d in the old church documents
of his grave. I should think it was much more likely that his followers
were allowed to carry him to his own estate near Appleford, and bury him
in the church there. The story runs that his ghost haunts Haversleigh
Tower and walks up the belfry stairs, but of course that's nothing but
superstition and nonsense."

"Don't you believe in ghosts?" asked Cicely, who was sometimes a little
afraid of the dark passages at the Manor.

"No: when people are dead, I think if they were good they are either
resting until the resurrection, or have something so much better and
nobler to do in another world that they could not revisit this, any more
than a butterfly could turn again into a chrysalis; and if they were
bad, I am sure they would not be allowed to come back simply to terrify
the living."

"Quite right," agreed Mildred. "In most of the stories one reads about
ghosts, they never return for any useful purpose, only to make silly
people run and scream."

"There was one thing that didn't seem perfectly clear in the story,"
said Lindsay. "Was it really Roger who came to the Manor disguised as an
old pedlar?"

"Evidently it was. He couldn't trust anyone else to give the letter to
Catharine, and he wanted to see for himself how Sir Mervyn was prepared
to defend the Manor. There is still part of a ruin left of the old
Franciscan Convent near Covebury, where Catharine took sanctuary. It's
not much though--only a few pillars and a tumble-down wall."

"Why didn't she go to the Convent of St. Agatha at Torton? It was so
much nearer to ride."

"Because the nuns there wished to persuade her to take the veil, and she
wanted to marry Roger."

"Were they very angry with her?"

"How can I tell, Cicely? You must ask the writer of the romance; he has
a better imagination than I have. I wonder if Miss Russell has come back
yet? I'm going indoors to see. By the by, I want to ask a favour. I
practise the organ every Wednesday evening at the church, and to-night
Judson, the old clerk, will be too busy to blow for me as usual. Would
anybody be charitable enough to volunteer? And would Miss Russell allow
it, do you think?"

"I expect Miss Russell wouldn't mind," said Mildred. "I'd go with
pleasure if I could, but I have an hour's practising to do myself
to-night, as well as preparation, and so have Irene and Mary."

"Oh, Monica, could we blow the organ?" cried Lindsay. "Cicely and I have
both finished our