Time was dragging, in the drawing-room.

Cora was there, not from choice, but because Madeline had so ordered
it, and the aggrieved lady was not at all inclined to conversation.

Miss Arthur, who was hoping for a _tete-a-tete_ with her lover, was
alarmingly glum. She had accepted, in good faith, his statement that
he had received a note from the clergyman, saying that he had been
suddenly called away and would be absent some days, but she did not
quite understand why another would not do as well. Somehow, all that
day, she had found no opportunity for hinting to her lover that a
Unitarian minister lived quite near.

Finding the ladies so little disposed to be entertained, the two men
retired within themselves, each after his own peculiar fashion.

Lucian Davlin lounged, in his favorite manner, in a big arm chair, and
absorbed himself in the mazes of "_Lalla Rookh_."

Percy, seated sidewise on a sofa directly opposite a large mirror,
gazed languidly at his own reflected image, and furtively at the two
women opposite, stroking his handsome blonde whiskers the while.

At last Miss Arthur broke the silence by saying, with a side glance
toward Cora: "There is one thing that I have not yet asked to be
enlightened about. Perhaps you could explain the mystery, Mrs. Arthur?
I mean the appearance of Madeline at my bedside not long ago--or her
ghost."

Cora uttered a disagreeable laugh, and then replied: "How should I be
able to explain? I am not the keeper of Miss Payne, or 'her ghost.'"

"Probably not; however, you are so friendly, so sisterly, I might say,
that I thought perhaps--"

"You thought perhaps my step-mamma was in the secret?" said the voice
of a new comer.

All eyes were turned toward the library, where Madeline Payne stood,
clad in a walking dress, and looking fairly radiant with suppressed
excitement.

"You misjudge my step-mamma, Aunt Ellen." As she speaks, Madeline
advances toward the silent group, leaving the library door ajar. "I
will explain that singular phenomenon. I intend to clear up all the
mysteries to-night--here--now. First, then, about the ghost: It was I,
Miss Arthur, Madeline Payne, in the flesh."

Lucian Davlin's book lies on his knee neglected now.

Edward Percy's face has lost its look of languor.

Cora is flushing red and then paling, while she wonders inwardly if
her time has come; if she is to be exposed to a last humiliation.

"We will settle another point," continues Mad