"Wasn't it silly of me to think of the Barber's ghost--especially as it only appears when some disaster happens to the Warden? I mean that is the story. Now the Warden is perfectly well this morning, I particularly asked, though I knew he would be, of course. Now, if there had been a real ghost, he ought to die to-day, or perhaps to-morrow. Isn't it all funny?" Then, as there came another pause, Gwendolen added, "I suppose it couldn't mean that he might die in a week's time--or six months perhaps?" and her voice was a little anxious. "Death isn't the only disaster," said May, "that can happen to a man." "Don't you think it's about the worst?" said Gwen. "Worse even than losing lots of money. You see, if you are once dead, there you are! But I needn't bother--there was no ghost." "No, there was no ghost," said Mrs. Dashwood, and she laid her paper down on a side table. Gwen felt that she had not had a fair chance of a talk. In the absence of anybody really young it was some comfort to talk to Mrs. Dashwood. She much preferred Mrs. Dashwood to Lady Dashwood. Lady Dashwood was sometimes "nasty," since that letter affair. Fortunately she had not been able to _do_ anything nasty. She had not been able to make the Warden nasty. Gwen stood watching May, and then said in a low voice to detain her: "I wish mother would come!" "Do you expect her?" asked May, turning round and facing the girl. "I do and I don't and I do," said Gwen. "That sounds jolly vague, I know, and please don't even say to Lady Dashwood that I mentioned it. You won't, will you? It jumped out of my mouth. Things do sometimes." May smiled a little. "Mother is so plucky," said Gwen; "I'm sure you'd like her--you really would, and she would like you. She doesn't by any means like everybody. She's very particular, but I think she would like you." May smiled again, and this gave Gwen complete confidence. "Our relations, you know, have really been a bit stingy," she said. "Too bad, isn't it, and there's been a bother about my education. Of course, mother needn't have sent me to school at all, only she's so keen on doing all she can for me, much more keen than our relations have been. Why, would you believe it, Uncle Ted, my father's youngest brother, who is a parson in Essex, has been saving! What I mean is that the Scotts ain't a bit well off--isn't it hard lines? You see I tell you all this, I wouldn't to anybody else. Well, Uncle Ted had saved for years for his only son--for Eton and Oxford: I don't think he'd ever given mother a penny. Wasn't that rather hard luck on mother?" May said "Oh!" in a tone that was neutral.