Almost the first item that greeted her was the stir about Josiah Bell, of which she had previously heard nothing. It had not subsided in the least, but rather increased: the man so long missing was now supposed to be lying at the bottom of the deep shaft. But the supposition could only be traced back to a very insecure source indeed: nothing more than a dream of Mr. Blase Pellet's. "A dream!" exclaimed Edina, in the midst of her wonder. "So Pellet says," replied Dr. Raynor. "But, papa, can there be any foundation for it? I mean for the fact, not the dream." "The very question we all asked when the rumour arose, Edina. At first it could not be traced to any source at all; there was the report, but whence it came seemed a mystery. At last, by dint of close and patient investigation, chiefly on the part of Float the publican, it was traced to Blase Pellet, and he said he had dreamt it." "Then, after all, it has no real foundation," cried Edina. "None but that. I questioned Pellet myself, asking him how he came to spread such a report about. He replied that he did not spread the report that Bell was lying there, only that he dreamt he was there." "I should have thought Blase Pellet a very unlikely man to have dreams, papa, and to relate them." "So should I," assented the doctor, significantly. "So unlikely, that I cannot help suspecting he did not have this one." Frank Raynor, who had risen and crossed to the window, as if attracted by something in the street, half turned at this remark, but immediately turned back again. Edina looked inquiringly at her father. "I could not help fancying, as I listened to him, that Pellet was saying it with a purpose," observed the doctor. "His manner was peculiar. If I may so describe it--shuffling." "I scarcely understand you, papa. You think he did not have the dream? That he only said he had it; and said it to answer some purpose of his own?" "Just so, Edina." "But what could be his purpose?" "Ah, there I am at fault. We may discover that later. If he did say it with a purpose, I conclude it will not end here." "Well, it sounds rather strange altogether," observed Edina. "Frank, do you mean to let your tea get quite cold?" Frank Raynor returned to his place. He drank his tea, but declined to eat, and began to speak of Mrs. Atkinson's will. "Did you hear any particulars about it, Edina?" "No," replied Edina. "Excepting the one fact that she did not make a second will. There were doubts upon the point, you know." "Uncle Francis never entertained any doubt about it, Edina; and he was the best judge, I think, of what his sister would or would not do. I am very glad, though, for his and Charley's sake." "For all their sakes," added Edina. "I rather wonder we have not heard from him," resumed Frank. "The funeral took place three or four days ago." "You were not able to go to it, papa?" said Edina.