"I followed my friend's advice, and soon after they left London, I joined them at Salton, which was the name of their place. As I had left my wife and children in town, with very little money, I was anxious that they should join me as soon as possible; and therefore the morning after my arrival, I proceeded to look for a lodging at S., and to take measures to make my object known to the residents and visitors there. My business done, I sent my family directions for their journey, and then returned to Salton to spend a few days, as I had promised my kind patrons.
"The house was modern, in fact it had been built by Mr. Greathead's grandfather, who was the architect of their fortunes; the grounds were extensive, and the windows looked on a fine lawn, a picturesque ruin, a sparkling rivulet, and a charming flower-garden; there could not be a prettier view than that we enjoyed while sitting at breakfast. It was my first experience of the lovely and graceful English homes, and it fully realised all my expectations, both within doors and without. After breakfast Mr. Greathead and his son asked me to accompany them round the grounds, as they were contemplating some alterations.
"'Among other things,' said Mr. G., 'we want to turn this rivulet; but my wife has a particular fancy for that old hedge, which is exactly in the way, and she won't let me root it up.'
"The hedge alluded to enclosed two sides of the flower-garden, but seemed rather out of place, I thought.
"'Why?' said I. 'What is Mrs. Greathead's attachment to the hedge?'
"'Why? it's very old; it formerly bordered the churchyard, for that old ruin you see there, is all that remains of the parish church; and this flower-garden, I fancy, is all the more brilliant for the rich soil of the burial-ground. But what is remarkable is, that the hedge and that side of the garden are full of Italian flowers, and always have been so as long as anybody can remember. Nobody knows how it happens, but they must spring up from some old seeds that have been long in the ground. Look at this cyclamen growing wild in the hedge.'
"The subject of the alterations was renewed at dinner, and Mrs. Greathead, still objecting to the removal of the hedge, her younger son, whose name was Harry, said, 'It is very well for mamma to pretend it is for the sake of the flowers, but I am quite sure that the real reason is that she is afraid of offending the ghost.'
"'What nonsence, Harry,' she said. 'You must not believe him, Mr. Ferraldi.'
"'Well mamma,' said the boy, 'you know you will never be convinced that that was not a ghost you saw.'
"'Never mind what it was,' she said; 'I won't have the hedge removed. Presently,' she added, 'I suppose you would laugh at the idea of anybody believing in a ghost, Mr. Ferraldi.'