So mused David Lindsay, sitting before the dining-room fire, until he was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Brent, bringing a coffee-pot in her hands and followed by a negro man with a large dish of broiled partridges. “Dear me! Good-morning, sir! You here! I was just a going to send Hector to let you know breakfast was ready; for as I didn’t see you in the big parlor with Mrs. Lindsay, I thought you were still in your room,” said the good woman. “I have been down some time; but there was no one in the parlor when I looked in.” “Mrs. Lindsay has only been there for a few minutes, sir. Here she comes now! Now, Hector, bring in the muffins.” Gloria entered at the same moment. David Lindsay arose and placed a chair for her. They only said good-morning to each other by a look. The last dishes were set on the board, Philippa joined them, and they all sat down to the table, the girl just nodding by way of a morning salutation. “I hope you slept well, ma’am?” said Mrs. Brent, interrogatively. “Profoundly. I never even dreamed or stirred until morning! If there be a ghost about the house it didn’t disturb me,” answered Gloria. “Well, I suppose I should have slept quietly enough too, if it hadn’t been for Philly! She kept jumping and starting, and talking, and crying out the live-long night,” said the housekeeper. Gloria looked at her young companion and saw that she was pale and anxious, yet Gloria did not dare to ask the reason, lest “Philly” should blurt out something about the ghastly apparition that had appalled them in the cavern. But Philippa spoke for herself. “It was too much supper and the nightmare,” she explained, with serio-comic gravity. As soon as breakfast was over, Gloria left the table and retreated into the big parlor, followed by David Lindsay. Gloria had unpacked some materials for the silk embroidery which she liked so well to do. Now she had brought some down to the parlor with her, and she sat down and began to arrange it for work. “If I were not still so extremely tired with my week’s rumbling over rough roads, I should like to go out to-day and explore some of this magnificent mountain scenery,” she said, as she threaded her needle. “What? In paths covered deep in snow and ice?” queried David Lindsay, as he stood on the hearth with his elbow leaning on the mantelpiece. “Yes! It is not the condition of the ground that would prevent me! It is my own state. I feel as weary and worn out as if I were seventy years old instead of seventeen. In fact, I feel my fatigue even more to-day than I did yesterday.” “I am sorry to hear that. I had hoped that you had quite recovered. You said that you had slept so soundly.” “That was from my deep weariness. Yes, I slept ‘like death’ all night. But I will venture to say that you did not, David Lindsay. You look as if you had been interviewed by an unpleasant ghost!” said Gloria lightly.