"No. But he didn't seem to want us to notice his interest, did he? Where's this grocer we're looking for?"
At the grocer's, which turned out to be also the post office and linen-draper, after the manner of village shops, the two men were accosted by a gentleman in clerical attire, who was buying stamps. He introduced himself as the Vicar, and told them that he and his wife were only waiting until the newcomers had had time to settle into the Priory before they paid a call on them.
"One is glad to see the Priory occupied once more," he said. "Alas, too many of our old houses are spurned nowadays for lack of "modern conveniences."'
"We were rather under the impression, sir, that this particular house has been spurned on account of ghosts,"
Peter said.
The Vicar smiled. "Ah, I fear you must seek confirmation of that story from one more credulous than my poor self," he announced. "Such tales, I find, invariably spring up round deserted houses. I venture to prophesy that the Priory ghost proves itself to be nothing more harmful than a mouse, or perhaps a rat."
"Oh, so we think," Charles answered. "But it's really rather a nuisance, for my wife had banked on getting a local housemaid, and the best she can manage is a daily girl, who takes precious good care she's out of the place before sundown."
Mr. Pennythorne listened to this with an air of smiling tolerance. "Strange how tenacious these simple countryfolk are of superstitions," he said musingly. "But you are not without domestic help, one trusts?"
"No, no, we have our butler and his wife." Charles gathered up his change from the counter, and thrust an unwieldy package into Peter's hands. "Are you going our way, sir? Can we drop you anywhere?"
"No, I thank you. Is it your car that stands outside the Bell Inn? I will accompany you as far as that if I may."