Loftus Bertram had many faults, but he was not ill-natured.  He took Mabel’s little cold hand, and pressed it between his warm fingers, and ceased to laugh at her, and walked quickly, and was even silent at her bidding.  By degrees, Mabel leaned all her weight on Loftus, and took no notice of Kate, who, for her part, held herself erect, and walked up the avenue with a half-aggrieved, half-scornful look on her face, and with some anxiety in her heart.

CHAPTER IX.

THE GHOST IN THE AVENUE.

Rosendale Manor had heaps of rooms.  It was an old house, added to at many times; added to by builders, who had little or no knowledge of their craft, who were prodigal of space, and illiberal in all matters of convenience.

The Manor was the sort of house which might best be described as inadequate for the wants of ordinary people.  For instance, its drawing-rooms were large out of all proportion, whereas its dining-room, morning-room and library were ridiculously small.  It had a spacious hall and wide landings, but its stairs were steep and narrow, and there was not even one decent-sized bedroom in the house.  All the rooms had low ceilings and were small.  Their only virtue was that there were such a number of them.

Catherine and Mabel liked the bedrooms at the Manor, because being rather distinct in their tastes, and decidedly given to quarrel over the arrangements of their separate properties, it was impossible for them to sleep together.  Each girl had a room of her own, and these rooms did not even touch, for Mabel slept near her mother, and Catherine away in a wing by herself.  This wing could only be reached by a spiral staircase, and was pronounced by the timid Mabel to be odiously lonely.

Catherine, however, knew no fears, and enjoyed the privacy of her quaint little bedroom with its sloping roof and lattice window.

She bade her brother and sister good-night, and went up to it, now.

“You’ll go to bed at once, won’t you, Kitty?” said Mabel, whose eyes were half-shut.  “Perhaps it was only a rabbit I heard.  Only why did it flash white, and why did it sigh?  Well, I won’t think of it any more.  Good-night, Kitty, how wide awake you look.”

Catherine kissed her sister and sought her distant chamber.  She waited until all was silent in the house, then slowly and cautiously she unbarred her door and went downstairs.

In the large square entrance hall she took a white shawl from a stand.  She hung it across her arm, and still walking very softly reached the hall door, drew back its bolts, removed its chain, opened it, and went out into the porch.

Her mother had stood in that porch two nights fgo.  Catherine thought of her now.  The remembrance of her mother’s face caused her to sigh and shiver as if she had been struck with sudden cold.  Leaving the hall door ajar she wrapped the white shawl about her shoulders, and then walked a little way across the wide gravel sweep in front of the house.