"I shall call, of course," the mother said; "and I don't want to hear anything about dragons. I am one too, I suppose. Thank you, Oona, for telling me. I should not like to be wanting in politeness. Your mother will be going to-morrow, I shouldn't wonder? Well, we shall go the next day, girls. Erradeen marches with Ellermore, and I know your father wishes to pay every respect." "I suppose when you're a lord," said Tom, who was very far down in the family, and of no account, "you can go upon a rule of your own; but it would be far greater fun for Erradeen if he would mix himself up more with other people. Did anybody ever find out who that fellow was that was staying with him? Braithwaite thought he must be something very fine indeed--a foreign prince, or that sort. He said such a fellow couldn't be English without being well known. It seems he knew everybody, and everything you could think of. A tremendous swell, according to Braithwaite. Oona, who was he? you ought to know." At this all eyes turned to Oona, who grew red in spite of herself. "I have no way of knowing," she said. "I saw such a person once--but I never heard who he was." "I am not superstitious," said Mrs. Campbell, "but there are people seen about that old castle that--make your blood run cold. No, I never saw anything myself; but your father says----" "My father never met this fellow," cried Tom. "He wasn't a fellow to make any mistake about. Neither old nor young--oh, yes, oldish: between forty and fifty; as straight as a rod, with eyes that go through and through you; and a voice--I think Erradeen himself funks him. Yes, I do. He turned quite white when he heard his voice." "There are all kinds of strange stories about that old castle," said one of the Campbell sisters in an explanatory tone, addressing Julia. "You must not be astonished if you hear of unearthly lights, and some dreadful ordeal the heir has to go through, and ghosts of every description." "I wish, Jeanie," said Tom, "when a fellow asks a question, that you would not break in with your nonsense. Who is talking of ghosts? I am asking who a fellow was--a very fine gentleman, I can tell you; something you don't see the like of often----" The young man was much offended by his sister's profanity. He went to the door with Oona, fuming. "These girls never understand," he said; "they make a joke of everything. This was one of the grandest fellows I ever saw--and then they come in with their rubbish about ghosts!" "Never mind," Oona said, giving him her hand. The conversation somehow had been more than she herself could bear, and she had come away with a sense of perplexity and indignation. Tom, who was hot and indignant too, was more in sympathy with her than the others who talked about ghosts, which made her angry she could scarcely tell why.