andon, "I never could have supposed that
Grand was superstitious. I don't believe he is either; what does it
mean?" and as there was still silence, he became so certain that Grand
would fain ask some more questions but did not like to do so, that he
said, in a careless tone, "That was all the children told us;" and
thereupon, being satisfied and willing to change the subject, as Brandon
thought, the old man said,--

"Does my brother dine at home to-day, St. George?"

"Yes, uncle; shall I tell him you will come over to dinner?"

"Well, my dear fellow, if you are sure it will be convenient to have
me--it is a good while since I saw him--so you may."

"He will be delighted; shall I tell him you will stay the night?"

"Yes."

"Well done, father," said John, looking up. "I am glad you are getting
over the notion that you cannot sleep away from home. I'll come over to
breakfast, St. George, and drive my father in."

"Do," said Brandon, taking his leave; and as he walked to the railway
that was to take him home, he could not help still pondering on the
effect produced by the mention of the ghost. He little supposed,
however, that the ghost was at the bottom of this visit to his
stepfather; but it was.

CHAPTER VII.

AN OLD MAN DIGS A WELL.

"And travel finishes the fool."

Gay.

Mrs. Peter Melcombe, all unconscious of the unfavourable impression her
son had made on his late host, continued to think a good deal of the
agreeable widower. She made Peter write from time to time to little
Janie Mortimer and report the progress of the puppy, at the same time
taking care to mention his dear mamma in a manner that she thought would
be advantageous.

It cost Peter a world of trouble to copy and recopy these epistles till
his mother was satisfied with them; but she always told him that he
would not be remembered so well or invited again unless he wrote; and
this was true.

His little friends wrote in reply, but by no means such carefully-worded
letters; they also favoured him with shoals of Christmas cards and
showers of valentines, but his letters never got beyond the schoolroom;
and if John Mortimer's keen eyes had ever fallen on them, it would have
availed nothing. He would have discovered at once that they were not the
child's sole production, and would have been all the more decided not to
invite him again.

When first Mrs. Melcombe came home she perceived a certain change in
Laura, who was hard