ming, passing quickly over the sunshine and gayety of her face as
she saluted us. The next moment she was on her feet again, inquiring
"who the wonderful man was who built The Glen Tower," and wanting to go
all over it immediately from top to bottom.

As we took her into the house, I made the necessary apologies for the
miserable condition of the lean-to, and assured her that, ten days
later, she would have found it perfectly ready to receive her.
She whisked into the rooms--looked all round them--whisked out
again--declared she had come to live in the old Tower, and not in any
modern addition to it, and flatly declined to inhabit the lean-to on any
terms whatever. I opened my lips to state certain objections, but she
slipped away in an instant and made straight for the Tower staircase.

"Who lives here?" she asked, calling down to us, eagerly, from the
first-floor landing.

"I do," said Owen; "but, if you would like me to move out--"

She was away up the second flight before he could say any more. The next
sound we heard, as we slowly followed her, was a peremptory drumming
against the room door of the second story.

"Anybody here?" we heard her ask through the door.

I called up to her that, under ordinary circumstances, I was there; but
that, like Owen, I should be happy to move out--

My polite offer was cut short as my brother's had been. We heard more
drumming at the door of the third story. There were two rooms here
also--one perfectly empty, the other stocked with odds and ends of
dismal, old-fashioned furniture for which we had no use, and grimly
ornamented by a life-size basket figure supporting a complete suit of
armor in a sadly rusty condition. When Owen and I got to the third-floor
landing, the door was open; Miss Jessie had taken possession of the
rooms; and we found her on a chair, dusting the man in armor with her
cambric pocket-handkerchief.

"I shall live here," she said, looking round at us briskly over her
shoulder.

We both remonstrated, but it was quite in vain. She told us that she had
an impulse to live with the man in armor, and that she would have
her way, or go back immediately in the post-chaise, which we pleased.
Finding it impossible to move her, we bargained that she should, at
least, allow the new bed and the rest of the comfortable furniture
in the lean-to to be moved up into the empty room for her sleeping
accommodation. She consented to this condition, protesting, however,