to a place where you have been told you will see something supernatural; steadfastly and determinedly look out for it, and—­you will have your reward.  These are precisely the lines on which a spiritual seance is conducted, only instead of plaster, which is not always so obliging as to fall in the nick of time, you have a paid medium who supplies the material for your fancy to work upon.  Mrs. Mallet, you see, has discovered all this for herself—­that woman is a born genius.  Just think what she might have been and seen if she had lived in a sphere where neither cooking nor any other rational occupation interfered with her pursuit of the supernatural.  Mrs. Molyneux would be nowhere beside her.”

“I suppose she really does intend to stay,” said Lady Atherley.

“Of course she does.  I always told you my powers of persuasion were irresistible.”

“But how annoying about the ceiling,” said Lady Atherley.  “Over the new carpet, too!  What can make the plaster fall in this way?”

“It is the quality of the climate,” said Atherley.  “It is horribly destructive.  If you would read the batch of letters now on my writing-table from tenant-farmers you would see what I mean:  barns, roofs, gates, everything is falling to pieces and must immediately be repaired—­at the landlord’s expense, of course.”

“We must send for a plasterer,” said Lady Atherley, “and then the doctor.  Perhaps you would have time to go round his way, George.”

“No, I have no time to go anywhere but to Northside farm.  Hunt has been waiting nearly half an hour for me, as it is.  Lindy, would you like to come with me?”

“No, thank you, George; I too am a landowner, and I mean to look over my audit accounts to-day.”

“Don’t compare yourself to a poor overworked underpaid landowner like me.  You are one of the landlords they spout about in London parks on Sundays.  You have nothing to do but sign receipts for your rents, paid in full and up to date.”

“Mr. Lyndsay is an excellent landlord,” said Lady Atherley; “and they tell me the new church and the schools he has built are charming.”

“Very mischievous things both,” said Atherley.  “Ta-ta.”

That afternoon, Atherley being still absent, and Lady Atherley having gone forth to pay a round of calls, the little boys undertook my entertainment.  They were in rather a sober mood for them, having just forfeited four weeks’ pocket-money towards expenses incurred by Tip in the dairy, where they had foolishly allowed him to enter; so they accepted very good-humouredly my objections to wading in the river or climbing trees, and took me instead for a walk to Beggar’s Stile.  We climbed up the steep carriage-drive to the lodge, passed through the big iron gates, turned sharply to the left, and went down the road which the park palings border and the elms behind them shade, past the little copse beyond the park, till we came to a tumble-down gate with a stile beside it in the hedgerow; and this was Beggar’s Stile.  It was just on the brow of the little hill which sloped gradually downward to the village beneath, and commanded a wide view of the broad shallow valley and of the rising ground beyond.