Chapter VII


A GHOSTLY REVEL

"Bless me, how dull we are tonight!" exclaimed Rose, as the younger
portion of the party wandered listlessly about the drawing rooms that
evening, while my lady and the major played an absorbing game of piquet,
and the general dozed peacefully at last.

"It is because Maurice is not here; he always keeps us going, for he is
a fellow of infinite resources," replied Sir Jasper, suppressing a yawn.

"Have him out then," said Annon.

"He won't come. The poor lad is blue tonight, in spite of his
improvement. Something is amiss, and there is no getting a word
from him."

"Sad memories afflict him, perhaps," sighed Blanche.

"Don't be absurd, dear, sad memories are all nonsense; melancholy is
always indigestion, and nothing is so sure a cure as fun," said Rose
briskly. "I'm going to send in a polite invitation begging him to come
and amuse us. He'll accept, I haven't a doubt."

The message was sent, but to Rose's chagrin a polite refusal was
returned.