t of the place!"

"Perhaps if I had been familiar with it from childhood, that might have
disabled me from feeling the spirit of it, for then might it not have
looked to me as it looked to those in whose time such gardens were the
fashion? Two things are necessary--first, that there should be a spirit
in a place, and next that the place should be seen by one whose spirit
is capable of giving house-room to its spirit.--By the way, does the
ghost-lady feel the place all right?"

"I am not sure that I know what you mean; but I felt the grass with her
feet as I read, and the wind lifting my hair. I seemed to know exactly
how she felt!"

"Now tell me, were you ever a ghost?"

"No," she answered, looking in his face like a child--without even a
smile.

"Did you ever see a ghost?"

"No, never."

"Then how should you know how a ghost would feel?"

"I see! I cannot answer you."

Donal rose.

"I am indeed ashamed!" said lady Arctura.

"Ashamed of giving me the chance of proving myself a true man?"

"That, at least, is no longer necessary!"

"But I want my revenge. As a punishment for doubting one whom you had
so little ground for believing, you shall be compelled to see the
proof--that is, if you will do me the favour to wait here till I come
back. I shall not be long, though it is some distance to the top of
Baliol's tower."

"Davie told me your room was there: do you not find it cold? It must be
very lonely! I wonder why mistress Brookes put you there!"

Donal assured her he could not have had a place more to his mind, and
before she could well think he had reached the foot of his stair, was
back with a roll of papers, which he laid on the table.

"There!" he said, opening it out; "if you will take the trouble to go
over these, you may read the growth of the poem. Here first you see it
blocked out rather roughly, and much blotted with erasures and
substitutions. Here next you see the result copied--clean to begin
with, but afterwards scored and scored. You see the words I chose
instead of the first, and afterwards in their turn rejected, until in
the proofs I reached those which I have as yet let stand. I do not
fancy Miss Graeme has any doubt the verses are mine, for it was plain
she thought them rubbish. From your pains to know who wrote them, I
believe you do not think so badly of them!"

She thought he was satirical, and gave a slight sigh as of pain. It
went to his heart.

"I did not mean the small