"My liver is out of order, I fancy. I had a severe bilious attack after that fright, and I am not right yet." Dr. Spreckley turned his head to her rather sharply. "What fright?" he asked. Mrs. Carlyon glanced across at Ella. She had spoken without thought. "I really see no reason why we should not tell you," she resumed, after a minute's consideration. "In fact, I have observed to Ella once or twice that it might be better if we did mention it to some discreet friend. Not that anything can be done." And Mrs. Carlyon forthwith related the whole story of her fright in the dusky corridor. Dr. Spreckley listened attentively. "What it was I know not, Doctor: whether man or woman, ghost or goblin. A silent shadowy form glided past me, imparting to me the most intense terror, and vanishing almost as soon as it had passed." "One of the young servants, ma'am," emphatically spoke the Doctor. "No. Every inmate of the house was in the kitchen, or about it, as I have told you. I saw them all when I ran down. Whoever or whatever it was, it was not a servant." "Could it have been young Stone? Had he gone upstairs for any purpose?" "No, no, no. Hubert Stone would not have been gliding about the corridors in that silent, stealthy manner. Hubert Stone was not at home that evening; he was spending it with Dr. Jago." "True," nodded the Doctor. He remembered that Hubert had gone out with Jago after the reading of the will, the same mourning coach conveying them to the latter's residence. "Was this in the north wing?" he asked. "I do not know," answered Mrs. Carlyon. "Ella thinks it was. I took the wrong turning in the dark and lost myself, and goodness knows where I got to." "It must have been the north wing," interposed Ella. "The stairs my aunt ran down lead direct from it." "Ah," said the Doctor, "that north wing has managed to get up a weird name for itself, and the minute any of you get into it, your common sense leaves you. I am not speaking of you, ma'am," he added to Mrs. Carlyon, "but of the house in general;" and, dropping the subject, he proceeded to question her about her ailments. "One of the wenches got up there; 'twas nothing else," thought the Doctor, as he left the ladies and went away. "Were I Miss Winter, I'd have that wing turned inside out." Walking round to the stable-yard, his way led him past the kitchen windows. It was growing dusk then, but the fire lighted up the room. He saw Dorothy Stone bending over the fire, stirring something in a saucepan. Dr. Spreckley walked straight into the kitchen. "Oh, sir, how you frightened me!" cried Dorothy, turning round with a start. "You are easily frightened," retorted the Doctor. "Are you mulling wine there?" "Law, sir! Wine! I be making Eliza a drop o' thin arrowroot; she thought she could sup a spoonful or two. She has had nothing all day, poor thing! and you said she was to be kept up."