“The Rev. gentleman nodded. ‘Just so,’ he said, ‘and it was this apparition, undoubtedly, that your little boy saw just now. It always appears on November 4, the anniversary of the murder, and--’ Mr. Wetherby was going to add something that, judging from the increased solemnity of his voice, would have been very impressive, when Mr. Hartley cut in: ‘Then at all events we shall have a reprieve, a year’s undisputed possession, subject to no interference on the part of the spook--Mr. Whatever’s his name.’ He laughed irreverently, ‘You certainly won’t catch me giving up this lease for any so immaterial a reason. No, thank you! I cannot get as good a bargain as this every day in the week!’ “The Rev. Silas rose to go. ‘Very well then!’ he said, bowing stiffly, ‘I could say more--but I won’t! I am sorry I have said as much. Some sceptics are never convinced! Some sceptics do not wish to be convinced! Some sceptics may be convinced, but prefer to appear unconvinced! “‘I am no metaphysician! I will not attempt to classify YOU. I will only say, “May you never be AFRAID.” “‘I trust Mrs. Hartley, at all events, is not a sceptic: I hope she is not a psychic! especially not a psychic in this house. I wish you good day!’ “‘He did not wish us good luck!’ Mr. Hartley explained as the door banged. ‘By Jove! I have no patience to listen to such stuff! Haunted, indeed!’ “But his wife shook her head. ‘Scepticism is one thing, and what Bobbie saw is another!’ she argued. ‘You can’t get over that, Arthur! Now, are we doing the right thing for the children in remaining here?’ “In all matters concerning her children Mrs. Hartley’s instincts were always acute--one or two of them were babies, even younger than Bobbie. “On this occasion, however, Mr. Hartley held his own. ‘BOBBIE,’ he reasoned, ‘must have had the daymare, and even if he did see anything, no harm has come of it. You must recollect, my dear,’ he observed, ‘that I have not been doing over-well on the Stock Exchange lately; moving is a costly thing, and if I spend money in one way, I must recoup in another, which means no new dress for you and no Weston-super-Mare for the children.’ “The validity of this logic was not lost upon Mrs. Hartley. She reflected; and then with her customary adroitness gave a turn to the conversation. * * * * * “It was once again November, the fourth of November, and the staircase incident of a year ago now seemed remote and improbable. It was, however, uppermost in the minds of both Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, though they both pretended to have forgotten it. “They had neither seen Mr. Wetherby again, nor had they mentioned the appearance of the ghost to anyone. It was really of so little consequence.