"Faith, he took such a plaguy interest in the haunted mill that I left it and took to haunting the churchyard instead—used to hide in a mouldy vault——"
"Charles!" cried Lady Betty and shuddered.
"Finally he and his fellow hunted me out o' that and here I am. Haunting hath its drawbacks and 'twould have saved me much of discomfort had you received the letter I writ you and sent by the little girl."
"Tell me again what was in it, Charles."
His lordship scratched his head and wrinkled youthful brow.
"So far as I remember, Bet, I writ you these words: 'Meet me at midnight in your garden with fifty guineas for your loving and misfortunate fugitive, Charles.'"
Lady Betty set her chin on white fist and stared at her brother so fixedly that he choked upon his last mouthful of supper and remonstrated:
"Gad, Bet, why d'ye fix a man so wi' such great eyes? What might ye be thinking this time?"
"That we are grown more like each other than ever, dear—'tis marvellous! Aye, 'tis marvellous," she continued absently, "though your voice will never do!"
"Voice, Bet? Egad, what's in your mind now?"