"Hang the cottages!" cried Vibert. "Leave them alone, and they'll tumble down of their own accord. Why should we trouble ourselves about them?" "We must care for the tenants that live in them," observed Emmie. "They've never done anything for us, why should we do anything for them?" said Vibert. "I don't believe that half of them ever think of paying their rents. If I were master here," continued Vibert, "I'd make a law that no dirty, ragged creature should come within a mile of the house. If these folk are miserable, I'm sorry for it; but that's no reason why I should be miserable too. Charity begins at home, and the first thing to be done at Myst Court is to put house and garden into tip-top order,--buy new carpets and a good billiard-table, set up a fountain yonder on the lawn (we'll consider about statues and vases), and then invite Alice and a merry party of young people down to the place. We'd drive out ghosts to the sound of fiddle and dancing, and depend upon it, you dear little coward, we should never again hear a word about Myst Court being haunted." "Ah, Vibert, we must remember our uncle's warnings," said Emmie, gently laying her hand on her brother's arm. "_Beware of selfishness!_--eh? well, I'll think about that when I see you _conquer mistrust_. But to be gay is my nature, as it is yours to be timid, and Bruce's to be proud. One cannot alter nature." "Can it not be improved?" asked Emmie. "Look at your garden,--it has been left for years to nature, so bears but a crop of weeds." "Oh, if you are going to moralize, I'll be off!" cried Vibert. "I have not tried my new gun yet, and I expect capital sport. I warrant you that I will bring home a brace of pheasants to mend our fare!" Mr. Trevor came down to Wiltshire by an early train, and was gladly welcomed at Myst Court. His presence greatly added to the harmony of the family circle; for his sons seldom exchanged bitter words when their father's eye was upon them. Emmie's spirits rose. When the family were gathered together at the luncheon-table, the young lady playfully rallied Vibert on his "capital sport," for she had seen him return with an empty bag from his shooting. Vibert laughed good-humouredly at his own want of success. "I thought that pheasants and partridges would be plentiful as blackberries in the brushwood," said he; "but I lighted on no bird more aristocratic than a crow. I think that there must be poachers abroad, or perhaps four-footed poachers, in the shape of those starved, disreputable-looking cats which come prowling about the place." "I suppose some of those left by my aunt as a legacy to her maid," observed Mr. Trevor. "The legatee does not value the keepsakes," said Vibert, "to judge by the looks of the cats that crossed my path to-day, sneaking back to their old quarters as if in search for scraps." "Does Mrs. Jessel live far from here?" inquired Emmie.