfway through it stops being funny and turns into a highly sentimental horror, of the repentant murderer starved to death whose soul is redeemed by the innocent, beautiful daughter of the house type.

It's two very different stories shoved together, and not very well at that.