'Oh, how very dreadful,' said Lady Castlerich, 'Agnes must come to my shootin' party.'
'Father White—the priest you saw here just now—brought her home. Fortunately he took our side, and he told Agnes she must see the world; it would be time enough a year hence to think if she had a vocation.'
'Mother dear, he said six months.'
'What, are you tired of us already, Agnes?'
'No, mother, but—' Agnes hung down her head.
'Agnes must come to my shootin' party, we must find a young man for her, there is Mr. Moulton, or would you like Mr. St. Clare better? I hope, Mr. Moulton, you'll be able to come to Morelands on the twenty- fifth.'
Mr. Moulton said that nothing would give him more pleasure, and feeling that Lady Castlerich intended that his charms should for ever obliterate Agnes' conventual aspiration he leaned towards her and asked her if she knew Yorkshire. Morelands was in Yorkshire. His conversation was, however, interrupted by Lady Castlerich, who said in her clear cracked voice:
'We must put Agnes in the haunted room amid the tapestries.'
'No, no, don't frighten her,' whispered the Major.
'But, father, I am not so easily frightened as that.'