re from London after doing something he shouldn't--I really forget
what. The sheriff's officers were advancing on the house. Their approach
displeased him, and he put an end to himself at the head of the little
staircase leading from the tapestry-room down to my sitting-room. Why
did he choose the _staircase_?" said Mrs. Boyce with light
reflectiveness.

"It won't do," said Marcella, shaking her head. "I know the Boyce they
mean. He was a ruffian, but he shot himself in London; and, any way, he
was dead long before that staircase was built."

"Dear me, how well up you are!" said her mother. "Suppose you give a
little lecture on the family in the servants' hall. Though I never knew
a ghost yet that was undone by dates."

There was a satiric detachment in her tone which contrasted sharply with
Marcella's amused but sympathetic interest. _Detachment_ was perhaps the
characteristic note of Mrs. Boyce's manner,--a curious separateness, as
it were, from all the things and human beings immediately about her.

Marcella pondered.

"I shall ask Mr. Harden about the stories," she said presently. "He will
have heard them in the village. I am going to the church this morning."

Her mother looked at her--a look of quiet examination--and smiled. The
Lady Bountiful airs that Marcella had already assumed during the six
weeks she had been in the house entertained Mrs. Boyce exceedingly.

"Harden!" said Mr. Boyce, catching the name. "I wish that man would
leave me alone. What have I got to do with a water-supply for the
village? It will be as much as ever I can manage to keep a water-tight
roof over our heads during the winter after the way in which Robert has
behaved."

Marcella's cheek flushed.

"The village water-supply is a _disgrace_," she said with low emphasis.
"I never saw such a crew of unhealthy, wretched-looking children in my
life as swarm about those cottages. We take the rent, and we ought to
look after them. I believe you could be _forced_ to do something,
papa--if the local authority were of any use."

She looked at him defiantly.

"Nonsense," said Mr. Boyce testily. "They got along in your Uncle
Robert's days, and they can get along now. Charity, indeed! Why, the
state of this house and the pinch for money altogether is enough, I
should think, to take a man's mind. Don't you go talking to Mr. Harden
in the way you do, Marcella. I don't like it, and I won't have it. You
have the interests of your family and yo