Our lonely man was a great walker, and had investigated every lane and pathway, and almost every hedge within ten miles of Dillsborough before he had resided there two years; but his favourite rambles were all in the neighbourhood of Bragton.  As there was no one living in the house,—­no one but the old housekeeper who had lived there always,—­he was able to wander about the place as he pleased.  On the Tuesday afternoon, after the meeting of the Dillsborough Club which has been recorded, he was seated, about three o’clock, on the rail of the foot-bridge over the Dil, with a long German pipe hanging from his mouth.  He was noted throughout the whole country for this pipe, or for others like it, such a one usually being in his mouth as he wandered about.  The amount of tobacco which he had smoked since his return to these parts, exactly in that spot, was considerable, for there he might have been found at some period of the afternoon at least three times a week.  He would sit on this rail for half an hour looking down at the sluggish waters of the little river, rolling the smoke out of his mouth at long intervals, and thinking perhaps of the great book which he was supposed to be writing.  As he sat there now, he suddenly heard voices and laughter, and presently three girls came round the corner of the hedge, which, at this spot, hid the Dillsborough path,—­and he saw the attorney’s three daughters.

“It’s Mr. Morton,” said Dolly in a whisper.

“He’s always walking about Bragton,” said Kate in another whisper.  “Tony Tuppett says that he’s the Bragton ghost”

“Kate,” said Mary, also in a low voice, “you shouldn’t talk so much about what you hear from Tony Tuppett.”

“Bosh!” said Kate, who knew that she could not be scolded in the presence of Mr. Morton.

He came forward and shook hands with them all, and took off his hat to Mary.  “You’ve walked a long way, Miss Masters,” he said.

“We don’t think it far.  I like sometimes to come and look at the old place.”

“And so do I. I wonder whether you remember how often I’ve sat you on this rail and threatened to throw you into the river?”

“I remember very well that you did threaten me once, and that I almost believed that you would throw me in.”

“What had she done that was naughty, Mr. Morton?” asked Kate.

“I don’t think she ever did anything naughty in those days.  I don’t know whether she has changed for the worse since.”

“Mary is never naughty now,” said Dolly.  “Kate and I are naughty, and it’s very much better fun than being good.”

“The world has found out that long ago, Miss Dolly; only the world is not quite so candid in owning it as you are.  Will you come and walk round the house, Miss Masters?  I never go in, but I have no scruples about the paths and park.”

At the end of the bridge leading into the shrubbery there was a stile, high indeed, but made commodiously with steps, almost like a double stair case, so that ladies could pass it without trouble.  Mary had given her assent to the proposed walk, and was in the act of putting out her hand to be helped over the stile, when Mr. Twentyman appeared at the other side of it.