They went along noiselessly, with their softly shod and softly falling feet, two slim, dark figures in the pale twilight, with the maid trotting after them. But for her plump youthfulness, they might have been three congenial spirits of the place in a light so fit for spiritual appearances. There was nothing more said until they had almost reached home; then Miss Margaret delivered herself of the conclusion to which she had been coming with so much thought. "It was perhaps a little rash--considering the charge we have, and that the young man is an utter stranger--but one cannot think of everything, as you say. And I cannot see why you should be deprived of a pleasure--there are not so many of them--because of Lilias. We will say just nothing about it. We will trust to Providence. The likelihood is she will be busy with her lessons, poor thing, and she will think it is just you playing the piano." "Me!" cried Miss Jean, "playing like _yon_." "Well, well, you know I am no judge, and Lilias not much better. If he can satisfy me what Murrays he belongs to, and can stand a near inspection, she may come in; I'll make no objection," Miss Margaret said, graciously, as she opened the door. The key was turned when the family went to bed, but the hall-door of Murkley Castle stood open all day long in primitive security. Miss Jean lingered a little upon the steps. "It is just the night," she said, "to take a turn down the Walk." "Oh, you'll not do that, mem!" cried Susie, the maid. "And why not, you silly lassie? If you'll come with me, you will see there is nothing to fear." "Eh no, mem!" cried Susie; "no, if you would give me the Castle to mysel'." "What is that you are saying about the Walk? Come in, Jean, it is too late for any of your sentiment. And, Susie, my woman, go you to your bed. If we had any business in the Walk, both you and me would go, be you sure, and I would like to see you say no to your mistress. Come in, that I may lock the door."