with a vague yes or no. When they descended again
they found that Mabyn had taken Mrs. Trelyon down to the beach, and
had inveigled her into entering a huge cavern, or rather a natural
tunnel, that went right through underneath the promontory on which the
castle is built. They were in a sort of green-hued twilight, a scent
of seaweed filling the damp air, and their voices raising an echo in
the great hall of rock.

"I hope the climbing has not made you giddy," Mrs. Trelyon said in her
kind way to Wenna, noticing that she was very silent and distrait.

"Oh no," Mabyn said promptly. "She has been seeing ghosts. We always
know when Wenna has been seeing ghosts: she remains so for hours."

And, indeed, at this time she was rather more reserved than usual all
during their walk back to luncheon and while they were in the inn;
and yet she was obviously very happy, and sometimes even amused by
the childlike pleasure which Mrs. Trelyon seemed to obtain from these
unwonted experiences.

"Come, now, mother," Master Harry said, "what are you going to do for
me when I come of age next month? Fill the house with guests--yes, you
promised that--with not more than one parson to the dozen? And when
they're all feasting and gabbling, and missing the targets with their
arrows, you'll slip quietly away, and I'll drive you and Miss Wenna
over here, and you'll go and get your feet wet again in that cavern,
and you'll come up here again and have an elegant luncheon, just like
this. Won't that do?"

"I don't quite know about the elegance of the luncheon, but I'm sure
our little excursion has been very pleasant. Don't you think so, Miss
Rosewarne?" Mrs. Trelyon said.

"Indeed I do," said Wenna, with her big, earnest eyes coming back from
their trance.

"And here is another thing," remarked young Trelyon. "There's
a picture I've seen of the heir coming of age--he's a horrid,
self-sufficient young cad, but never mind--and it seems to be a day of
general jollification. Can't I give a present to somebody? Well, I'm
going to give it to a young lady who never cares for anything but what
she can give away again to somebody else; and it is--well, it is--Why
don't you guess, Mabyn?"

"I don't know what you mean to give Wenna," said Mabyn naturally.

"Why, you silly! I mean to give her a dozen sewing-machines--a baker's
dozen--thirteen. There! Oh, I heard you as you came along. It was all,
'Three sewing-machines will cost so much, and four se