"Why, you see he thought that it might be an evil spirit taking his father's shape." "But if he had really _felt_ it, he must have known whether it was good or evil. Seeing a ghost isn't like seeing a person outside you. Didn't you know that the other day when you spoke of the only thing that could have helped--Guy Waynflete?" She flushed a deep crimson. There was something overwhelming to her in the conversation, and she could hardly speak. "That came into my mind," she said. "I never thought of it before." "But you believe it?" "Yes." The rain was ceasing, and the dusty, misty light grew clearer and more radiant. The waltz finished in a glow of sunshine. Somehow the ghost and his own condition went right out of Guy's head. He took Florella to eat peaches, and began to talk to her in a more ordinary way, while the strain of their previous intercourse lifted itself from her spirit. They felt quite intimate and at home with each other, so much so that Guy explained why he did not ask her to waltz again, quite simply and without effort, admitting that he had been told to be careful. It seemed quite natural to tell her what he had been unwilling to own to himself. He had hardly ever felt so happy, and when he was at ease, there was something sweet and bright in his face and manner which had a great charm. Constancy, who paid him a gratifying amount of attention, told herself many times that he was much more agreeable than his brother. Certainly Godfrey looked neither sweet nor bright. He danced with Jeanie because there was no occasion to make conversation for her, and glowered at Constancy, and when Guy, certainly in rather an off-hand way, told him of his visit to London, and of the doctor's opinion, he only looked savage, and said-- "You don't seem as if there was much the matter with you to-day;" an answer which Cuthbert thought brutal, but which did not strike Guy as at all singular. Godfrey had intended to say much to Guy about the advisability of coming to Waynflete, and taking his place as the elder brother, but he was unable to express it amiably, so his honourable scruples took the form of remarking-- "I can't think why you're such a fool as to annoy Aunt Waynflete by having Staunton with you. You ought to come over, and of course she doesn't want to see him." "I am not going to make myself absurd," said Guy, coldly. "What do I care who Staunton's great-grandfather was? He has been very kind to me." "There's a great deal in bad blood," said Godfrey, obstinately. "It's sure to come out. He'll come across you somehow." "There's not much to choose between our great-grandfathers," said Guy. "I'd just as soon have his as ours." The agreeable little discussion was interrupted, and Guy only laughed as Godfrey was called away. But it might have been a different person who said suddenly to Staunton, as they drove back to Ingleby in the moonlight--