He did his best to
interest her, and failed so signally that he got up and left in disgust.

Grace sat still and watched the door. Half an hour
passed--three-quarters, and then her brother re-entered alone. She went
up to him at once, but his unreadable face told nothing.

"Well," she asked, anxiously, "how is Margery?"

"Restored and asleep."

"Does she really think she saw a ghost?"

"She really does, and was frightened into fits."

"Whose ghost was it?"

"My dear Grace," said the Doctor, "have sense. I believe the foolish old
woman mentioned some name to Miss Danton, but I never repeat nonsense.
She is in her dotage, I dare say, and sees double."

"Margery is no more in her dotage than you are," said Grace, vexed.
"Perhaps she is not the only one who has seen the ghost of Danton Hall."

"Grace! What do you mean?"

"Excuse me, Doctor Frank, I never talk nonsense. You can keep your
professional secrets; I'll find out from Margery all the same. Here is
the Captain; he looks better than when he went out. Where is Kate?"

"With Margery. She won't be left alone."

As she spoke, Rose came up, her brightest smiles in full play.

"I have been searching for you everywhere, Doctor Frank. You ought to be
sent to Coventry. Don't you know you engaged me for the German, and here
you stand talking to Grace. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir."

"So I am," said the Doctor. "Adieu, Grace. Pardon this once,
Mademoiselle, and for the remainder of the evening, for the remainder of
my life, I am entirely at your service."

Grace kept her station at the door watching for Kate. In another half
hour she appeared, slightly pale, but otherwise tranquil. She was
surrounded immediately by sundry "ginger-whiskered fellows," otherwise
the officers from Montreal, and lost to the housekeeper's view.

The house-warming was a success. Somewhere in the big, busy world
perhaps, crime, and misery, and shame, and sorrow, and starvation, and
all the catalogue of earthly horrors, were rife, but not at Danton Hall.
Time trod on flowers; enchanted music drifted the bright hours away; the
golden side of life was uppermost; and if those gay dancers knew what
tears and trouble meant, their faces never showed it. Kate, with her
tranquil and commanding beauty, wore a face as serene as a summer's sky;
and her father playing whist, was laughing until all around laughed in
sympathy. No, there could be no hidden skeleton, or the masks those wor