"Who said that?" exclaimed Gwendolen.
"On dit," said Louise.
"Then they shouldn't on dit," said Gwendolen. "I never said I saw the ghost, I may have said I thought I saw one, which is quite different. The Warden says there are no ghosts, and the whole thing is rubbish."
"There comes no ghost here," said Louise, firmly, "except there is a disaster preparing for the Warden."
"The Warden's quite all right," said Gwen, with some scorn.
"Quite all right," repeated Louise. "But it may be some disaster domestic. Who can tell? There is not only death—there is—par exemple, marriage!" and Louise glanced over Gwendolen's head and looked at the girl's face reflected in the mirror.
"Well, that is cool," thought Gwendolen; "I suppose that's French!"
"The whole thing is rubbish," she said.
"One cannot tell, it is not for us to know, perhaps, but it may be that the disaster is, that Mrs. Dashwood, so charming—so douce—will not permit herself to marry again—though she is still young. Such things happen. But how the Barber should have obtained the information—the good God only knows."
Gwendolen blew the breath from her mouth with protruding lips.