Meg looked at him doubtfully, not understanding such irony; but Dan looked so grave when he spoke, that she passed over his remark in silence. "This is the house," she said, as they turned a corner and came within view of Farbis Court; "and yonder is Miss Linisfarne, walking on the terrace." Before them stretched the long façade of Farbis Court, looking desolate and ruinous in the strong light of the afternoon. A figure in white was slowly pacing up and down the terrace, but as they advanced towards the steps vanished into the house. Dan turned to his companion for an explanation. "She sees you are a stranger," said Meg, gravely, "and will now shut herself up in her own room till you leave." "Has she---- Oh, I beg your pardon; I must not ask questions. But your Miss Linisfarne is a most mysterious lady. One would think she had committed a crime." "Ah! You have been listening to foolish tales in the village." "On my honour, I have not. It was a mere idea." "Avery incorrect one," said the girl, who seemed offended at the imputation cast on her benefactress. "Do not say anything about Miss Linisfarne when you are inside. She may overhear you." "Not if she stays in her room." His guide laughed, but vouchsafed no explanation of her merriment. She knew perfectly well that Miss Linisfarne would be close beside them, to examine Dan thoroughly, but this information she did not think it wise to impart to her companion. Laying her finger on her lips to command silence, she led him into the dusky hall, and closed the great door with a resonant crash. It was the first time that Dan had set foot in the house of his ancestors, and he looked curiously at his surroundings. The hall was flagged with black and white marble in a diamond pattern, and on all sides arose tall white pillars, which vanished in the obscurity of the roof. Indeed, the whole house was pervaded by a twilight atmosphere, which Dan guessed was caused by the dirty state of the windows and the lavish use of stained glass. It smelt mouldy, and their footsteps echoed in the large empty spaces in a most dreary fashion. One could well imagine it to be filled with ghostly company at night. "Do phantoms haunt this place?" whispered Dan, as they ascended the wide staircase. "I can well imagine lords and ladies in silks and satins and powdered hair and slender canes coming out in the darkness." "I never saw any of them," replied Meg, in a matter-of-fact tone; "and I have been all over the house at midnight. Surely you don't believe in ghosts!" "No. But I could forgive any one who did while dwelling in this house." "It _is_ rather dreary," said Meg, casting a careless look around. "I wonder Lord Ardleigh doesn't pull the place down. But I don't suppose he knows he possesses the mansion." "Why not?" "Because he would not neglect it so much if he did. Why doesn't he come down and stay here, and see what he can do to help the weavers of Farbis? He is very wealthy, you know."