"To the copper beech, as you might say Master Rupert. And angry enough he looked. I nearly fainted."
"You should be used to the ghost by this time Mrs. Petley."
"Ghosts is things custom won't help you with," said Mrs. Petley mysteriously, "they freeze your blood every time. Just as I was thinking of a good scream and a faint, it vanished."
"Into thin air like the witches in Macbeth," said Rupert lightly. "Well it doesn't need Abbot Raoul to come and tell me trouble is near. I'm likely to have a good deal by the end of the year."
"Oh Master Rupert what is it?" gasped the old woman.
"Nothing I can tell you at present," said Ainsleigh carelessly, "I have a good mind to seek Abbot Raoul myself and see if he can't help me; but I'm not psychic as you are Mrs. Petley. I see nothing."
"And a good thing too," said the ex-cook solemnly, "if I spoke to you it would be to make matters worse, though worse they can't be."
"Oh yes they can," said Rupert grimly. "I may have to leave--"
"Never," cried Mrs. Petley smiting her fat hands together. "Royabay can never do without an Ainsleigh within its walls."
"It will have to content itself with Abbot Raoul, and I hope he'll jolly well frighten the creditors."