bell," Bessie said.

"Nor had I," said Edwin.

"That's queer, then," said John; "but I'm sure there's something of
some kind between you two: you're planning something, I know. What is
it?"

"Wise people don't reveal their plans to every one till near the time
for executing them, John," said Edwin.

"Oh, very well," John answered: "you can keep them to yourselves.
I dare say it's nothing of consequence;" and having finished his
breakfast, John was off to his out-door business. The shortest cut
to his destination--and he always took short cuts--was through the
kitchen, and as he hastily brushed along the wall toward the door he
was brought up suddenly by a loud peal of the bell, and he looked at
one of the servants, who was working at the table, as much as to say,
"Do you hear that?"

She answered his look: "Yes, I ha'en, but there's naebody at the door.
It was yu that rang the bell: ye cam against that bag of worsted
clues for durning that I hung on the bell-wine yesterday. When onybody
happens to touch it the weight o' 't gars the bell ring; I would hae
to ta'en off."

With this simple and inglorious explanation John rushed to the
dining-room where he found Mrs. Forrester and the châtelaine in deep
Conspiracy again; and to this hour the ghost of Cockhoolet is a matter
(if you can use that word in connection with a ghost at all) of faith