l, buying engravings; that is the only thing I know about him, except
the fact that he married twice; and on this marrying twice hangs our
story. Listen now, and you shall hear. His first wife (she was a Miss
Rhinefels) died, leaving him with an only daughter, Christina Montfort.
The only time the name Christina appears, I believe, in the family
annals. At the time of her mother's death Christina was a woman grown;
a handsome person, to judge from her miniature, and of strong feelings.
She kept house for her father, and expected to do so all her days, as an
early disappointment had disinclined her for marriage. When, after a
couple of years, her father, being then a man of seventy, brought home a
wife of twenty-five, Christina was, not unnaturally, incensed. She
refused to speak to the newcomer, shut herself up in her own apartments,
and had a special servant to wait upon her. This uncomfortable state of
things continued for some time, when she sickened of some acute
distemper, and died in a short time. She possessed some fine jewels,
which she had inherited from her mother, and she was heard to say
repeatedly that her stepmother should never lay a finger on one of them.
It is supposed that she, or her servant acting under her orders, hid the
casket containing these jewels somewhere in this house; at all events,
they were never found after her death, and have never, it is said, been
seen to this day."

"Oh, Uncle John! but has any one looked for them?"

"My dear Peggy, every one has looked for them. I cannot tell you how
many Montfort ladies, in all these generations, have fretted their
nerves and worn out their finger-nails, hunting for this Lost Casket. I
specially requested your Aunt Faith, Margaret, not to mention it to you
or your cousins when you were here together. I had seen so many vain
searches, and heard of so many heart-burnings, in connection with it,
that I thought it best to defer the information till--till later. This,
however, seems a very favorable time. You are all too sensible, girls,
to be unhappy if you do not find it. To tell the truth, I used to hunt
for it when I was a boy. But you can have a grand game of hide and seek,
with an object, imaginary or actual, at the end of it; and I wish you a
merry game, young people, and I return to my conversation with the Sieur
de Montaigne."

He was surrounded in an instant, kissed, caressed, and thanked till he
declared his life was in danger, and threaten