d
arrived--with perfect good nature--at the conclusion that it had been a
failure.

"The dinner was excellent," said the Squire, "but the wine went round
too slow; my glasses were empty half the time. That's always the way
when you've a woman at the helm. She never fills her cellars properly,
or trusts her butler thoroughly."

"The dresses were lovely," said Mrs. Tempest, "but everyone looked
bored. How did you like my dress, Edward? I think it's rather good
style. Theodore will charge me horribly for it, I daresay."

"I don't know much about your dress, Pam, but you were the prettiest
woman in the room."

"Oh Edward, at my age!" exclaimed Mrs. Tempest, with a pleased look,
"when there was that lovely Lady Mabel Ashbourne."

"Do you call her lovely?--I don't. Lips too thin; waist too slim; too
much blood, and too little flesh."

"Oh, but surely, Edward, she is grace itself; quite an ethereal
creature. If Violet had more of that relined air----"

"Heaven forbid. Vixen is worth twenty such fine-drawn misses. Lady
Mabel has been spoiled by over-training."

"Roderick is evidently in love with her," suggested Mrs. Tempest,
pouring out another cup of tea.

The clocks had just struck two, the household was at rest, the logs
blazed and cracked merrily, the red light shining on those mail-clad
effigies in the corners, lighting up helm and hauberk, glancing on
greaves and gauntlets. It was an hour of repose and gossip which the
Squire dearly loved.

Hush! what is this creeping softly down the old oak staircase? A
slender white figure with cloudy hair; a small pale face, and two dark
eyes shining with excitement; little feet in black velvet slippers
tripping lightly upon the polished oak.

Is it a ghost? No; ghosts are noiseless, and those little slippers
descend from stair to stair with a gentle pit-a-pit.

"Bless my soul and body!" cried the Squire; "what's this?"

A gush of girlish laughter was his only answer.

"Vixen!"

"Did you take me for a ghost, papa?" cried Violet, descending the last
five stairs with a flying leap, and then, bounding across the hall to
perch, light as a bird, upon her father's knee. "Did I really frighten
you? Did you think the good old Abbey House was going to set up a
family ghost; a white lady, with a dismal history of a broken heart?
You darling papa! I hope you took me for a ghost!"

"Well, upon my word, you know, Vixen, I was just the least bit
staggered. Your little white fi