ed to get a laugh, but got it by asking,
confidentially, "Where was I? Oh!"--he caught himself up--"I remember.
Those of you who are in the habit of seeing ghosts need not be told that
a ghost never speaks first; and those who have never met an apparition
before, but are in the habit of going to the theatre, will recall the
fact that in W. Shakespeare's beautiful play of 'Hamlet' the play could
not have gone on after the first scene if Horatio had not spoken to the
ghost of Hamlet's father and taken the chances of being snubbed. Here
there are no chances of that kind; the chances are that you'll wish the
ghost had not been entreated: I think that is the phrase."

In the laugh that followed a girl on Miss Macroyd's other hand audibly
asked her, "Oh, isn't he too funny?"

"Delicious!" Miss Macroyd agreed. Verrian felt she said it to vex him.

"Now, there's just one other point," Bushwick resumed, "and then I
have done. Only one question can be allowed to each person, but if the
questioner is a lady she can ask a question and a half, provided she is
not satisfied with the answer. In this case, however, she will only get
half an answer. Now I have done, and if my arguments have convinced any
one within the sound of my voice that our ghost really means business,
I shall feel fully repaid for the pains and expense of getting up these
few impromptu remarks, to which I have endeavored to give a humorous
character, in order that you may all laugh your laugh out, and no
unseemly mirth may interrupt the subsequent proceedings. We will now
have a little music, and those who can recall my words will be allowed
to sing them."

In the giggling and chatter which ensued the chords softly played passed
into ears that might as well have been deaf; but at last there was
a general quiescence of expectation, in which every one's eyes were
strained to pierce through the gauze curtain to the sombre drapery
beyond. The wait was so long that the tension relaxed and a whispering
began, and Verrian felt a sickness of pity for the girl who was probably
going to make a failure of it. He asked himself what could have happened
to her. Had she lost courage? Or had her physical strength, not yet
fully renewed, given way under the stress? Or had she, in sheer disgust
for the turn the affair had been given by that brute Bushwick, thrown
up the whole business? He looked round for Mrs. Westangle; she was not
there; he conjectured--he could only conjectur