"Yes," said Isabel, replying to my last question first. "Several people tried to do so, but they were always met at the lodge by the information that the ladies could not see any one, and the calls were never returned. Of course all sorts of wild stories got about, but papa does not believe that there is the least foundation for any of them; and `out of their minds!' Oh, no! none of them are that." "But what do they do? How can they live? It must be so terribly monotonous?" "I suppose that they have got used to it," said Isabel. "And the grounds round the house are very large. Perhaps if they have come through some fearful sorrow or tragedy, the mere feeling of peace must be a boon that we ordinary people can scarcely understand. And they seem devoted to each other. One cannot but hear a little gossip, for they make a point of engaging servants from the immediate neighbourhood, and these all say that they are very kindly treated, and that the Greys--that is the name of the family--`are real gentry!' The only fault the servants find is, that it is very dull; but still, as they are allowed a good deal of freedom, they generally stay some years." "It was rather clever not to bring any servants with them," I said. "Generally in stories of this kind they have some old family confidant bound over to secrecy." "Yes," said Isabel smiling. "But you forget _my_ story is not fiction, but fact. It has been better than fiction to me though," she went on, "it has been a perpetual romance before my eyes all my life." Just then, as far as I remember, we were interrupted. I think that was all that Isabel told me that first day, of the strange story. But it had taken a great hold upon my imagination, and though I did not speak of it at home--I was not sure that I had any right to do so--my mind was full of it. And it was not long before the opportunity came for asking further questions about the Grim House and its occupants. For now, during the two or three weeks that remained of our stay at Weissbad, our new friends and we were almost inseparable, and when father joined us again, the intimacy by no means decreased, and I could see that he, quite as much as mother, approved of Isabel's companionship for me. It was tacitly agreed by the elders of both parties that the friendship was to be encouraged, and that when we were again settled at home I should be allowed to pay a visit to the Wynyards. And whenever we spoke of this visit-to-be, the subject of the Grim House was sure to be reverted to. "I am looking forward tremendously to staying with you," I said one day to Isabel; "but do you know, even if I were not sure that I should enjoy it in other ways, I should be dreadfully disappointed not to go to Millflowers. I am so exceedingly interested about that queer family, I keep thinking and thinking about them and wondering what their secret _can_ be." Isabel looked a very little troubled.