untings at Castle Rush as having only
too much foundation in fact, he went on: "It's all rubbish, that old
woman saying she had cleared them all away! Nothing of the kind. There
are plenty of malicious spirits about still, _and now that an heir is
coming to Rush they are keener than ever to try and work some mischief_.
No use saying anything to Tom (his brother). He will only laugh, and say
it is all skittles. But tell my little sister-in-law to
PRAY--PRAY--PRAY. That is all they need and all she needs either."

Now this was not exactly the message one cared to send to a rather
recent acquaintance. To begin with, the reference to Mrs Kent's valued
friend in the opening sentence was scarcely polite! Then again, the
prophecy of an heir to Rush was one that I regretted should have been
made, as it would probably only lead to disappointment. Mrs Kent's first
child had been a little son, from whose loss she had never recovered.
When I was staying at the castle, two nice little girls, old enough to
come down to early dinner, at our luncheon hour, comprised the family.
Another child was certainly expected to arrive about Christmas-time (my
visit was paid in September), but Mrs Kent herself was fully convinced
that this would be _another girl_, as she said rather sadly. It seemed a
pity to disturb her mind by raising false hopes.

But, as usual, I felt bound to send the message, with the customary
explanations and apologies.

Mrs Kent was greatly interested by it and by the "PRAY--PRAY--PRAY,"
which, as she explained to me, had a very special meaning for her. It
had only struck me as an exceedingly _unlikely_ message for the Captain
Kent I had known, to send to anyone.

I am glad to be able to record that the Christmas gift did arrive in the
shape of a baby boy, "_heir to Rush_," who is still alive and
flourishing, thank God! I hear that he calls himself "the master," with
a true Irish brogue, and lords it over his elder sisters in the regular
chieftain style!

To this year belongs another strong impression of psychic atmosphere,
left in a room which I occupied in the south of England.

It was a most comfortable room, with nothing in the least ghostly about
it. Merely I had an unpleasant feeling that controversies and
discussions had taken place in the room, and that a want of harmony hung
about it in consequence.

On mentioning this rather tentatively to the master of the house--a very
orthodox clergyman--I was told: "