The White Lady

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I'm absolutely fascinated by ghosts and the supernatural and have been for about 50 years. I'm 58 now and I'm still not entirely sure if they exist but my interest began back in the 1960's when I was a child. I had a great aunt who was down to earth but quite a character. She was born in Victorian London and moved to my home county of Norfolk UK when she found employment as a children's nanny. She smoked like a chimney for the majority of her 104 years and always had a tot of whisky in her morning coffee and a bottle of Guinness every night. I used to love visiting her and loved to hear stories of her life but one story in particular sticks in my mind - a very spooky one.. Auntie Nell worked at Catton Hall which is just a couple of miles up the road from where I live now. On one particularly hot day she was given the pony and trap to take the children out for a picnic. She got the kitchen staff to pack up some sandwiches and lemonade and they set off up the road. A mile or so along the road she decided to turn down a track so the children could have their picnic in a wheat field which had recently been harvested. She could see there were haystacks where the horse and the children could get out of the sun. She hadn't gone far down the track when the pony stopped in its tracks and wouldn't walk forward however hard my aunt tried to urge him on. My aunt looked to the left and saw a low mist on the field and it was drifting in their direction. The mist drifted across the track in front of them and then disappeared over the field to the right. Once the mist had cleared the pony trotted on and the children were able to have their picnic. When my aunt returned to the hall, she told the kitchen staff what had happened and one of them told her that it must have been the ghost of the white woman who'd arranged to meet her lover along the track as they were going to run away together. Apparently he hadn't turned up. Maybe he'd changed his mind; maybe he'd got held up or maybe the woman's husband had found out and got rid of him. Nobody seemed to know but it seems that the woman committed suicide and returned to the lane from time to time looking for her sweetheart. The land has now been built on but the roadway running through is now called White Woman Lane. I am tending to believe the story as my aunt wasn't the sort of person to make up tales but maybe there was another more logical reason why the pony stopped and why there was a low mist on such a hot, clear sunny day. Suggestions on a postcard please!!???