"Of Agnes Darling. You can stay, if you like. Sir Ronald is your escort."
"Thank you. A charming escort he is, too—grimmer than old Time in the primer. No; if you leave, so do I."
Mr. Stanford sauntered up while she was speaking, and Rose drew back.
"What is it, Kate? Grierson says you are going home."
Kate's answer was an explanation. Mr. Reginald Stanford set up an indecorous laugh.
"A ghost! That's capital! Why did you not tell me before that Danton Hall was haunted, Kate?"
"I want to return immediately," was Kate's answer a little coldly. "I must speak to Mr. Ponsonby and find Eeny. Tell Sir Ronald, please, and hold yourself in readiness to attend us."
She swept off with Rose to find their hostess. Mrs. Ponsonby's regrets were unutterable, but Miss Danton was resolute.
"How absurd, you know, Helen," she said, to her daughter, when they were gone; "such nonsense about a sick seamstress."
"I thought Kate Danton was proud," said Miss Helen. "That does not look like it. I am not sorry she has gone, however, half the men in the room were making idiots of themselves about her."