"MARGARET SEFTON. "_P.S._--It is the maddest will; everything divided evenly between you two except the house and estate. The will says you and your cousin Selwyn are to meet there on the 1st September following his death, in presence of the family, and decide which of you is to have the house. If you can't agree, it's to be presented to the county for a lunatic asylum. I should think so! He was always so eccentric. The one who doesn't have the house, etc., gets L20,000 extra. Of course you will choose _that_. "_P.P.S._--Be sure to bring your under-shirts with you--the air here is very keen of an evening." I opened both the windows and lit a pipe. Sefton Manor, that gorgeous old place,--I knew its picture in Hasted, cradle of our race, and so on--and a big fortune. I hoped my cousin Selwyn would want the L20,000 more than he wanted the house. If he didn't--well, perhaps my fortune might be large enough to increase that L20,000 to a sum that he _would_ want. And then, suddenly, I became aware that this was the 31st of August, and that to-morrow was the day on which I was to meet my cousin Selwyn and "the family," and come to a decision about the house. I had never, to my knowledge, heard of my cousin Selwyn. We were a family rich in collateral branches. I hoped he would be a reasonable young man. Also, I had never seen Sefton Manor House, except in a print. It occurred to me that I would rather see the house before I saw the cousin. I caught the next train to Sefton. "It's but a mile by the field way," said the railway porter. "You take the stile--the first on the left--and follow the path till you come to the wood. Then skirt along the left of it, cater across the meadow at the end, and you'll see the place right below you in the vale." "It's a fine old place, I hear," said I. "All to pieces, though," said he. "I shouldn't wonder if it cost a couple o' hundred to put it to rights. Water coming through the roof and all." "But surely the owner----" "Oh, he never lived there; not since his son was taken. He lived in the lodge; it's on the brow of the hill looking down on the Manor House." "Is the house empty?" "As empty as a rotten nutshell, except for the old sticks o' furniture. Any one who likes," added the porter, "can lie there o' nights. But it wouldn't be me!" "Do you mean there's a ghost?" I hope I kept any note of undue elation out of my voice. "I don't hold with ghosts," said the porter firmly, "but my aunt was in service at the lodge, and there's no doubt but _something_ walks there." "Come," I said, "this is very interesting. Can't you leave the station, and come across to where beer is?" "I don't mind if I do," said he. "That is so far as your standing a drop goes. But I can't leave the station, so if you pour my beer you must pour it dry, sir, as the saying is."