"Have you taken breakfast?" she asked.
"Breakfast has been over a long while. Were I you, Sibylla, when I had guests staying in the house, I should try and rise to breakfast with them."
"Oh, you crafty Lionel! To save you the trouble of presiding. Thank you," she continued good-humouredly, "I am more comfortable here. What is this story about a ghost? The kitchen's in a regular commotion, Benoite says."
"To what do you allude?" asked Lionel.
"Dan Duff is dying, or dead," returned Sibylla. "Benoite was in Deerham last night, and brought him home to carry her parcels. In going back again, he saw, as he says, Rachel Frost's ghost, and it terrified him out of his senses. Old Roy saw it too, and the news has travelled up here."
Sibylla laughed as she spoke. Lionel looked vexed.
"They are very stupid," he said. "A pity but they kept such stories to themselves. If they were only as quiet as poor Rachel's ghost is, it might be better for some of them."
"Of course you would wish it kept quiet," said Sibylla, in a tone full of significance. "I like to hear of these frights—it is good fun."
He did not fathom in the remotest degree the meaning of her tone. But he had not gone thither to dispute about ghosts.
"Sibylla," he gravely said, putting the open account into her hand, "I have received this bill this morning."