When Emmie quitted her little room, the sunlight was streaming through the large east window which lighted the staircase, throwing gorgeous stains of crimson and azure from its coloured panes upon the wide oaken steps. What had been dreary and ghost-like by night, had become picturesque and romantic by day. Emmie tripped lightly down to the breakfast-room, where she found Bruce looking out his place in the book of family prayers.
“Did you sleep well?” was the sister’s eager greeting as she approached her brother; for Emmie had reproached herself a little for exposing Bruce to the chance of any nocturnal annoyance by the exchange of the rooms.
“I slept very well,—never better,” replied Bruce with a slightly sarcastic smile. “I had no expectation of seeing goblin or ghost, and was certainly troubled by none. I never knew a place more perfectly still; so far as I could judge, not a mouse stirred or a cricket chirrupped in the so-called haunted chamber. But that west room is by far too pretty and luxurious for a student like me. As ladies are allowed to change their minds once, I would strongly advise you, Emmie, to let us resume the first arrangement: do you go back to the west room, and let me study or sulk in my own little cell.”
“Not now,” replied Emmie Trevor; and, to do her justice, her motive in declining the second change was as much consideration for her brother’s comfort as the repugnance, which she had not yet quite overcome, to sleeping next door to the haunted chamber.
“Why has Master Vibert not made his appearance either at prayers or at breakfast?” asked Bruce, when, half an hour afterwards, he was enjoying the cup of hot coffee prepared by his sister.
“Vibert was tired last night, and has probably overslept himself,” replied Emmie.
“Not he,” said Bruce, “for I saw him from my window this morning, more than an hour ago, loitering about the grounds. Vibert must have heard the gong sound for breakfast. No; the fact is—you must have seen it from his manner last evening—that Vibert is in a huff because I called him a selfish idiot.”
“I am so very, very sorry that you called him that,” cried Emmie, with a look of distress. “You do not consider, dear Bruce, what real harm your sternness may do to our younger brother. Vibert is so affectionate—”
“He cares for no one on earth but himself,” said Bruce. “Look at his conduct yesterday, and think what might have been its result.”
“Driving off from the station without waiting for you was but a foolish, boyish prank,” pleaded Emmie. “As for the accident that occurred, that cannot be laid to Vibert’s charge; it was caused by my catching hold of his arm just when the pony was turning a corner.”