But the dark, mesmeric eyes held her gaze with a luring power; the warm, soft hand that clasped her own, sent strange thrills of tingling sweetness through every nerve. When she had looked at the dark, handsome, smiling face once she liked to look at it again. She forgot to feel afraid of him. They were standing on the border of the lake. The moonlight made it shine like a sheet of silver; but Bertram Chesleigh had no eyes for its beauty while the fair, fresh face of that innocent girl was lifted to his. He said to himself that in all his life he had never seen anyone half so lovely. "And you are not a ghost, after all?" he said. "No; I was only masquerading," she replied. "I did it to frighten my cousins and spoil their party. Do you think I have succeeded?" she inquired, with _naive_ anxiety. He looked a little surprised. "I do not know, I am sure," he said. "Why did you wish to spoil their pleasure?" "Because they would not invite me to go, and said cruel things to me, besides," answered Golden, with a heaving breast. "Why would they not invite you?" he inquired, more surprised than ever. "Elinor said I was _too young_, but I should sooner think that grandpa guessed the true reason!" she replied with innocent frankness. "What did grandpa guess?" he inquired. "They were afraid for Uncle John's rich guest to see me. They mean to marry him to Elinor," she replied, readily, and without a suspicion that it was the "rich guest" himself who held her small hand that moment so warmly and tightly in his own. Bertram Chesleigh laughed long and merrily, and the little girl awoke to a sense of her imprudence. "Oh? I should not have talked to you so," she cried. "They will be very angry. Oh, please don't tell anyone I was the ghost! Grandpa would scold me, and I could not bear that." At that moment the murmur of voices and laughter was borne to them on the breeze from the hall door. "Your friends are coming to look for you," she cried. "Oh! _do_ let go my hand. I must hide myself. You will not betray my secret?" "No; I will keep it faithfully, Golden," he replied, then he kissed her small hand and released her, for he did not wish his friends to find him with her. She darted away like a bird, and hid herself in the shrubbery. The young man lighted a cigar and turned back to meet his friends. "Did you catch the ghost? Did you kiss her?" they asked him, eagerly. "I was never so outwitted in my life," he replied. "Would you believe it if I should tell you that I pursued her across the lawn to the border of the lake, and that just as I might have touched her with my hand she sprang into the water and not a ripple on the surface showed where she had gone down?" This clever and non-committal reply was accepted as a statement of facts by the credulous. The romantic story spread from one to another rapidly.