"Aunt Octavia approaches, and I must be off. But that ghost, Mr. Chimney-Man,--when you find him, please let me know. There are a lot of things I want to ask some reliable ghost about the hereafter." With this she fled, and I heard the front door close smartly after her. An instant later Miss Octavia appeared and asked solicitously how I liked my omelette. "The coachman has been telling me a capital ghost-story. He believes them to be beneficent and declares that he will under no circumstances leave my employment." She sat down and folded her arms upon the table. For the first time I believed that she was serious. There was, in fact, a troubled look on her sweet, whimsical face. It occurred to me that the loss of her servants was not really the slight matter she had previously made of it. "Mr. Ames, will you pardon me for asking you a question of the most intimate character? It is only after much hesitation that I do so." I bowed encouragingly, my curiosity fully aroused. "You may ask me anything in the world, Miss Hollister." "Then I wish you would tell me whether,--I can't express the dislike I feel in doing this,--but can you tell me whether you have seen in the hands of my niece Cecilia a small--a very small, silver-backed note-book." "Yes, I have," I answered, greatly surprised. "And may I ask whether,--and again I must plead my deep concern as an excuse for making such an inquiry,--whether you by any chance saw her making any notation in that book?" I recalled the silver-bound book perfectly, but had attached no importance to it; but if Cecilia's fortunes were so intimately related to it as Miss Hollister's manner implied, I felt that I must be careful of my answer. I was trying to recall the precise moment at which I had entered the library the preceding evening after Hume's departure, and while I was intent upon this my silence must have been prolonged. I felt obliged to make an answer of some sort, and yet I did not relish the thought of conveying information that might distress and embarrass a noble girl like Cecilia Hollister. Something in my face must have conveyed a hint of this inner conflict to Miss Hollister, for she rose suddenly, holding up her hand as though to silence me. She seemed deeply moved, and cried in agitation:-- "Do not answer me! The question was quite unfair,--quite unfair,--and yet I assure you that at the moment I made the inquiry, I felt justified." She retreated toward the door as I rose; and then with her composure fully restored she courtesied gracefully. "Luncheon here will be a buffet affair to-day, as I shall be engaged with matters of pastry. I'm sure, however, that you will find employment until dinner-time, when my house will be fully in order again."