"You know better than I do," replied Constance, tasting her chocolate critically. "Did you have sugar, Frances? Why, you've seen the ghost, Edith, which is more than I can say."
Edith's face was a picture of surprise. "Seen it!" she repeated.
"Why, I saw nothing at all."
"I told you, didn't I, that the people who saw the ghost never knew it at the time? This is the legend. About a century ago, the Richard Lisle, then owner of the Manor, married a very charming young wife. He was madly in love with her and was inclined to be rather jealous. The story runs that he couldn't bear to have her lavish affection on anything but him, was jealous of her dog and her horse and even of her flower-garden. Winifred Lisle had a very pretty white Persian kitten—"
Constance stopped, for Edith's spoon fell with a clatter. "You don't mean that darling purry little pussy was the ghost!" she exclaimed.
"Listen to the story," Constance went on smiling. "Dick Lisle objected to even this wee kit since it took some of his Winifred's time and attention and he gave orders that it was never to be admitted to the room where they spent the evening, presumably the library. The kitten disappeared and Winifred mourned for it. Months later, its little corpse was found on the secret stairs behind the portrait."
"Then Mr. Max didn't put a cat into the room?" asked Frances eagerly.
"I think not, unless he took the trouble to bring a white kitten with him from Paris. Max is quite capable of doing it for a joke, but he could not know, you see, that we were planning to sleep in that room last night. And there is no white kitten about the Manor."
"Isn't that the oddest story!" said Edith in deep interest. "Why, Miss Connie, I'm as sure as I am of anything that I saw that pussy playing in the moonlight. It was the sweetest little thing and I did wish it would come and cuddle by me in bed. Is it really a ghost? How do you account for it?"
"I don't account for it," said Constance. "You can consider it a pretty dream if you wish. I never saw it and I have a fancy that it is because I am not fond of cats. When Frances said she did not like them, I knew that she would not see the little ghost kit either, and so I wanted you to take the bed nearest the moonlight."
"That's the most interesting thing that ever happened to me," said
Edith. "I'm so glad I saw it."