“I am not at all sure if the climate will suit you or the child,” he says, “it is sometimes very raw and misty up on those hills. And then it is very wild and lonely. I know the castle MacQuirk means--a great straggling building standing quite by itself, and in a most exposed position. I really think you will be much wiser to go to England, Ethel.” “Oh, Charlie! how unkind of you, and when you know the separation will kill me!” “It would be harder, just at first, but I should feel our trouble would be repaid. But I shall always be in a fidget about you at Mandalinati.” “But, Charlie, what harm can happen when you are with us?” “My dear girl, I can’t go with you to the castle.” “Why not?” “Because business will detain me here. How do you suppose I can leave the regiment?” “But you will come up very often to see us--every week at least; won’t you, Charlie?” “On a four days’ journey! Ethel, my dear, be reasonable. If you go to Mandalinati, the most I can promise is to get a fortnight’s leave after a time, and run up to see how you and the dear child are getting on. But I don’t like your going, and I tell you so plainly. Suppose you are taken ill before your time, or Katie has another attack, how are you to get assistance up on those beastly hills? Think better of it, Ethel, and decide on England. If you go, Captain Lewis says he will send his wife at the same time, and you would be nice company for each other on the way home.” “Mrs. Lewis, indeed! an empty-headed noodle! Why, she would drive me crazy before we were half-way there. No, Charlie; I am quite decided. If _you_ cannot accompany me to England, I refuse to go. I shall get the loan of the castle, and try what four weeks there will do for the child.” And thus it came to pass that Mrs. Dunstan’s absurd jealousy of Mrs. Lawless drives her to spend that fatal month at the lonely castle on the Mandalinati Hills, instead of going in peace and safety to her native land. For a brief space Hope leads her to believe that she may induce Mrs. Lawless to pass the time of exile with her. If her woman’s wit can only induce the fatal beauty to become her guest, she will bear the loss of Charlie’s society with equanimity. But though Cissy Lawless seems for a moment almost to yield, she suddenly draws back, to Mrs. Dunstan’s intense annoyance. “The old castle on the hills!” she exclaimed. “Are you and Colonel Dunstan really going there? How delightfully romantic! I believe no end of murders have been committed there, and every room is haunted. Oh, I should like to go, too, of all things in the world! I long to see a real ghost, only you must promise never to leave us alone, Colonel, for I should die of fright if I were left by myself.” “But I shall not be there, I am sorry to say,” replies the colonel. “My wife and Katie are going for change of air, but I must simmer meanwhile at Mudlianah.”