But several weeks passed, and I saw no ghost; and I began to think that perhaps the aversion I had shown to having such an inmate of my household had had its effect, and I was to be spared the infliction. And now another subject occupied my thoughts. It was summer, the afternoons were pleasant, and on one of them I asked Belle to take a walk with me. I would have preferred Madeline, but she had excused herself as she was very busy making what I presumed to be an altar cloth for Pegram. It turned out to be an afghan for his baby carriage, but the effect was the same: she could not go. When I could not have Madeline I liked very well to walk with Belle. She was a pleasant girl, and in these walks I always talked to her of Crenshaw. My desire that she should marry my friend grew stronger daily. But this afternoon Belle hesitated, and looked a little confused.
"I am not sure that I shall walk to-day."
"But you have your hat on," I urged: "I supposed you had made ready for a walk."
"No," said she: "I thought I would go somewhere with my book."
"You haven't a book," I said, looking at her hands, one of which held a parasol.
"You are dreadfully exact," she replied, with a little laugh: "I am going into the library to get one." And away she ran.
There was something about this I did not like. I firmly believed she had come down stairs prepared to take a walk. But she did not want me; that was evident enough. I went off for a long walk, and when
