“Not very soon; not for six months, or perhaps longer. It was that which made me walk so far.” Lostwithiel looked puzzled. “I mean that I was so disappointed by his letter--a letter I received to-day--that I went out for a long ramble to walk down my bad spirits, and hardly knew how far I was going. It has made me inflict trouble on you, and Mrs.----” “Mayne. Both Mrs. Mayne and I are delighted to be of use to you. Order the station brougham, Dalton, immediately,” to the man who answered his bell. “The carriage can hardly be ready in less than twenty minutes, so pray try to do justice to Mrs. Mayne’s tea.” “It is delicious tea,” said Isola, enjoying the fire-glow, and the dancing lights upon the richly bound books in all their varieties of colouring, from black and crimson and orange-tawny to vellum diapered with gold. She was evidently relieved in her mind by the knowledge that she was to be driven home presently. “If you are really interested in this old house you must come some sunny morning and let Mrs. Mayne show you over it,” said Lostwithiel, establishing himself with his cup and saucer upon the other side of the hearth. “She knows all the old stories, and she has a better memory than I.” “I should like so much to do so next summer, when my husband can come with me.” “I’m afraid Major Disney won’t care much about the old place. He is a native of these parts, and must have been here often in my father’s time. I shall hope to receive you both, if I am here next October for the shooting--but there is no need to postpone your inspection of the house to the remote future. Come on the first fine morning that you have nothing better to do. Mrs. Mayne is always at home; and I am almost always out of doors in the morning. You can have the house to yourselves, and talk about ghosts to your hearts’ content.” “Oh, my lord, I hope I know better than to say anything disrespectful of the house,” protested Mrs. Mayne. “My dear Mayne, a family ghost is as respectable an institution as a family tree.” Isola murmured some vague acknowledgment of his civility. She was far too shy to have any idea of taking advantage of his offer. To re-enter that house alone of her own accord would be impossible. By-and-by, with her husband at her side, she would be bold enough to do anything, to accept any hospitality that Lostwithiel might be moved to offer. He would invite Martin, perhaps, for the shooting, or to a luncheon, or a dinner. She wondered vaguely if she would ever possess a gown good enough to wear at a dinner-party in such a house.