"And how about yourself, sir?"

"Oh, my address for the next few months will be Hotel di Roma, Venice.
Just see that the letters are sent on. And tell Stevens to exhibit all
the purple chrysanthemums next Monday, and to wire me the result."

The Terror of Blue John Gap

The following narrative was found among the papers of Dr. James
Hardcastle, who died of phthisis on February 4th, 1908, at 36, Upper
Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew him best, while
refusing to express an opinion upon this particular statement, are
unanimous in asserting that he was a man of a sober and scientific turn
of mind, absolutely devoid of imagination, and most unlikely to invent
any abnormal series of events. The paper was contained in an envelope,
which was docketed, "A Short Account of the Circumstances which
occurred near Miss Allerton's Farm in North-West Derbyshire in the
Spring of Last Year." The envelope was sealed, and on the other side
was written in pencil--

DEAR SEATON,--

"It may interest, and perhaps pain you, to know that the incredulity
with which you met my story has prevented me from ever opening my mouth
upon the subject again. I leave this record after my death, and
perhaps strangers may be found to have more confidence in me than my
friend."

Inquiry has failed to elicit who this Seaton may have been. I may add
that the visit of the deceased to Allerton's Farm, and the general
nature of the alarm there, apart from his particular explanation, have
been absolutely established. With this foreword I append his account
exactly as he left it. It is in the form of a diary, some entries in
which have been expanded, while a few have been erased.

April 17.--Already I feel the benefit of this wonderful upland air.
The farm of the Allertons lies fourteen hundred and twenty feet above
sea-level, so it may well be a bracing climate. Beyond the usual
morning cough I have very little discomfort, and, what with the fresh
milk and the home-grown mutton, I have every chance of putting on
weight. I think Saunderson will be pleased.

The two Miss Allertons are charmingly quaint and kind, two dear little
hard-working old maids, who are ready to lavish all the heart which
might have gone out to husband and to children upon an invalid
stranger. Truly, the old maid is a most useful person, one of the
reserve forces of the community. They talk of the superfluous woman,
but what would the poor superfl