(Continued from page 51.)

The close bond which united the families of the Moat House and Begbie Hall, and the daily intercourse, had thrown the two governesses much together. Happily for both, their acquaintance had grown into friendship and affection. Not only did they meet during the walks taken with their pupils, but Estelle shared with her cousins in Miss Leigh's lessons in arithmetic and English subjects, while Marjorie and Georgie, and Miss Leigh herself, received instruction in French, Italian, music and drawing from Mademoiselle Vadevant.

When, therefore, Marjorie had proposed to spend the remainder of the rainy day with Estelle, Miss Leigh hailed the suggestion with pleasure. She would have Mademoiselle's companionship, while the children amused themselves in their own way. She splashed through the mud and wet, laughing and happy, with Georgie dancing along by her side, and hardly noticed that Marjorie did not join in her mirth. Marjorie was uneasy; she thought Miss Leigh was unkind not to allow her to wait for Alan. What was the sense of hurrying her off when Alan wanted her?

It was some time before Alan overcame his pride enough to follow, and then he plodded rather sulkily through the slush. Passing by the ruined summer-house he paused to look at it, the vague mystery making it always an object of interest. He wished Peet had been a more genial man: it might then have been possible to get him to show the inside of that gloomy place. But he was very surly, and the secret must be found out in some other way.

As he stood gazing, a slight stir among the bushes attracted his attention. Slipping behind a corner of the buttress, he waited, somewhat sheltered from the dripping rain by the overhanging ivy. He had not long to stand shivering there. A hurried whisper caught his ear.

'What's that? Did you hear a sound?'

'I thought I did, but it seems quiet now. Come along this way. It's more—— '

The voices died away, and after some slight rustling all grew still again. Alan, now beginning to feel that the mystery, whatever it was, appeared to be deepening, and that he must decide what he meant to do quickly, was on the point of quitting his shelter, when another sound arrested his movement. A rough grating, the swing of the heavy door of the summer-house, and Peet stepped into sight. He stopped to close the door carefully, and lock it before he walked away.

'Wonders will never cease,' thought Alan, amazed. 'Is that old curmudgeon in the business, too? He's the last man I should have imagined would mix himself up with a man like Thomas.'

Having no reason to expect further developments Alan set off at a run, so as to get out of the rain as speedily as possible. He was pretty wet, and what he had just seen and heard had made him forget the annoyances of the morning. His good temper was quite restored, though his thoughts were busy and perplexed. He almost made up his mind to consult somebody, and if he did, why not Aunt Betty, who never let out secrets? It was worth thinking about, even if he did not make up his mind to do it at once. At the same time he must not let things go too far.

Running down the path, vaulting the little gate leading into the shrubberies, and dashing down a back way almost dark with the thick laurel-bushes overhead, he soon reached what was known as the postern door. Entering a low passage, narrow and dimly lighted from some invisible opening, he pursued his way along various twists and turns of the old house, with now and again a few stairs up, till he finally came upon a crimson-baize door, opening on a long panelled corridor. The first two or three rooms were unoccupied, the remainder were devoted to the use of Estelle and her governess. In the schoolroom the whole party were assembled, the children waiting with more or less impatience for his arrival.

'You have been a long time!' cried Marjorie, while his cousin jumped up from the table, to clear away the round game they had been playing.

The governesses having retired to Mademoiselle's study, the children started off on their usual rainy-day amusement, hide-and-seek. They never tired of rushing about through the old passages and rooms, and often came upon strange discoveries. Things hidden away for years and forgotten, doors which had remained unopened, or perhaps even had been mistaken for a part of the wainscot for generations. These discoveries were somewhat awe-inspiring, and the game not unfrequently became what the children called 'Treasure-hunting.' They generally managed to keep together on such occasions; it was too uncanny to be alone in those ghostly apartments.

As a rule Georgie was not allowed to join in these weird expeditions. He was too young, and his conduct could not be depended upon. He might choose to be frightened and scream just at the wrong moment, or he would obstinately refuse to go into dark, shuttered rooms, where the smell of rats and dust seemed to strike them in the face, so stifling was it. Hide-and-seek could not be comfortably played with him, either. He could not run fast enough, nor did he like being left behind, and any sudden clutch from behind a door nearly terrified him out of his life. So, much to his disgust, he was forced to remain with the governesses, or go down to Aunt Betty, if she would let him sit with her. He liked that best, as she never minded what mess he made, or how untidily his toys were scattered about.

(Continued on page 70.)