'Stop!' cried Virginia, stamping her foot, 'it is you who are rude,
and horrid, and vulgar, and as for dishonesty, you know you stole
the paints out of my box to try and furbish up that ridiculous
blood-stain in the library. First you took all my reds, including
the vermilion, and I couldn't do any more sunsets, then you took the
emerald-green and the chrome-yellow, and finally I had nothing left
but indigo and Chinese white, and could only do moonlight scenes,
which are always depressing to look at, and not at all easy to
paint. I never told on you, though I was very much annoyed, and it
was most ridiculous, the whole thing; for who ever heard of emerald-
green blood?'

'Well, really,' said the Ghost, rather meekly, 'what was I to do?
It is a very difficult thing to get real blood nowadays, and, as
your brother began it all with his Paragon Detergent, I certainly
saw no reason why I should not have your paints. As for colour,
that is always a matter of taste: the Cantervilles have blue blood,
for instance, the very bluest in England; but I know you Americans
don't care for things of this kind.'

'You know nothing about it, and the best thing you can do is to
emigrate and improve your mind. My father will be only too happy to
give you a free passage, and though there is a heavy duty on spirits
of every kind, there will be no difficulty about the Custom House,
as the officers are all Democrats. Once in New York, you are sure
to be a great success. I know lots of people there who would give a
hundred thousand dollars to have a grandfather, and much more than
that to have a family Ghost.'

'I don't think I should like America.'