And here Elsie diverged into an account of her young mistress, who had been Amabel's grandmother. I was not sorry, for the tale had "garred me grew," as Elsie said, and I was glad that the poor wolf-lady, if such she was, could claim no kin with me. I have since learned that there are plenty of ghost stories in my own family. Indeed, the Corbet ghosts have made themselves so cheap that they are very little regarded. I cannot say that either Amabel or myself slept any the worse for Elsie's story, though I must confess to starting sometimes when the bloodhounds would give vent to their long melancholy bay, worshipping the moon after the fashion of their race. Mrs. Deborah and Mrs. Chloe came home the next day but one, Mrs. Chloe seeming much revived by her visit. The ball had been a great success, and Mrs. Chloe had danced one dance with a very fine gentleman indeed—some officer or other—who had given her a fine copy of verses next morning, as the fashion was then. * * Those who are curious may find plenty of such copies of verses in old collections. They might mostly be made on a machine. Molly and Jenny had greatly regretted our absence, and had sent us a box of shells, and a needle-book and work-bag of their own manufacture. Mine was made of flowers cut out in satin and paper, and placed between two thicknesses of transparent catgut, † and was really very pretty and ingenious. † A thin, transparent, but rather stiff material, much used for ornamental works. I have seen an old work-bag made of it. Aunt Chloe had learned several new stitches, and the teaching of these and describing the dresses at the ball afforded her amusement, till something happened which drove General B., his sword-knot, and copies of verses, effectually out of her head. This event, however, must be reserved for another chapter. [Illustration] CHAPTER XIX. SURPRISES. WE went on in our usual course for some weeks. Mr. Lethbridge, the new rector, proved quite a contrast to Doctor Brown. He was a thin, serious faced young man, very much in earnest, and not always (or so I thought) very discreet in his zeal. He was one of those men who seem, if I may so express myself, to have no perspective in their minds. To eat meat on a Friday in Lent, or to go to a dance on the green were in his eyes as great crimes as to get drunk at the alehouse or to beat one's wife. He sorely puzzled and distressed old Gaffer Bell at the almshouse, by telling him that for a man so near the grave as he was, to spend hours in playing the fiddle was a frivolous if not a sinful waste of time. And when Gaffer Bell, one of the two or three old people who could read and a pretty good Bible scholar too, told him that he "didn't find nowt agen the fiddle in Bible—" he reproved him for speaking lightly of sacred things. Mr. Lethbridge approved highly of some of Mr. Wesley's doings, such as his prayer and conference meetings, and set one of the latter up in his own parish.