as _lovely_. Lord
Valmond and Mr. Wertz were lying near, and they said agreeable things,
at least I suppose so, because both of them--Lady Doraine and Mrs.
Smith--looked purry-purry-puss-puss. They asked me why I was so sleepy,
and I said because I had not slept well the last night--that I was
sure the house was haunted. And so they all screamed at me, "Why?" and
so I told them, what was really true, that in the night I heard a noise
of stealthy footsteps, and as I was not frightened I determined to see
what it was, so I got up--Agnes sleeps in the dressing-room, but, of
course, _she_ never wakes--I opened the door and peeped out into the
corridor. There are only two rooms beyond mine towards the end, round
the corner, and it is dimly lit all night. Well, I distinctly saw a
very tall grey figure disappear round the bend of the hall! When I got
thus far every one dropped their books and listened with rapt
attention, and I could see them exchanging looks, so I am sure they
know it is haunted, and were trying to keep it from me. I asked Mrs.
Smith if she had seen or heard anything, because she sleeps in one of
the rooms. She looked perfectly green, but she said she had not heard a
sound, and had slept like a top, and that I must have dreamt it.

Then Lady Doraine and every one talked at once, and Lord Valmond asked
did any one know if the London evening papers had come. But I was not
going to be put off like that, so I just said, "I know you all know it
is haunted and are putting me off because you think I'll be frightened;
but I assure you I am not, and if I hear the noise again I am going to
rush out and see the ghost close."

Then every one looked simply _ahuri_. So I mean to get the ghost story
out of Sir Trevor to-night after dinner--I had not a chance
yesterday--as I am sure it is interesting. Mrs. Smith looked at me as
if she wanted to poison me, and I can't think why specially, can you?

_Twelve p.m._--I asked Sir Trevor if the house is haunted, and he said,
"God bless my soul, no!" and so I told him, and he nearly had a fit; so
I _know_ it is, but I am not a bit frightened.--Your affectionate
daughter, Elizabeth.

Nazeby Hall, _Sunday._

Dearest Mamma,--Agnes and I go to Aunt Mary's by the 10:30 train
to-morrow, and I am not a bit sorry, although I have enjoyed myself,
and now I begin to feel quite at home with every one--at least, some of
them; but such a tiresome thing happened last night. It was like thi