Then Lady Doraine and every one talked at once, and Lord Valmond asked did any one know if the London evening papers had come.  But I was not going to be put off like that, so I just said, “I know you all know it is haunted and are putting me off because you think I’ll be frightened; but I assure you I am not, and if I hear the noise again I am going to rush out and see the ghost close.”

Then every one looked simply ahuri.  So I mean to get the ghost story out of Sir Trevor to-night after dinner—­I had not a chance yesterday—­as I am sure it is interesting.  Mrs. Smith looked at me as if she wanted to poison me, and I can’t think why specially, can you?

Twelve p.m.—­I asked Sir Trevor if the house is haunted, and he said, “God bless my soul, no!” and so I told him, and he nearly had a fit; so I know it is, but I am not a bit frightened.—­Your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.

Nazeby Hall, Sunday.

Dearest Mamma,—­Agnes and I go to Aunt Mary’s by the 10:30 train to-morrow, and I am not a bit sorry, although I have enjoyed myself, and now I begin to feel quite at home with every one—­at least, some of them; but such a tiresome thing happened last night.  It was like this:  After dinner it was so hot that we all went out on the terrace, and, as soon as we got there, Mrs. Smith and Lady Doraine and the rest said it was too cold, and went in again; but the moon was pretty, so I stayed alone, and presently Lord Valmond came out, and stood beside me.  There is such a nice view, you remember, from there, and I didn’t a bit want to talk.

[Sidenote:  A Kiss and a Blow]

He said something, but I wasn’t listening, when suddenly I did hear him say this:  “You adorable enfant terrible, come out and watch for ghosts to-night; and I will come and play the ghost, and console you if you are frightened!” And he put his horrid arm right round my waist, and kissed me—­somewhere about my right ear—­before I could realise what he was at!

I was in a rage, as you can fancy, Mamma, so I just turned round and gave him the hardest slap I could, right on the cheek!  He was furious, and called me a “little devil,” and we both walked straight into the drawing-room.

I suppose I looked savage, and in the light I could see he had great red finger marks on his face.  Anyway, Mrs. Smith, who was sitting on the big sofa near the window alone, looked up, and said in an odious voice, that made every one listen, “I am afraid, Harry, you have not enjoyed cooing in the moonlight; it looks as if our sweet Elizabeth had been difficult, and had boxed your ears!”

That made me wild, the impudence!  That parvenue calling me by my Christian name!  So I just lost my temper right out, and said to her, “It is perfectly true what you say, and I will box yours if you call me ‘Elizabeth’ again!”

Tableau! She almost fainted with astonishment and fury, and when she could get her voice decent enough to speak, she laughed and said—­