He didn't believe in it, but his wife did, it appeared perfectly, when he mentioned this conversation while, in the fashion that has been described, the visitors dressed for dinner. Mrs. Coyle had already discovered that nothing could have been nastier than Miss Julian's manner to the disgraced youth during the half-hour the party had spent in the hall; and it was this lady's judgment that one must have had no eyes in one's head not to see that she was already trying outrageously to flirt with young Lechmere. It was a pity they had brought that silly boy: he was down in the hall with her at that moment. Spencer Coyle's version was different; he thought there were finer elements involved. The girl's footing in the house was inexplicable on any ground save that of her being predestined to Miss Wingrave's nephew. As the niece of Miss Wingrave's own unhappy intended she had been dedicated early by this lady to the office of healing by a union with Owen the tragic breach that had separated their elders; and if in reply to this it was to be said that a girl of spirit couldn't enjoy in such a matter having her duty cut out for her, Owen's enlightened friend was ready with the argument that a young person in Miss Julian's position would never be such a fool as really to quarrel with a capital chance. She was familiar at Paramore and she felt safe; therefore she might trust herself to the amusement of pretending that she had her option. But it was all innocent coquetry. She had a curious charm, and it was vain to pretend that the heir of that house wouldn't seem good enough to a girl, clever as she might be, of eighteen. Mrs. Coyle reminded her husband that the poor young man was precisely now _not_ of that house: this problem was among the questions that exercised their wits after the two men had taken the turn on the terrace. Spencer Coyle told his wife that Owen was afraid of the portrait of his great-great-grandfather. He would show it to her, since she hadn't noticed it, on their way down stairs. "Why of his great-great-grandfather more than of any of the others?" "Oh, because he's the most formidable. He's the one who's sometimes seen." "Seen where?" Mrs. Coyle had turned round with a jerk. "In the room he was found dead in--the White Room they've always called it." "Do you mean to say the house has a _ghost_?" Mrs. Coyle almost shrieked. "You brought me here without telling me?" "Didn't I mention it after my other visit?" "Not a word. You only talked about Miss Wingrave." "Oh, I was full of the story--you have simply forgotten." "Then you should have reminded me!" "If I had thought of it I would have held my peace, for you wouldn't have come." "I wish, indeed, I hadn't!" cried Mrs. Coyle. "What _is_ the story?"