“Certainly not,” replied Sir Gilbert with emphasis. “Nor to my father before me. My mother _fancied_ that she caught a glimpse of the figure on several occasions, not outside the house where it is generally said to be seen, but indoors, in the picture-gallery, or on the stairs, or elsewhere; but she was an excitable woman—excitable in more ways than one—and my father always pooh-poohed her statements of what she professed to have seen as so many hallucinations, although, as a matter of course, he wholly failed in converting her to his own point of view.” Next morning, on coming down to breakfast, Lady Pell found by her plate a black-bordered letter bearing a French postmark. At sight of it she exclaimed: “Then the poor child is dead! What a pity! And he was the only grandson.” Sir Gilbert, who was already seated at table, glanced inquiringly at her. “I think I told you,” she said in answer to the look, “that it was originally my intention, after leaving the Shrublands, to have gone direct to France, there to stay till well on for Christmas with a very old friend of mine, indeed, the only one of my school companions whose friendship I have retained till now. On the eve of starting I received a letter from Julie in which she asked me, in consequence of her grandson’s illness, to put off my visit till I should hear from her again. It was merely a feverish cold, she wrote, and not the slightest danger was apprehended. But this black-bordered missive, even before I open it, tells me but too surely what has happened.” She said no more, but opened the letter. Tears were in her eyes when she laid it down a couple of minutes later. For awhile the meal progressed in silence. Sir Gilbert was the first to speak. “Am I right, Louisa, in supposing that, owing to your friend’s loss, your visit to France will have to be postponed indefinitely?” he asked. “Postponed till spring undoubtedly. Madame de Bellecour presses me to go after a week or two, but at such a time I should feel myself little better than an intruder.” “In that case there can be no valid reason why you should not prolong your visit at the Chase, and give to us the time you originally intended to devote to your friend in France.” Lady Pell in the act of helping herself to sugar considered for a few moments. Then she said: “Thank you for your offer, Cousin Gilbert. I will think it over and let you know my decision later on.” After breakfast Lady Pell went to her room to write some letters. At such times, as Ethel was aware, she preferred to be alone. So, it being one of those lovely autumn mornings which are among the choicest of the year, Ethel put on her hat and quitted the house with the intention of exploring the grounds, and making herself better acquainted with the Chase and its surroundings.