“In no degree approaching it, I assure you, Mr. Arnold. In proof that I do not think so, I am ready, if you wish it—although I rather dread the possible effects on the nerves of the ladies, especially as this is an old house—to repeat, with the aid of those present, certain experiments which I have sometimes found perhaps only too successful.” “Oh! I don’t,” said Euphra, faintly. An expression of the opposite desire followed, however, from the other ladies. Their curiosity seemed to strive with their fears, and to overcome them. “I hope we shall have nothing to do with it in any other way than merely as spectators?” said Mrs. Elton. “Nothing more than you please. It is doubtful if you can even be spectators. That remains to be seen.” “Good gracious!” exclaimed Mrs. Elton. Lady Emily looked at her with surprise—almost reproof. “I beg your pardon, my dear; but it sounds so dreadful. What can it be?” “Let me entreat you, ladies, not to imagine that I am urging you to anything,” said Funkelstein. “Not in the least,” replied Mrs. Elton. “I was very foolish.” And the old lady looked ashamed, and was silent. “Then if you will allow me, I will make one small preparation. Have you a tool-chest anywhere, Mr. Arnold?” “There must be tools enough about the place, I know. I will ring for Atkins.” “I know where the tool chest is,” said Hugh; “and, if you will allow me a suggestion, would it not be better the servants should know nothing about this? There are some foolish stories afloat amongst them already.” “A very proper suggestion, Mr. Sutherland,” said Mr. Arnold, graciously. “Will you find all that is wanted, then?” “What tools do you want?” asked Hugh. “Only a small drill. Could you get me an earthenware plate—not china—too?” “I will manage that,” said Euphra. Hugh soon returned with the drill, and Euphra with the plate. The Bohemian, with some difficulty, and the remark that the English ware was very hard, drilled a small hole in the rim of the plate—a dinner-plate; then begging an H B drawing-pencil from Miss Cameron, cut off a small piece, and fitted it into the hole, making it just long enough to touch the table with its point when the plate lay in its ordinary position. “Now I am ready,” said he. “But,” he added, raising his head, and looking all round the room, as if a sudden thought had struck him—“I do not think this room will be quite satisfactory.” They were now in the drawing-room. “Choose the room in the house that will suit you,” said Mr. Arnold. “The dining-room?”