he signalled out the head footman and raved at him. Up to
this point Mr. Whittingen had been dumb with amazement. The idea of a
strange piper having the twofold effrontery to enter his house and
proceed to the private and chaste sanctuary of his highly respectable
daughters, almost deprived him of breath. He could scarcely believe
his ears. "What--what in the name of--what does it all mean?" he at
length stammered, addressing the unfortunate footman. "A piper! and
without any invitation from me, how dare you let him in?"

"I did not, sir," the luckless footman replied; "no such person came
to the door when I was in the hall."

"No more he did when I was there," chimed in the second footman, and
all the other servants vociferated in a body, "We never saw any piper,
sir, nor heard one either," and they looked at Mary reproachfully.

At this Mr. Whittingen looked exceedingly embarrassed. In the face of
such a unanimous denial what could he say? He knew if he suggested
the servants were untruthful they would all give notice to leave on
the spot, and knowing good servants are scarce in Perth as elsewhere,
he felt rather in a fix. At length, turning to Mary, he asked if she
was sure it was a piper. "Sure!" Mary screamed, "why, of course I am,
did I not tell you he marched up and down here playing on his
disgusting bagpipes, which nearly broke the drum of my ear."

"And I saw him too, pa," Martha put in. "I met him in the corridor, he
had his pipes under his arm, and the most dreadful expression in his
face. I don't wonder Mary was frightened."

"But where did he go?" Mr. Whittingen cried.

"You would not believe me if I told you," Martha said, her cheeks
flushing. "He seemed to pass right through me, and then to vanish
through the staircase window. I have never been so terribly upset in
my life," and, sinking on to the sofa, she began to laugh
hysterically.

"Dear me! dear me! it is very odd!" Mr. Whittingen exclaimed, as Mary
handed her sister a wineglass of sal-volatile. "They can't both have
been dreaming; it must--but there, what a nonsensical notion, there
are no such things as ghosts! Only children and nursemaids believe in
them nowadays. As soon as you have quite recovered, my dears, we will
return to the garden, and I think that under the circumstances, the
rather peculiar circumstances, ahem! it will be better to say nothing
to your mother. Do you understand?" Mr. Whittingen went on, eyeing the
servants, "Not