trial. Every night, so surely as the
clock tolled out the hour of twelve, a rush of feet was heard along
the passage--a window looking into the court was thrown open--a
piercing scream from a woman's voice rang through the building--and
those who were bold enough to look out averred that they beheld a
white figure leap wildly into the air and disappear. Some even went so
far as to affirm that drops of blood, freshly sprinkled, were found
every morning on the pavement of the court. But no one ever doubted
the Dangerfield ghost to be the nightly apparition of Lucy, Lady
Horsingham. At length, in my grandfather's time, certain boards being
lifted to admit of fresh repairs in the accursed corridor, the
silver-mounted guard of a rapier, the stock and barrel of a pistol,
with a shred of lace, on which the letter "L" was yet visible, were
discovered by the workmen. They are in existence still. Whatever other
remains accompanied them turned to dust immediately on exposure to the
air. That dust was, however, religiously collected and buried in a
mausoleum appropriated to the Horsinghams. Since then the ghost has
been less troublesome; but most of the family have seen or heard it at
least once in their lives. I confess that if ever I lie awake at
Dangerfield till the clock strikes twelve I invariably stop my ears
and bury my head under the bedclothes for at least a quarter of an
hour. By these means I have hitherto avoided any personal acquaintance
with the spectre; but nothing on earth would induce me to walk down
that corridor at midnight and risk a private interview with the
Dangerfield ghost!

CHAPTER X.

As for spending a whole morning in the drawing-room with the ladies it
is what I cannot and will not submit to. Working and scandal, scandal
and working, from half-past ten till two is more than I can stand, so
the very first morning I was at Dangerfield I resolved to break the
chain at once, and do as I always meant to do for the future.
Accordingly, immediately after breakfast I popped my bonnet on--the
lavender one, that had done a good deal of London work, but was still
quite good enough for the country--and started off for a walk by
myself, confiding my intentions to no one; as I well knew if I did I
should have Aunt Deborah's "Kate, _pray_ don't overheat yourself, my
dear. Do wrap yourself up, and take care not to catch cold;" and Lady
Horsingham's sarcastic smile, and "In _my_ time, Miss Coventry, young
la