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could have stood, and thanked you for it, and considered it in the rent. But a ghost that bullets go through while it stands grinning with a bare neck and its head loose under its own arm and little boys screaming and fainting in their beds⁠—no! What I say is, if this is a British hereditary high-toned family ghost, excuse me!’ And he went off by the early train.”

“I say,” the stricken Jimmy remarked, “I am sorry, and I don’t think we did faint, really I don’t⁠—but we thought it would be just what you wanted. And perhaps someone else will take the house.”

“I don’t know anyone else rich enough,” said Lord Yalding. “Mr. Conway came the day before he said he would, or you’d never have got hold of him. And I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t want to know. It was a rather silly trick.”

There was a gloomy pause. The rain beat against the long windows.

“I say”⁠—Jimmy looked up at Lord Yalding with the light of a new idea in his round face “I say, if you’re hard up, why don’t you sell your jewels?”

“I haven’t any jewels, you meddlesome young duffer,” said Lord Yalding quite crossly; and taking his hands out of his pockets, he began to walk away.

“I mean the ones in the panelled room with the stars in the ceiling,” Jimmy insisted, following him.

“There aren’t any,” said Lord Yalding shortly; “and if this is some more ring-nonsense I advise you to be careful, young man. I’ve had about as much as I care for.”

“It’s not ring-nonsense,” said Jimmy: “there are shelves and shelves of beautiful family jewels. You can sell them and⁠—”

“Oh, no!” cried Mademoiselle, appearing like an oleograph of a duchess in the door of the picture-gallery; “don’t sell the family jewels⁠—”

“There aren’t any, my lady,” said Lord Yalding, going towards her. “I thought you were never coming.”

“Oh, aren’t there!” said Mabel, who had followed Mademoiselle. “You just come and see.”

“Let us see what they will to show us,” cried Mademoiselle, for Lord Yalding did not move; “it should at least be amusing.”

“It is,” said Jimmy.

So they went, Mabel and Jimmy leading, while Mademoiselle and Lord Yalding followed, hand in hand.

“It’s much safer to walk hand in hand,” said Lord Yalding; “with these children at large one never knows what may happen next.”

XII

It would be interesting, no doubt, to describe the feelings of Lord Yalding as he followed Mabel and Jimmy through his ancestral halls, but I have no means of knowing at all what he felt. Yet one must suppose that he felt something: bewilderment, perhaps, mixed with a faint wonder, and a desire to pinch himself to see if he were dreaming. Or he may have pondered the rival questions, “Am I mad? Are they mad?” without being at all able to decide which he ought to try to answer, let alone deciding what, in either case, the answer ought to be. You see, the children did seem to believe in the odd stories they told⁠—and the wish had come true, and the ghost had appeared. He must have thought⁠—but all this is vain; I don’t really know what he thought any more than you do.

Nor can I give you any clue to the thoughts and feelings of Mademoiselle. I only know that she was very happy, but anyone would have known that if they had seen her face. Perhaps this is as good a moment as any to explain that when her guardian had put her in a convent so that she should not sacrifice her fortune by marrying a poor lord, her guardian had secured that fortune (to himself) by going off with it to South America. Then, having no money left, Mademoiselle had to work for it. So she went out as governess, and took the situation she did take because it was near Lord Yalding’s home. She wanted to see him, even though she thought he had forsaken her and did not love her any more. And now she had seen him. I dare say she thought about some of these things as she went along through his house, her hand held in his. But of course I can’t be sure.

Jimmy’s thoughts, of course, I can read like any old book. He thought, “Now he’ll have to believe me.” That Lord Yalding should believe him had become, quite unreasonably, the most important thing in the world to Jimmy. He wished that Gerald and Kathleen were there to share his triumph, but they were helping Mabel’s aunt to cover the grand furniture up, and so were out of what followed. Not that they missed much, for when Mabel proudly said, “Now you’ll see,” and the others came close round her in the little panelled room, there was a pause, and then nothing happened at all!

“There’s a secret spring here somewhere,” said Mabel, fumbling with fingers that had suddenly grown hot and damp.

“Where?” said Lord Yalding.

“Here,” said Mabel impatiently, “only I can’t find it.”

And she couldn’t. She found the spring of the secret panel under the window all right, but that seemed to everyone dull compared with the jewels that everyone had pictured and two at least had seen. But the spring that made the oak panelling slide away and displayed jewels plainly to any eye worth a king’s ransom⁠—this could not be found. More, it was simply not there. There could be no doubt of that. Every inch of the panelling was felt by careful fingers. The earnest protests of Mabel and Jimmy died away presently in a silence made painful by the hotness of one’s ears, the discomfort of not liking to meet anyone’s eyes, and the resentful feeling that the spring was not behaving in at all a sportsmanlike way, and that, in a word, this was not cricket.

“You see!” said Lord Yalding severely. “Now you’ve had your joke, if you call it a joke, and I’ve had

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