Now old Smith was the son of a great London millionaire--an alderman, or even a lord mayor, for any thing I know--who had bought Howkey, and built an enormous house, to which his son had taken the moment the old gentleman died; had cut the shop, got on the commission, and now rejoiced in a fat, jolly, good-tempered wife, and a multiplicity of sons and daughters. Such a fellow for points of law was never heard of out of Westminster Hall, nor in it either. He read Acts of Parliament as other people read novels--for his amusement; and every body thought he knew more about them than a lord chancellor. There was great rejoicing at Howkey, from the drawing-room up to the very nursery, when I told of Frank Edwards's arrival. All manner of enquiries were made, in various tones of interest, from the romantic Miss Sibylla down to the youngest of the girls, as to his appearance, manner, height, and complexion. I answered them all to the extreme satisfaction of the enquirers, but took care to make no allusion to his companion; though, at the same time, I confess I could not persuade myself that what I had overheard had the dreadful meaning I at first attached to it. He must have meant something else; for I had not become acquainted with the new style of flash language, where so many allusions are made to people's mothers and their mangles, without any real reference either to one or other. Getting a man murdered in a shooting-box might mean something equivalent to "There you go, with your eye out!" which has no meaning at all. But although I had persuaded myself of this, I made no mention at Howkey of the ferocious-looking Percy Marvale, but merely asked my friend Old Smith to come over, and help me to welcome the new neighbour. Sibylla, who had all along been of opinion that Mr Frank Edwards was engaged to his tutor's daughter, and took no interest in him accordingly, was all of a sudden seized with an uncommon affection for my wife. She felt for the awkwardness of her position so much in being the only lady among so many gentlemen, that she insisted on going over with her father, merely to bear her company; and, from the sympathizing countenance of her fair sister Monimia, I expected every moment a similar offer from her. The Williamses, and old Harry Lambert and his son, were the only others I could catch on so short a notice; but we all determined to make up in friendliness for the paucity in numbers, and give young Frank a hearty welcome to his native county. We were all assembled in the drawing-room--that is to say, all but the party from Bandvale--and Mr Smith was laying down the law, or rather explaining it after his usual manner, when Sibylla, who had stood at the window, all of a sudden gave a slight scream, and flushed up to the eyes like a peony rose. "Why, what's the matter, Sib?" said Old Smith; "has a bee stung you." "No, no!" she said; "but I saw likeness--a something"-- "What was it you saw?" enquired my wife--"a ghost?"