Another step was coming down the stairs, steps made by a youthful wearer of high heels. It was Gwendolen.
She looked just a little serious, but otherwise there was no trace on her blooming countenance of last night's tragedy. A little lump on her head was all that remained to prove that she really had been frightened and really and truly had stupidly thought there was something to be frightened of. Gwen constantly put her finger up to feel the lump on her head, and as she did so she thought agreeably of the Warden.
"You see I'm not a bit frightened," she said, and her cheeks dimpled. "When I passed near the library, I thought of Dr. Middleton."
"You understand, don't you, Gwen," said Lady Dashwood, "that I don't want any talk about 'a ghost,' even though, you are now quite sensible about it. I don't think the Robinsons are silly, but Louise and the other two are like children, and must be treated as such."
"Oh no," said Gwen, innocently, "I won't!" And she meant what she said. It was true that she had just hinted at something, perhaps she even used the word "ghost," to the housemaid that morning, but she had made her promise faithfully not to repeat what she had heard, so it was all right.
"We start at half-past ten," said Lady Dashwood.
Gwen said she would be punctual. Her face was full of mysterious and subdued pleasure when she looked into the breakfast-room to see if by any chance Mrs. Dashwood was still there. The girl's fancy was excited by the Warden's behaviour last night. She kept on thinking of his face in the lamp light. It looked very severe and yet so gentle. She was actually falling in love with him, so she said to herself. The Barber's ghost was no longer alarming, but something to recall with a thrill of interest, as it led on to the Warden. She was burning to talk about the Warden. She was so glad she had delivered her letter to the Warden. He would be simply obliged to speak some time to-day. How exciting! Now, was Mrs. Dashwood in the breakfast-room? Yes, there she was, standing in the window with a newspaper in her hand.
"Oh, good morning," said Gwen, brightly. "I must thank you for having been so awfully sweet to me last night. It was funny, wasn't it, my getting that fright? I really and truly was frightened, till Dr. Middleton came up and told me I needn't. Isn't he wonderful?" Here Gwen's voice sank into a confidential whisper.
Mrs. Dashwood said "Yes" in a lingering voice, and she seemed about to go.
"I do think he is the nicest man I have ever met," said Gwen hurriedly, "don't you? But then, of course, I have reason to think so, after last night. It must have looked queer, I mean to any one merely looking on. How I did sleep!" Then after a moment she said: "Don't you think he is very good-looking? Now, do tell me, Mrs. Dashwood! I promise you I won't repeat it."