February 13th.—Attorney Maxwell is more Obliging than I like to See.
February 14th.—My Brother Godfrey did begin by Mistake the Funeral Service instead of the Marriage, for an honest couple. This Comes of Carousing. Alas!
March 25th.—My Chittyprat Hen has a Fine Brood. There be no letter from my son Guy, which angers his Father. My poor Boy. He is better even in Town than Here. Does God indeed permit the Spirit of His wicked Ancestor to Trouble Him? Alas! there is Wickedness Enough Alive.
April 15th.—The Pain at my Heart is great, I have nigh Swooned with it. N.B.—To distil lavender and drop Into it Cloves, for a Cordial. Death would be No evil, but for my two Sons, but this House would be no Home.
Here the brief record suddenly stopped, only lower down on the page were faintly and unsteadily written the words, “My dear son.”
“There was the ghost then, you see,” said Violet, in awestruck tones. “Oh, go on, Kitty. It is interesting.”
“There’s no more,” said Kitty. “The other paper is quite different.”
This was dated October 10th, 1785, and began—
“I, George Maxwell, Attorney-at-law, feel it incumbent upon me for the Establishment of my Character as an Honest Man, to state in writing what passed after the Shocking and Lamentable Suicide of Guy Waynflete, Esquire, of Waynflete Hall, which Property is legally mine by the Terms of the Bond between Us. Since there be not wanting envious Persons to say that! Took advantage of young Mr Waynflete’s Illness, which Prevented his Return at the Given Date. When he Arrived in the Early Morning, he was Undoubtedly in liquor, which was his Custom, therefore His Statement that the Spirit of his Ancestor, Guy Waynflete, Who Betrayed his Friend, and the Father of his Future wife, and so Disgraced his Family at the Time of the Lamentable Rebellion of the Duke of Monmouth, stood in his Path, and Prevented Him from Crossing the River Flete, hath no Credit with Reasonable Men. There be Some that say Highwaymen are Plentiful, but Lies, in the mouth of this Young Gentleman, are more Plentiful still. At the sight of His Father’s Corpse he fell into a swoon and Awoke Raving, in which Condition he Died This Morning. The Lad Godfrey is but a Loutish Youth, but I am Willing to Assist Parson Godfrey to put Him to some Honest Calling. I do not Hold with Country superstitions, and I shall Instruct my Wife and Daughters that the Gallopping of the Horse Round the House be nothing but the Wind in the Plantations.”
“Well!” said Violet, with calm emphasis, “whatever the Waynfletes were, our ancestor was a beast, and I hope the Stauntons were more respectable.”