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Suddenly a match flared and the twinkling tip of light grew at a candle end and she saw a ghostly figure, its white hand busy with the candle wick and its hollow, black eyes fixed on the tiny growing flame. Instantly other matches flickered and more candles glimmered in ghostly fingers, until the room was flashing with tiny points of light, while the masses of heavy shadow trembled and surged about an array of white-clad, mysterious, skull-faced figures that slowly formed in line and, two by two, moved to the center of the room, chanting a low, monotonous song as they walked in solemn procession. "Which is, to marry Mr. David Sarby," said Etwald coolly. "In that case I can only hope that the young lady will continue obstinate, as I wish to marry her myself." "Well, Battersea," said Isabella, kindly, "how are you to-day?".

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"Do get on, Miss Pat," urged Judith, folding her napkin. "I've got to get to school sometime this morning, you know." Finally, Isabella decided to slip round by the back of the house and meet Maurice at the gate. Dido was occupied in questioning Battersea about the devil-stick on the verandah. So, after a glance to assure herself that the pair were in earnest conversation, Isabella put on a straw hat and ran lightly away to see her lover. She passed out by a side door, danced like a fairy across the intervening space of lawn, and slipped laughingly into the narrow path which wound through the wood to the avenue near the gates. "Like the fool she is," said the doctor, putting on his hat. "Well, I am going. Will you see me to-morrow morning?" "Oh! so she is an old friend of yours?".