emember
that she died at the very height of her beauty alone and in a foreign
land. But I have not answered your question. Were she and the judge
happy together? I have never heard to the contrary, ma'am. I'm sure he
mourned her faithfully enough. Some think that her loss killed him. He
did not survive her more than three years."

"The children do not favor her much," said I, "but I see an expression
now and then in Lucetta which reminds me of her mother."

"They are all Knollys," said she. "Even William has traits which, with a
few more brains back of them, would remind you of his grandfather, who
was the plainest of his race."

I was glad that the talk had reverted to William.

"He seems to lack heart, as well as brains," I said. "I marvel that his
sisters put up with him as well as they do."

"They cannot help it. He is not a fellow to be fooled with. Besides, he
holds third share in the house. If they could sell it! But, deary me,
who would buy an old tumble-down place like that, on a road you cannot
get folks who have any consideration for their lives to enter for love
or money? But excuse me, ma'am; I forgot that you are living just now on
that very road. I'm sure I beg a thousand pardons."

"I am living there as a guest," I returned. "I have nothing to do with
its reputation--except to brave it."

"A courageous thing to do, ma'am, and one that may do the road some
good. If you can spend a month with the Knollys girls and come out of
their house at the end as hale and hearty as you entered it, it will be
the best proof possible that there is less to be feared there than some
people think. I shall be glad if you can do it, ma'am, for I like the
girls and would be glad to have the reputation of the place restored."

"Pshaw!" was my final comment. "The credulity of the town has had as
much to do with its loss as they themselves. That educated people such
as I see here should believe in ghosts!"

I say final, for at this moment the good lady, springing up, put an end
to our conversation. She had just seen a buggy pass the window.

"It's Mr. Trohm," she exclaimed. "Ma'am, if you wish to return home
before Mr. Simsbury comes back you may be able to do so with this
gentleman. He's a most obliging man, and lives less than a quarter of a
mile from the Misses Knollys."

I did not say I had already met the gentleman. Why, I do not know. I
only drew myself up and waited with some small inner perturbation for
the