m, before the fireplace. He had sat where he now stood on so many
evenings of winter days whose suns had set with his youth. The barren
hearth was full of ghostly flames which struck a chill into his heart.
There was the room opening to the left, which Mabel and Vi, the little
twin daughters of his former chief, used to occupy. He seemed to hear
the laughter of the children echoing from some far-off paradise of the
past, before the portal of which a stern-browed Fate stood to prevent
his entering. The shutters of the dining-room window had been thrown
open. A memory-ghost prompted him to unfold one of them. On its inner
surface, painted over, he found the heads of the tacks with which he
had nailed the programme of the farewell dance given in honour of his
promotion by his chief. Where were the dancers? Gone like the music to
which their feet had kept time.

His bed had been placed in the room formerly occupied by the children.
This pleased him; the ghosts of Mabel and Vi were more bearable than
the other ghosts. He looked in to see that all he required had been
provided, and then he walked over the premises outside, old
recollections smiting him like whips at every turn. He went into the
stable and touched the ring to which "Bob," an old pony, the joint
property of the two little girls, used to be tied. The tennis-ground
was over-grown with grass--his predecessor's family evidently had not
cared about tennis. He recognised most of the trees in the garden. The
old vine at the side of the house was green and full of unripe grapes.
It was the only thing that had a cheerful look.

Kellson returned to the hotel, and found that several of the
inhabitants of the village had called and left cards. After supper, he
walked up again to the residency, and found the Chief Constable there,
he having come to see whether the arrangements made were satisfactory.
Kellson was much relieved to find he had company. He had dreaded
entering the house alone in the dark. There was an old rustic seat
under the verandah, and on this Kellson and the Chief Constable sat and
talked for half an hour. Then the latter said "Good night" and left.

Kellson remained sitting on the rustic seat, feeling in a better frame
of mind. The Moon rose over the big mountain in front of the house and
distant about five miles. The soft moonlight made the landscape
wonderfully beautiful. The whole mountain was draped in snow-while,
clinging mist, except the very sum