She continued. "For--I can speak to you openly on this tiresome
subject--only think what a terrible strain this hope deferred must
be for Felicia's heart--for her nerves."

"Why speak to me about it," he muttered feeling half choked
suddenly.

"Why! As a friend--a well-wisher--the kindest of hosts. I am
afraid we are really eating you out of house and home." She
laughed a little. "Ah! When, when will this suspense be relieved!
That poor lost Arthur! I confess that I am almost afraid of the
great moment. It will be like seeing a ghost."

"Have you ever seen a ghost?" asked Renouard, in a dull voice.

She shifted her hands a little. Her pose was perfect in its ease
and middle-aged grace.

"Not actually. Only in a photograph. But we have many friends who
had the experience of apparitions."

"Ah! They see ghosts in London," mumbled Renouard, not looking at
her.

"Frequently--in a certain very interesting set. But all sorts of
people do. We have a friend, a very famous author--his ghost is a
girl. One of my brother's intimates is a very great man of
science. He is friendly with a ghost . . . Of a girl too," she
added in a voice as if struck for the first time by the
coincidence. "It is the photograph of that apparition which I have