She would be inconspicuous so attired, and could slip away when fatigued.

So, when the evening came, she assumed a close-fitting sheath-like dress of black satin, in which her spare figure would occupy the least possible space, even when covered by the domino. She would not venture down till the dancing was well begun, but the right moment would find her ready and the headache cured.

Noyes hated the whole business, but had so far fallen under his wife's domination that he was prepared to play his part in the drama. He took the opportunity to acquaint himself with the special flirtation nook she had indicated, to which he was expected to lead his partner. It could not have been better arranged for Flossie's purpose. A large Chesterfield settee was placed across the corner, backed by an apparent grove of tall palms and evergreens, which masked the door into a side-passage. This door was not to be used in the service of the night, as the passage did not lead to the kitchens, and indeed communicated only with the gun-room and a side staircase. Flossie would do her part, there was no doubt of that: it only remained for him to act up to the role for which he was cast, and whisper to a lady psychically interested some thrilling particulars about an imagined ghost.

He foresaw difficulty. The American bride was curious, but she was also an indefatigable dancer, and determined to enjoy herself to the full. Would she be tempted into that retirement, even by a hinted confidence as to ghosts seen at Dunowe?

Caryl was in wild spirits when the hour arrived, enchanted with the effect of her old-world costume, now completed with the heirloom pearls, and a quaint harp-shaped brooch which also figured in the picture. Her hair was dressed after the fashion of Lady Sibell's portrait, and Caryl made the painted lady a mock courtesy as she passed her in the gallery.

"No, you mustn't say you know me," she said laughing to her intimates. "I'm not Caryl MacIvor tonight, or Noel's wife. I'm his lady-ancestress instead." And then, in a following whisper: "I doubt if the dear old mater really approves of the travesty, though she would not interfere to spoil my fun. You know she's very superstitious, and in dressing up as Lady Sibell I strongly suspect I'm also impersonating the ghost."

The Dunowe dance being an impromptu, there were no printed programmes; but those who had pockets—only the men had pockets—carried cards in them, and little stubs of pencils. In this way Noyes had Caryl's name down for Number Four, but when he came to claim it, that young person seemed to be deeply engaged with another partner.

"Do you really want to dance with me?" she queried. "Because I'm enjoying myself very much with Freddy." (Freddy was one of the "guns.")

"I do really want this dance, and you know you promised. If you wish, I'll let you off the other; but do try me first."

She yielded, and they swung off together on the well waxed floor.

"I know I valse badly," he said presently, "and I am unpractised in the new steps. What I really want is to get you to sit out with me. I have something to tell you: it's—it's about a ghost. I have just had a horrible experience, and you'll be the first to hear of it: I have told nobody else. We shall get the hall to ourselves—for five minutes—if you don't mind coming this way."

"About the ghost?" There was quickened interest in her repetition of his words: his fish was rising to the fly. And perhaps she was not wholly unwilling to cut short her gyrations with an unskilled partner.

"You'll be comfortable sitting here, and that other fellow won't think of looking for you behind this screen. I really want to consult you—ask your advice. For I've had the fright of my life this afternoon."

She sank down on the soft cushions, leaning well back, which was what Flossie wished. As he took his seat beside her, he heard a slight rustle in the bower of foliage at the back of the couch, and it did not help to steady his nerves.

"I suppose it would not do to say anything to Sir Ian. My first idea, of course, was that it was a real man. A fellow with bad intentions, and no business where he was. In short, a burglar."

"A burglar—in broad daylight!"

"Ghosts are not supposed to like daylight, are they, any more than burglars? Though I know next to nothing of the habits of ghosts. But the daylight wasn't—wasn't broad."

Noyes felt he was floundering, and wondered what Flossie would think of his efforts at narration, in her hiding-place at the back.

"I mean it was getting dark—dusk, you know. If it hadn't been, I could not have seen the flame so distinctly. Yes, there seemed to be a flame about him, or at least a light.