“Is that Rosslyn?” friends ask referring to the portrait of a lady hanging above the stairwell landing. Sometimes I shrug mysteriously. “Hard to be certain,” I’ve said. Or, “What’s your guess?” The truth is, the lady in the stairwell is one of Susan’s distant relatives. We’ve lost track of exactly who.
But hanging so centrally, as she does, visible from the entrance foyer and the sitting area on the second floor, presiding over all passersby — properly, prominently, and with an air of erudition — it’s an inevitable assumption.
To be sure, this is a real portrait of a real woman buried somewhere in Susan’s backstory. But the narrative has grown thin, and instead we inherited this artifact when Susan‘s mother remarried some years ago. Apparently, once upon a time Susan’s sister had been told that she resembled the woman in the portrait. She doesn’t. Not in the least. But apparently the comment, whether sincere or in jest, made an impression upon my sister-in-law. And negative impression. And when it came time to pass on several family portraits, it was clear that this one was coming to us.
And while Rosslyn, the name of our property, might in fact date to a time coinciding with the life of the lady portrayed in the portrait (aka the lady in the stairwell), there’s a little else in common.
But our decision to hang the stern character in such a prominent position did not overlook the lighthearted suggestion. And so, when ask, I’m unable to resist, teasing out the story, just a little more before conceding the truth. 
What do you think?