"Poor old Bob!" I thought. "His ill-luck sticks to him."
Aloud I said, "You are a conundrum, Maria; I shall give you up."
"Better give up the plot," she said pleasantly.
"I will, when I know what it is."
"It was this--that you would invent a ridiculous story about the house I have set my heart upon taking being haunted, so that I should be frightened to go near it. You ought to have known me better, Edward, and I must say you did it very clumsily; my consolation is that you did not succeed. I am so sorry for you! Good-night, dear; I hope you will sleep well."
I did sleep fairly well, though I was kept awake longer than usual by my annoyance at the prejudice Maria entertained against my old friend Bob.
CHAPTER V.
[WE LOOK OVER THE HOUSE IN LAMB'S TERRACE, AND RECEIVE A SHOCK.]
We rose earlier than usual the next morning, and my wife bustled about in lively expectation of a successful and pleasant day. She made no allusion to Bob Millet, and I, well acquainted with her moods, was aware that her silence was no indication that she was not thinking of him. My meeting with him had recalled agreeable memories, and I was sincerely sorry that he had not been successful in life's battle. I resolved to assist him if I could, though I could not exactly see a way to it, because of his aversion to borrowing money, and because, living retired as I was, with no business to attend to, it was out of my power to offer him a better situation than the one he occupied in Mr. Gascoigne's office. Anxious that my wife should have as high an opinion of him as I had myself, I made an effort to reinstate him in her good graces.
"I think, Maria," I said, during breakfast, "that you were inclined to do Bob an injustice last night. He had no desire whatever to set you against the house in Lamb's Terrace, but only to give us some information which he considered it his duty not to withhold from us. He was perfectly sincere in all he said, and perfectly truthful, and you must admit that he did give us some strange news."