by talking of the Imp. He looked up toward
Merrion and saw the lights in the windows.

"I think Mina is with us for life, Cecily," said he.

"I like her to be," she answered with a laugh. "First because I like
being loved, and she loves me. And then I like you to be loved, and she
loves you. Besides, she's been so closely mixed up with it all, hasn't
she? She knew about you before I did, she knew Blent before I did. And
it's not only with you and me. She knew your mother, Addie Tristram,
too."

"Yes, Mina goes right back to the beginning of the thing."

"And the thing, as you call it, is what brought us here together. So
Mina seems to have had something to do with that too. It all comes back
to me when I look at her, and I like to have her here."

"Well, she's part of the family story now. And she'll probably keep a
journal and make entries about us, like the late Mr Cholderton, and some
day be edited by a future Mr Neeld. Mina must stop, that's clear."

"It's clear anyhow--because nothing would make her go," said Cecily.

"Let's go up the hill and see her now?" he suggested.

Together they climbed the hill and reached the terrace. There were
people in the drawing-room, and Harry signed to Cecily to keep out of
sight. They approached stealthily.

"Who's with her? I didn't know anyone was staying here," whispered
Cecily.

Harry turned his face toward her, smiling. "Hush, it's old Neeld!"

They peeped in. Neeld was sitting in an arm-chair with some sheets of
paper in his hand. He had his spectacles on and apparently had been
reading something aloud to Mina; indeed they heard his voice die away
just as they came up. Mina stood in front of him, her manner full of her
old excitement.

"Yes, that's it, that's just right!" they heard her exclaim. "She stood
in the middle of the room and"--Harry pressed his wife's hand and
laughed silently--"she cried out just what you've read. I remember
exactly how she looked and the very words that Mr Cholderton uses.
'Think of the difference it makes, the enormous difference!' she said.
Oh, it might have been yesterday, Mr Neeld!"

Harry leapt over the window-sill and burst into the room with a laugh.

"Oh, you dear silly people, you're at it again!" said he.

"The story does not lose its interest for me," remarked old Mr Neeld
primly, and he added, as he greeted Cecily, "It won't so long as I can
look at your face, my dear. You keep Addie Tristram still alive for me."

"