Perfect Quiet.

Evening Post, Volume LXXX, Issue 62, 10 September 1910, Page 10

Perfect Quiet.

By ROSALINE MASSON.

My old friend Mrs. Gregorson is a i "Koman who always has some special ' social fad on hand. So, when she was ordered perfect quiet by her doctor, and , went to seek it in the country at mid- 1 winter, and at once asked a small housepartiy to cheer her solitude, I confess I wondered what new excitement I shoidd J , find, absorbing her. "Oh, Canon Rudge!" she exclaimed, as >ye sat alone by the hall fire, with a tea«table between us, on my first ar» rival ; "I have such an interesting man coming to-night! I quite long to know your opinion of him ! You know I defer to your judgment in everything." "Except in one thing, my friend," I answered her sadly. For Mrs. Gregoreori, who is enjoying an afHuent widowhood,- keeps putting me off, and at my timevof life that is unkind. "Yoii mas* not begin by being prejudiced, because he combines it all with absolutely orthodox views." "I 'dare say: they usually do. But you have not told me what it all is." "It all?" she repeated in a puzzled tone. 'TTes — the 'it all' that you say he combines with orthodoxy." "Oh, 1 see., Well, his wonderful powers, you know ! His^ — his — his — his psychical force— his — his — ihis — really, I forget the terms, they are such long words ; but he is marvellous ! The experiences he has had, the things he is able to do ! Marvellous ! Marvellous, .Canon Rudge!" "Turns tables and makes spirits rap, and that sort of thing! Oh, just the ideal man for Christmas in. the country." My kbstess paused, with a lump of sugar poised in the sugar tongs she held. I watched it anxiously, for I do not take sugar. "You. most not make fun of Mr. Metcalfe," sho told- me.. "He is not a, professional. He is very much in earnest, on the, contrary. He approaches psychical phenomena in a purely scientific spirit, and his 'experiences' have all been in very good houses — he comes here today from the Tedsdales, for example. And he does not make the spirits rap, hennakes" — here she lowered her voice and the- sugar-tongs at the' same moment — "h© makes- them appear !". J ' "IndeeuJ! I do not think that, in my professional capacity, I can countenance such proceedings." Mrs. Gregojfscai appeared - troubled. She ias the greatest ■respect for me in my professional capacity, which respect. I try- hard to fan into something warmer towards me. in. my personal capacity. " It, regjnres a. .special cerebral influence to see. — ;a sympathetic • stream — no, a psychic current-r-of- soj&ething." She smoottid the- lace on- her hair, that was co fast' turning.-, a most becoming grey, and "tße'v'ctiamdnd pin that held. the lace, sparkkd'jin-'the fireKght. '"He -will explain,- it-"all- to you himself most beautifully," sho faltered, still looking distressed by xay clerical disapprobation. And then th» memory of the* beauty of his explanations seemed to revive her. She nodded a* the fire, and apparently forgot jone. "It is a joy to hear him!" $h& announced^ "and he can mesmerise you, ' or go into a hypnotic trance himseli! And' really- to hear him talk of th'e f jjsychic./world' 'above and beyond and aJ,I around -bur own- * ewrjday world is % little creepy." ' -."> " ''WHI you give me another cup of tea, my dear friend — with no svgar — and let usftalk of' other things besides Mr. Metcaffe and the psychic world, for I have noj> seen you for a. fortnight, and .1 have a great deal to tell yoiu The gallery is to como down — that is . finally settled ; the organist is going to b© married ; and we made ninety-seven pounds five and eightpence by the sale of work, and We" are going to have another jumble to make up the amount; and your protege, old- Scott, won't have, his grandchild christened." But it wa& only staving off the evil day, -for half an. hour- later several people., arrived, and the. guests already" in the "house dropped' in from various pursuits, and we. all gathered round the tea-table and we.se told about Mr. Ebenezer Metcalfe whilst tea was being made for the new-comers. Before dinner the man himself! arrived. He was a^long, thin man, wifth no shoulders and blanched hair, almost like a ghost himself; and he was welcomed with empressement by our hosiWss, and everyone introduced to him, ■ as , though he had been a distinguished licoi. . The other guests comprised a gouty old military veteran, General Jones, whom. I had long susp&cted of aspiring to be my, rival, and a group of young people.' That charming little maid, Laura 1 &eigh-, 'waa- oiie off them,, with her serious airs and her fascinating lisp and her halo of gold hair. Then there was a Miss Ford : I coujd not bring myself to like her. She said sharp, clever things, and •seemed to try to" make people feel ill at ease, which is to my old-fashioned mind ill-bred, however amusingly it is done.- Then there was a young Captain Bright, of the" Royal Artillery, and lieutenant Stuart of the Black Watch, Mrs. Gregor&on's favourite nephew ; and lastly there was a nice boy — an extremely nice boy — whom everyone called Bumpo, who is Mrs. Gregorson's nephew too, but iibt a Stuart — his surname must bo Gtegorson, I think ; but we never used itj so that is immaterial. Young Stuart was in a kilt ; extremely becoming dress, a 'kilt. He was a tall, well set up young fellow, without much brains, 1 should fancy; but they are at a discount nowadays. He had what is better, and not so common — plenty of quiet good sense and excellent manners. I saw at a glance^ — his glance, not mine— that he was very miuch in love with my dear little friend, Laura Leigh. So was the artilleryman. But I came to the conclusion I would f urtner young Stuart's suit all that lay in my power, for the artilleryman's whole hSart lay in his boots, of which he owned about five dozen pairs. He always ldfft his r6om door wide open that we might see the imposing array. Now, when a man makes an idol of his boots before marriage, one never knows what may happen after. So I decided in favour of my hostess's nephew. V£ut all this tima lam forgetting Mr. Bbenezer Metcalfe. . I once read De Quincey's "Murder as One of the Fine Arts." The description of the murderer Williams has ever since lingered in my memory — lemon-coloured hair and a wlite face and glaaed eyes were, I think, iiiclnded in the picture as he stood Tat ttfe foot oJ his victim's bed and mesmerised him into waking. Ebenezer Meteit+e's appearance revived my memory of Bo Quincey's Williams. • '„, >*t same evening, tho psychical hero »+Y n r.ll about his wonderful powers. ■*"ff' spared us nothing. He had, it api- x\\ kr.o.vn this house, Firlands, >r"c"V.'.an he lv.i'l known Mrs. Gregor--oi- >.io wr.s a sort of major-domo ot ;i< ih\ r.'jooka ir. the county. _ 1 sus a lio owed his introduction to ?!D. iav 3ixicty to the ghosts. One can IV^.v decline to know a man who is iirlr.;',.'.. v.ith one's great-great-grand.->St rv ■ ' < m 'ii.ncls. v- e wers given to understand, 8V.::, nut vich apparitions, but it was by h'u moiiti- singular in this respect. At fi : i f'ji-'K.vil I*'t->1 ton's, where he had stay : CU ;ii Oaolci, thcie'was an iippr worn

in which an old man counted his money and the appetising chink could distinctly b heard, till it was lost in a bloodcurdling yell which signified that an other ghost had entered and murdered him in the same unspeakably brutal fashion that had actually been employed by Sir Rufus Poltbn's valet early in the seventeenth century. The murderei could be seen, by a good medium, in outline; but his victim was only visible tc those of the Polton blood. In a passage at dear Lady Tedsdale's a lady sat crooning over a headless infant. "Can the kid be seen?" asked Captain Blight. "I believe not." "Then how do they know it is headless?" "Perhaps because it doesn't yell," suggested young Staart, amiably, as Metcalfe paused in evident perplexity. "Do you say that in this very house," began General Jones in a disturbed voice, "you have yourself seen — " "Never seen." "Heard, then — " "Never heaid." "Then what tho dick— I mean, what have you — " "I have felt." "Eh?" "Yes, felt. Felt sensations — unex. plained, undefined, untranslatable— merely vague, uneasy, ever present sensations — " The Generals eyes started out of his fiery face. "Gad, sir!" he ejaculated. "These sensations," continued Metcalfe, with obstinate calm, "usually begin about midnight. The sleeper wakes suddenly with an uneasy feeling, a sense of actual oppression — " "I know!" pwfc in Bumpo, eagerly. "I've felt 'em! Horrid, ain't they? Ii you suffer in that way you shouldn't have taken that foie gras stuff on the top of lobster and mince pies and — " "Bumpo r" cried Mrs. Gregorson in scandalised reproval. "Saw him do it, Aunt!" replied thai very nice boy. "Ith there any gotht in thith houth?' lispejpl little Laura Leigh, with an anxious smila. Mr. MetcaKe paused. "In this house, he said impressively, " early last century, a bride, on the eve of her marriage day, occupied the room to the east oi the tower, overlooking the low stable portion that is now utilised as the bil Hard room," . . . Laura turned pale. "That ith mj room !" she cried. "It was said that in the morning she was greatly agitated, and expressed s desire that the weddifcg ceremony should be postponed until an enquiry had beer made into tho past of her betrothed, foi ghe had bad a warning in a dream. Th« unfortunate young lady was over-ruled — coerced into • the marriage. She donned her bridal robes and was led tc the church 'by her stern and relentless . father,' and — " . "Yes?" we all cried. Again Mr. Ebenezer Metcalfe passec his fingers through his hair, and kepi his- audience waiting. "At the altar steps a mulatto womar appeared with a dagger in her hand — " "Laura, love," said Mrs. Gregorson rising somewhat suddenly, "I am sur< you must be tired after your journey Mr. MetcaMe's talk is so deeply interest ing that we are forgetting how late i1 is." - But, in the smoking-room after w< heard why ,the mulatto woman, pooi soul, shows her dark face and" her gleam , jug dagger at the east .window of th( J tower whenever -a bride, meditates al liance with one who is unworthy. "Tho old negress will catch a chill i she comes sneaking round the place to night,"' said- Captain Blight, going t< the window and pulling up the blind ■ *' for it is 3nowing hard." Ebenezer Metcalfe followed ' him, anc looked dreamily at the patch of grounc seen in the light from the window, ant now being softly covered with snow flakes. Then he raised his eyes to th< darkness beyond, and they becaim fixed. "Do you see it?" ho asked Captaii Blight softly. "See it? See what?" "A monk, reading his missal." "Not I!" "What rubbish ! " muttered younj Stuart at my side. He had been look ing very irritable ever since the accoun of the haunting of Laura Leigh's roon had sent the poor child to bed distinctl; nervous. Ebenezer Metcalfe, whose ears wer apparently as well trained as his eyes heard young Stuart's ejaculation. H glanced across at him, and his expres sion became snaky. But Stuart, al unconscious, had taken a copy of "Pick me-up" off the table, and was idly turn ing its leaves. Next day the talk was all of spooks Mr. Ebenezer Metcalfe nodded am smiled in an encouraging way, as thoug' all spirits were his property. As h nibbled his toast and marmalade a breakfast he looked so like a ghost him self that it ocurred to me he formed missing link between this world and th spook world, spending his nights i spiritual converse, and condescending t spend his days with corporal nonentities Nevertheless, young Blight, Stuari and I all came separately and md( pendently to the conclusion that nc only was the man a sham, but that h was shamming in order to win entranc into worthy houses where he would nc otherwise have been tolerated. "He really does stay at good houses, said Captain Blight. "Yes, he lets you know it," Stuai added. "He draged in several names ratheunnecessarily," put in General Jones. "Yes, I noticed that too," I agveec " ' all honourable men.' " I took it upon myself to gently hii this view to Mrs. Gregorson, when persuaded her to show me the conse vatory after breakfast. But I think thi the fact that three of her servants ha notified their desire to leave imm diately, on account of haying see ghosts, did more to rouse her ire again the ghost contractor than did my sa casms. She sent me down to speak 1 the maids. "Appeal to their religioi feelings," she implored me ; "explain 1 the poor misguided young women, ho wrong and how foolish superstition i and how irreconcilable with their pr fessions of orthodoxy." .! My dear, old -friend makes stran( uses of me, but I went. When I r turned she was no longer in the conse vatory — she seldom rewards me f> services rendered — she was showing th old, fool Jones something in the librar Miss Ford and young Stuart were stan ing together by the stone fountain, sat down with a book in an arm-cha just within the doorway. Perhaps thi did not see me. "Let me propose bridge or somethii to-night," young Stuart was sayin "Anything to prevent that pale c< frightening everyone with his idiot talk." '•He does not succeed in frightenii me," Miss Ford responded, with a s perior air. Lieutenant Stuart snipped a flower < a pot near him, and looked as if he d not care in the very least whether Mi Ford felt alarm or not. Miss Ford fix' her eyes on the flower he was twiddlin "Have you brought any songs?" s asked him. "We might propose mus you know,"

"Brought my songs? — no, I never have any written music." "I think I could remember the accompaniments of some you used to sing," she said softly, and she held out her hand for the flower, which he was beginning to shred into pieces. "The songs 1 used to sing?" he asked, giving her the flower, half unconsciously, as it semed to me. " — At Muirdale, last spring. Do you remember we used to sing a duet together?" She gave a little nervous laugh. "2\o, I don't," lie said shortly. "Oh, yes" you do ! — It was "Love in thine eyes.' " "Don't remember in the least." He turned to lead the way out. It was very rude — grossly rude — and young Stuart is not usually rude ; but I liked him for it, though I don't think Ford liked him for it ! She came towards me with ,a look in her eyes that reminded mo instantly of the look I had seen Kbenezer Metcalfe give young Stuart the night before when he hart muttered "Rubbish," and had been overheard. Bless me ! — Stuart had two enemies in the house 1 Miss Ford sat down by me and chatted, so I had perforce to close my book. She talked about people — not pleasantly, till I was quite glad when she left me, and I was free to go out of doors into the keen winter air, and seek little Laura Leigh, with whom I had as yet had no tal,k. But I found that young Stuart had forestalled me — they were just starting for a walk together, he carrying an extra fur cloak for her, and both their faces looking very happy. My hostess came out and joined me as I stood watching them across the park, leaving footprints in the snow behind them. "Dear young things I" murmured Mrs. Gregorson, her eyes full of tender kindness. "Winter can be heppy as well as Spring, ''dear lady," I answered her, poetically, waving my hand at the glittering snow. But you can never tell how a woman urill take things. "Winter, Canon Rudge!" she exclaimed, turning indignant eyes on me, "how very ungallant!" I thought it best to look quite innocent and guiltless. "It is winter," I said. "Oh, — I thought you meant — " "You thought I meant — ?" "Well, you usually do mean, don't you?" "Mean what, my friend?" "Oh, nothing!" crossly. "No, there you err. I never mean nothing," I said gently, "What I mean is — " "Well— l must go indoors \o a fire. One cannot stand about in melting snow at my age." •'JSor at mine. Ah, dear lady — best friend — let me take you indoors to warmth and shelter, and let us sit by , the fire together, you and I, in the winter of our days, and talk of how I can devote to my life to — " Miss Ford and General Jones joined us suddenly. Miss Ford let her eyes dwell with curiosity on tho track of big boot-prints and little boot-prints that showed over the drive and right across , the park. "Who has gone out?" she asked. "Miss Leigh and Reginald Stuart," I told her, savagely. Did she, and did the poor gouty General, think they were , always welcome? "Oh !" she said, and sneered. "I hope he won't get his feet wet and - lose his voice," I added, as she turned to follow Mrs. Gregorson indoors. i "That's what I -call a nippy besom," ■ remarked General Jones, offering me a cigar. i Apparently young Stuart did nou lose his voice ; but he devoted it, all that evening and for several days after { to ' whispering soft nothings to sweet little '. Laura. He certainly never sang "Love , in thine eyes" with Miss Ford. And — perhaps in consequence — love did not dwell in Miss Ford's handsome orbs. She seemed not to notice the very evident flirtation, except by an occasional sneer ; but she became much interested in psychical soienco, and spent hours pac- , ing up and down the hall with Ebenezer , Metcalfe, discussing mesmerism, second sight, telepathic communications, pnreL monitory dreams, apparitions, ani all kinds of uncanny subjects. One morning Bumpo appeared at breakfast very sleepy and very late, and Ebenezer also looked flabby. The latter ; explained that he had had. an "experi- ■ ence" the previous night. ; "There was a constant knocking at l my door between the hours of twelve and r one," he said, "and sounds suggestive of kicking on the panels, accompanied by 3 groans, as of someone in anguish. These , indications of a supernatural preaerace are i so common to me," he added, passing his - hand wearily across his brow, "that I 1 took no steps to ascertain their origin. - But presently a new feature waß introduced. The handle was turned and the door slowly opened." We were becoming interested. 1 "And the head of a very large animal i thrust itself through the aperture." » "Oh! terrible! terrible!" cried Mrs. k Gregorson. "And th© forepaws. Jhey waved. 1 Bumpo got up suddenly, and was a 9 long time helping himself to something 1 at the Bideboard. 0 "Had it horns and a tail?" asked Cap- • tain Blight. , , "It certainly had horns," replied the - medium. , t 'And what became of it? » "I got up and approached it — c "Oh, how bTave of you!" exclaimed t Miss Ford. Jibenezer Metcalfe smiled deprecatang- " ly. "Fear is not my feeling," he said, "interest— interest ! I rose^ and, apt proaching the vision, was about, to — about to — " r -Hit it!" put in the General. "Ah, no — to question it !" [ > "But cows can't speak," said Mrs. Gregorson. t "The question is — was it a cow? ' 1 Ebenezer answered. "What do you think it was?" -t He shook his head. "As I approach d ed, it vanished. I opened my door, but > the passage was empty." n Bumpo stuffed the soft inside of a ifc breakfast roH into his mouth and grew ■'" excessively red in the face, and his aunt 0 questioned me afterwards as to which of ls the public schools I considered had the 0 best influence on a boy's manners. IV Later in the day Old General Jones 3>3 > and I found a large chalk drawing, 3 " really admirably executed, if with some disregard of perspective, representing a i 6i 6 four-legged animal of a cow-like species 5 " looking round a door at a man cowerl>" ing under the bed-clothes, with only a, )r tassled night-cap and two agonised eyes l " protruding. Underneath was the lei' gend, "How Metcalfe Met-a-calf." Z That afternoon when 1 met Bumpo in ,\ the dusk hurrying across the stable 11 jjard with a large skin over his arm, I '•T 'glanced at it suspiciously. There was a head pendent to that skin, and horns [ °i attached to the head. When I learnt from my hostess 1 that j c her nephew, Reginald Stuart, had tried his fate and been accepted, the news ,„ pleased but hardly surprised me. j £ "There is, of course, no engagement yet," his aunt added, "till they can iff hear from Laura's father in India — but id I don't think ho will withhold his conss sent : Reggie is a dear good boy." ■d In spite of our discretion I think it. news of the engagement leaked out. Ie Certainly Laura and young Stuart lookc, Pd ridiculously happy, and so did our hostess. Anyway the artillery man.

mentioned that his lea^e was up, and went away, and Miss Ford grew extremely bitter in both speech and visage. She also greatly affected the society of Ebenezer Metcalfe, and they lowored their voices whenever anyone came near. "'There's some devilry brewing, sir," Bumpo warned me one night. Next morning when I came downstairs it was to find everything was in confusion — Laura Leigh, Mrs. Gfcregorson told us at breakfast, was ill, — oh, only a bad night and a headache. But Mrs. Gregorson has no faculty of deception ■' she shook her head mournfully when she caught my eye; and finally she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes and left the room. Soon afterwards a servant came up to me with a message that Mrs. Gregor son would like to see me in the waiting room. •'Oh, my friend ! Why, why did you let me take this terrible house!" were her first words, as she looked at me with "tearful reproach over her pocket handkerchief. "I, dear friend? I let you?" "You ought to have known — I trust to you for guidance. And that awful man !" "What has he done?" I had no doubt as- to whom she meant. "Oh nothing — but it all began by his telling us." I had a sudden inspiration. "Was Laura. Leigh frightened by a ghost?" I asked. "Oh, terribly, terribly — poor darling child !" I ventured to tako her htuid and pab it, as I had seen her do to others, and gradually I gleaaied Hid slory. Robbed of all the picturesque de-tails and strange deductions with which it u(iis nurrated to me. it consisted in tho fact that a* black face had looked in at Laura's window in the dark of early morning, a dagger had been brandished, and a hollow voice had warned her to have nothing to do witJi Lieutenant Reginald Stuart. "And do you mean to say that the child — that sensible, pious, good little child, intends to act on it?" "One moment she says she loves him, and will believe nothing against him, and the next moment sh© buries her head in her pillow, and cries out about the olack face and the dagger. She says her father must come home or she j will go out to him — and — *' here my old friend wept afresh. "If you saw her ! She is in high fever, mumbling and crying and muttering. She won't be lei t alone a moment, though we have moved her into another room. My old j housekeeper is with her just now." I ground my teeth. "They might | have killed her !" I cried. "They? — there was only one negress." "And who held the ladder?" I asked, sternly. "The ladder?" "My dear lady, if I were not a clergyman I would bet you ten to one that your marvellous and greatly gifted friend Ebenezer Metcalfe held the ladder." "For the ghost?" "The ghost!— Pooh! For— but I would like to be sure before I mention names. Give me leave to gather evidence while you go and comfort little Laura. I think I may promise you I wiJl unearth the conspiracy before luncheon." "Ah, if you would, my friend !" "What then?— Oh, I suppose, you will want to know whatever I discover?" "Certainly. Not of course from any idle curiosity; but, as the thing has happened in my house, and to my guest — ' ' "Nevertheless I shall tell you nothing." "Canon Rudge !" "Nothing." Mrs. Gregorson suddenly became aware that I was still holding her hand. She . attempted to draw it away. I tightened my grasp. "I will tell you nothing of all this strange matter, unless — " "Yes," she asked with dignity. "Unless I may retain this." I released her hand. She withdrew it. "I — I > have never had terms dictated ' to me," she announced, tremulously, i General Jones limped in, looked at us, muttered an apology and limped again. "How very odd the dear General is at times !" Mrs. Gregorson said, in i some embarrassment. "Ab all times !" I answered heartily. Mts. Gregorson stood up. "I grudge every moment till I am made happy," I answered. "Oh, go uway, Canon Rudge, and put everything right, and then — come back to me, my iriend." I took her hand and kissed it, and went to find Bumpo. "Bumpo," I said, "some time ago Mr. Metcalfe met a calf." Bumpo nodded gravely. "And next day you were possessed of a black bull's 1 hide." Bumpo shot a suspicious glance at me, but I nodded encouragingly, and again he nodded. | "Bumpo," I continued, "last night, a negress looked it at Miss Leigh's window and wav-ed a dagger at her and talked rubbish." Bumpo's eyes opened wide, and so did his mouth. "It wasn't me, sir, — honour bright, it wasn't me !" "I believe you, my boy — in spite of your grammar. But I should like to know who has the black bull's hide this morning. "' "I don't catch on, sir." "You remarked last night that there was some — ahem ! — devilry was the word you used, I think? — brewing. Now if a person is not black by nature, Bumpo, how does that, person become black by art?" "Burnt cork." "I rather think that some persons would employ a cleaner method," I began, thoughtfully, when Bumpo suddenly interrupted me. "You are game for a parson, sir," he exclaimed, and as he spoke, he leapt to his feet and fled down the pa&sage, leaving me to digest his equivocal compliment. In a moment he was, back again, and proudly extending his grubby paw, showed me what proved, when 1 adjusted my eyeglasses and examined it, to be the charred remains of a blacK \elvet mask. "I saw it in the cinders this morning," he explained, breathlessly, ''when L went into her room to commandeer something I wanted.— lt was the paperknile that is shaped like a dagger, and id was gone '." "It is not polite to search ladies 1 i'ooms," I began, severely ; but lie was off like a shot again. This time he was some time gone. When he returned " he was carrying something roiled in a doormat, and he looked about furtively. He dropped his burden at my feet. It proved to be the missing paper-knife, and also a very Jong, narrow pair of pumps. "Soaked through," said Bumpo. "They're Metealfe's — and he wasn't/ out yesterday." I surveyed them distastefully : they certainly were spattered with mud"And her boots were also muddy, for "Hush, Bumpo !" "Oh, it's a];l right— but it's like a girl's mean trk-k to go and frighten another girl." "I suppose a boy never dresses up . a-s a ghost to frighten people ?"-

"Oh, a man — that's different. Sir, you'd have laughed if you'd, seen him hiding under the blankets !" I dismissed liumpo, and went down to the tool-house where tho ladders were kept. "I hope you keep this locked, gardener," I said, "for thesei would be handy things if thieves came." The man looked guilty. "I usually do," he said, "but I'm fair put out today, for I've lost the key. I'm sure I left it in the door yesterday — and when I went back for it at night it was gone. Strange you should have mentioned the matter, sir." "Very strange," I agreed. Then I want to Mrs. Gregorson. She was increduloub. "But the motive?" she cried. "Oh, the motive*!" I said, "motives are kittle cattle. How would pique do?" My dear old friend rises to an occasion splendidly. A sudden light came into her eyes such as- I hope never to kindle there. "I think I will go to Miss Ford," she said. At dinner we were told Miss Leigh was better, and had been brought down to the morning room, also that Miss Ford had a headache and preferred not to dine. Mrs. Gregorson sent a little woodcock and a glass of claret in to Laura in the morning room. She sent it in by her older nephew, there being a scarcity of servants to wait on us, most having departed on account of the ghosts. Young Stuart did not return. "Miss Ford leaves to-morrow morning," I was told, as I had tho honour of lighting my hostess's candle that night. She had avoided a tote-a-tete with me all tho evening. And Miss Ford did leave. Her fiance, Mr. Ebenezer Metcalfo, saw her off. After they were gone we discussed this new engagement. "It's a queer taste," said Bumpo. "I'd rather bo boiled alive. I say, sir," he added, in a whisper to me, "you didn't peach?" I pretended not' to hear. "Tho man was not such a fool as we thought him," growled General Jones. "It is a decided step up the social ladder for him," said Mrs. Gregorson pensively. "I suppose it was in the bond that she should help him. up his ladder," I suggested. "What do you mean?" asked General Jones, ag Bumpo sniggered audibly. "I mean that a man is nerved to tho most difficult feat® if he has a woman's promise to reward his success — is it not so, dear lady?" I turned to Mrs. Gregorson, and she smiled and coloured like a girl. So there will be three marriages in consequence of a certain doctor's prescription of perfect quiet.