I say with comparative calmness, for a strong suspicion now entered my mind that Lady Wentworth may have anticipated all along what would happen, and that I had been put in that room as a mere experiment to see whether it were still haunted. The bare idea of such perfidy filled me with so great an indignation that I seriously thought of trumping up some excuse and returning home; my resolutions being shattered only by the opportune arrival of Cousin Robert, whose cordial welcome acting like a stimulant made me decide to remain. With a thoughtfulness that had singled him out from among his companions as a boy, he noticed my weariness, and putting it down to the fatigue of my journey went in search of his wife’s maid. Need I say that I was thankful to get to bed and there, despite my ghostly adventures, I slept very soundly till the gong went for breakfast, at which free and easy meal I made the acquaintance of some very charming guests. Miladi was of course too much in request to spend more than a few minutes with poor, insignificant me; she expressed an earnest hope that I had not been too dull for words and that I had found the room warm and comfortable. “At all events,” she added, “you can sit and read there without fear of interruption. I know how fond of books you ‘clever’ people are--you must go into the library and choose some. You were not disturbed last night were you?” Though this question was put in the most artless manner possible and with all apparent ingenuousness I detected a half frightened, half inquiring expression in her eyes that she vainly tried to stifle, an expression which converted the suspicion I had entertained into a conviction, a conviction that this woman was isolating me to serve some deep and subtle purpose. I tried to get out of the lady’s-maid what this purpose might be, but if Webster knew she most certainly showed no signs of it, being doubtless as accomplished an actress as her mistress. As one may readily conclude I looked forward to the evening with little equanimity, offering up fervent prayers for any incident that might add to the duration of dinner. Now I hate grand dinners as a rule; their regality unnerves me; I am appalled at the number of people; at the dazzling display of plate, at the multiplicity of the courses (many of the dishes being unknown to me), at the ceaseless flow of conversation, at the clatter of glasses, at the wine, at everything; but on this occasion I simply revelled in it; the greatest formalities appealed to me as pleasantly distracting; I was poor, my companions wealthy scions of the aristocracy. I had nothing to do but eat--eat and be silent; be silent and listen; listen and look, and I saw all that one would have wanted to see in the atelier of the very best costumière in Paris or the West End.