"Please remember that you are Aunt Octavia's guest, and don't annoy her by failing to appear at dinner. You know you have n't fixed that chimney yet!" Her smile left me well in the air; I stood staring after the very commonplace cab as it rolled away with her, my mind a whirling chaos of emotion. The crowd jostled me impatiently; for other people, not breathing celestial ether from an hour of Cecilia Hollister's society, were bent upon the day's business. I set off at once for Pepperton's office, where I learned that the architect was out of town; but his chief clerk greeted me courteously. I told him frankly that I wanted to look at the plans of Hopefield Manor to enable me to learn the exact lines of the chimneys. He confessed surprise that they were causing trouble, and expressed regret that they were not in the office. "Miss Hollister sent for them this morning, and I have just given them to a young woman who bore a note from her. Ordinarily I should not have let them go, but the note was peremptory, and Miss Hollister is a friend of Mr. Pepperton's, you know, and a person I'm sure he would not refuse. We're at work now on plans for a cathedral she proposes building for the Bishop of Manila." I was not surprised that Octavia Hollister should be building cathedrals in the Orient,--I was beyond that,--but I was taken aback to find that she had anticipated me in my rush for the plans of her house. Clearly, I was dealing with a woman who was not only immensely amusing but exceedingly shrewd as well. Could it be possible after all that she was herself playing ghost merely for her own entertainment! She was capable of it; but I had satisfied myself that she could not have performed the tricks of which I had been the victim the night previous unless she possessed some rare vanishing power like that of the East Indian mystics. "May I ask who came for the plans?" "I judged the young woman to be a maid, or perhaps she was Miss Hollister's secretary." I had given little heed during my short stay at Hopefield Manor to Miss Hollister's personal attendant. I had passed her in the halls once or twice, a young woman of twenty-five, I should say, fair-haired and blue-eyed. She might herself be the ghost, now that I thought of it; but this seemed the most unlikely hypothesis possible,--and there was no difficulty in accounting for her flight to town, for there were many horses and vehicles in the Hopefield stable, and trains were frequent. "If there is anything further, Mr. Ames"-- I roused myself to find the chief clerk regarding me impatiently, and I thanked him and hurried away.