Circumstances had brought all these matters more especially to her mind to-night. An old friend of hers, a Mrs. Hunter of Stilborough, had been also a visitor, though a chance one, that evening at Greylands' Rest. Mrs. Hunter was very fond of Mr. Castlemaine. She scouted the doubt thrown upon him in connection with his vanished nephew, regarding it as the height of absurdity; and to show this opinion of hers, rather liked talking of the affair. She had introduced it that evening at Greylands' Rest, asking all sorts of questions about the Keep, and about the ghost that sometimes appeared there, and about Anthony. During this conversation, Mary Ursula noticed that her uncle was remarkably silent; and once she caught a look of strangely painful uneasiness on his face. As they were walking home--for it was Mr. Castlemaine himself who had brought her back to the Grey Nunnery--she ventured to speak of it to him. "You have never heard in any way of Anthony, I suppose, Uncle James?" "Never," was Mr. Castlemaine's reply. "Is it not strange that some of his friends in France do not inquire after him? He must have had friends there." "I'm sure I don't know," was the curt answer. "What do you think became of him, uncle?" "My dear, the affair has altogether so annoyed me that I don't care to think. We will drop it, Mary Ursula." Now, this was not satisfactory--and Mary felt that it was not. Of course it closed her lips upon the subject of Anthony; but she put another question not much less hazardous. "Who is that figure that shows himself sometimes as the ghost of the Grey Monk?" "I do not understand you." The answer caused her to pause: the tone of it was, certainly resentful. "He walks about with his lamp, uncle." "Well?" "Surely you do not believe in it--that it is really a ghost?" she exclaimed in astonishment. "I am content not to be wiser than my neighbours," replied Mr. Castlemaine. "I suppose I have some elements of superstition within me. We are none of us responsible for our own nature, you know, Mary Ursula." She said no more. In fact, they reached the Nunnery gate just then. Mr. Castlemaine saw her indoors, and went back again. Mary sat late, writing her letter, and then came up to her room.