tterworth? Why
should I not have needed to ask?"

"Because you would have heard it whispered about in every lane and
corner. It is common talk in town to-day. You must know why, Miss
Knollys."

She was not looking out of the window now. She was looking at me.

"I assure you," she murmured, "I do not know at all. Nothing could be
more incomprehensible to me. Explain yourself, I entreat you. The
phantom coach is but a myth to me, interesting only as involving certain
long-vanished ancestors of mine."

"Of course," I assented. "No one of real sense could regard it in any
other light. But villagers will talk, and they say--you will soon know
what, if I do not tell you myself--that it passed through the lane on
Tuesday night."

"Tuesday night!" Her composure had been regained, but not so entirely
but that her voice slightly trembled. "That was before you came. I hope
it was not an omen."

I was in no mood for pleasantry.

"They say that the passing of this apparition denotes misfortune to
those who see it. I am therefore obviously exempt. But you--did you see
it? I am just curious to know if it is visible to those who live in the
lane. It ought to have turned in here. Were you fortunate enough to have
been awake at that moment and to have seen this spectral appearance?"

She shuddered. I was not mistaken in believing I saw this sign of
emotion, for I was watching her very closely, and the movement was
unmistakable.

"I have never seen anything ghostly in my life," said she. "I am not at
all superstitious."

If I had been ill-natured or if I had thought it wise to press her too
closely, I might have inquired why she looked so pale and trembled so
visibly.

But my natural kindness, together with an instinct of caution,
restrained me, and I only remarked:

"There you are sensible, Miss Knollys--doubly so as a denizen of this
house, which, Mrs. Carter was obliging enough to suggest to me, is
considered by many as haunted."

The straightening of Miss Knollys' lips augured no good to Mrs. Carter.

"Now I only wish it was," I laughed dryly. "I should really like to meet
a ghost, say, in your great drawing-room, which I am forbidden to
enter."

"You are not forbidden," she hastily returned. "You may explore it now
if you will excuse me from accompanying you; but you will meet no
ghosts. The hour is not propitious."

Taken aback by her sudden amenity, I hesitated for a moment. Would it be
worth while for me to