g for you," said Netty,
caressing him, and smoothing his tumbled hair. "Nor for him either. I
wouldn't mind the rent he pays you. I'd order him out. It's bad money.
There's blood on it."

She had grown pale, and her voice quivered. The phantom glided over to
them, and laid its spectral hand upon her forehead. The shadowy eyes
looked from under the misty hair into the doctor's face, and the pale
lips moved as if speaking the words heard only in the silence of his
heart--"hear her, hear her!"

"I must think of it," resumed Dr. Renton, coldly. "I'm resolved, at all
events, to warn him that if anything of this kind occurs again, he must
quit at once. I dislike to lose a profitable tenant; for no other
business would bring me the sum his does. Hang it, everybody does the
best he can with his property--why shouldn't I?"

The ghost, standing near them, drooped its head again on its breast, and
crossed its arms. Netty was silent. Dr. Renton continued, petulantly:

"A precious set of people I manage to get into my premises. There's a
woman hires a couple of rooms for a dwelling, overhead, in that same
building, and for three months I haven't got a cent from her. I know
these people's tricks. Her month's notice expires to-morrow, and out she
goes."

"Poor creature!" sighed Netty.

He knit his brow, and beat the carpet with his foot, in vexation.

"Perhaps she can't pay you, pa," trembled the sweet, silvery voice. "You
wouldn't turn her out in this cold winter, when she can't pay you--would
you, pa?"

"Why don't she get another house, and swindle some one else?" he
replied, testily; "there's plenty of rooms to let."

"Perhaps she can't find one, pa," answered Netty.

"Humbug!" retorted her father; "I know better."

"Pa, dear, if I were you, I'd turn out that rumseller, and let the poor
woman stay a little longer; just a little, pa."

"Shan't do it. Hah! that would be scattering money out of both pockets.
Shan't do it. Out she shall go; and as for him--well, he'd better turn
over a new leaf. There, let us leave the subject, darling. It vexes me.
How did we contrive to get into this train. Bah!"

He drew her closer to him, and kissed her forehead. She sat quietly,
with her head on his shoulder, thinking very gravely.

"I feel queerly to-day, little Netty," he began, after a short pause.
"My nerves are all high-strung with the turn matters have taken."

"How is it, papa? The headache?" she answered.

"Y-e-s--n-o--