“I have not seen Mr. Delaney at any public gathering or church for several years before,” continued Mr. Rodney. “He is one of the most inveterate recluses I ever heard of. His presence in the church must have been intended as a special mark of respect and compliment to Effie.” “But, papa, we have none of us the least acquaintance with him,” said the bride. “No matter. He is our next door neighbor. I have no doubt but he attended the wedding out of respect to us,” insisted Mr. Rodney. “For my part, I cannot imagine how he ever found out about the marriage,” said Mrs. Rodney. “He never goes out, and no one is ever seen going in. It is quite too bad that Mr. Delaney does not marry, and give his grand old house a mistress. She would lead society in Chester--that is, if she would condescend so far, which is not likely, the Delaneys being proverbially proud.” Mr. Lane having adroitly turned the conversation into the channel he wished, listened eagerly, just throwing in a word here and there until he had elicited all that there was to tell, or, at least, all that was known of the taciturn master of Delaney House. To that part which related to the alleged ghosts that haunted Delaney House, he listened with a great deal of interest. “Since you have named it, I will relate my own experience,” he said. “Last night I supposed you would laugh at it. Now I see that you will not even be surprised.” “What is it?” they asked him in surprise. “It is only that I heard the ghost of Delaney House last night,” he replied. “You heard it!” they echoed, and Dr. Anthony asked, gravely: “When?” “It was last night when I went out on the pavement to smoke my cigar. I strolled down the street a little way, and was suddenly brought to a dead stop by the sound of a loud ringing shriek fearful enough to have proceeded from one of the denizens of Hades. I paused and looked up, for the sound had seemed to float in the air above me, and I found myself in front of Delaney House.” Every one was deeply interested--every one uttered some exclamation or another except Aline. She alone took no part in the conversation. She had not even looked around. She sat by the reading-lamp and was looking into a book, but Mr. Lane saw that she was turning its leaves quite at random and with strangely nervous hands. “Is her indifference real or feigned?” he asked himself. “The most of people would be interested in my story--why not Miss Rodney? Her sex are not usually deficient in curiosity.” “And you really heard the ghost, Mr. Lane?” cried Effie, with awe struck eyes. “Well, you have been more highly favored than we have! In all the years since we came to Chester we have never heard the reputed ghost.”