"And you, Henry."

Sir Walter, disappointed of his hopes respecting his nephew and
daughter, had none the less treated the young man with tact and
tenderness. He felt for Henry; he was also fond of him and
doubted not that the youth would prove a worthy successor. Thomas
May was one with whom none could quarrel, and he and his wife's
old flame were now, after the acquaintance of a week, on friendly
terms.

"I shan't fail, uncle."

"Will anybody have another whisky?" asked Sir Walter, rising.

It was the signal for departure and invariably followed the stroke
of a deep-mouthed, grandfather clock in the hail. When eleven
sounded, the master rose; but to-night he was delayed. Tom May
spoke.

"Fayre-Michell has never heard the ghost story, governor," he said,
"and Mr. Travers badly wants another drink. If he doesn't have
one, he won't sleep all night. He's done ten men's work to-day."

Mr. Fayre-Michell spoke.

"I didn't know you had a ghost, Sir Walter. I'm tremendously
interested in psychical research and so on. If it's not bothering
you and keeping you up--."