"Don't you see the mischief you will do?" I asked. "You will probably break off a match between her and a most excellent gentleman whom we all desire"——
"Break off a match!" exclaimed the ghost of Buck Edwards, with a satisfied grin. "How many matches I have broken off! The last thing I ever did, before I went away, was of that sort. She wouldn't marry the gentleman who shot me." There was evidently no conscience to this spectre.
"And if you do not care for that," I said, in considerable anger, "I can tell you that you are causing ill-feeling between the young lady and the best friends she has in the world, which may end very disastrously."
"Now, look here, my man," said the ghost; "if you and your wife are really her friends you wont act like fools and make trouble."
I made no answer to this remark, but asserted, with much warmth, that I intended to tell Miss Belle exactly what he was, and so break off the engagement at once.
"If you tell her that she's been walking and talking with the ghost of the fellow who courted her grandmother,—I reckon she could find some of my letters now among the old lady's papers if she looked for them,—you'd frighten the wits out of her. She'd go crazy. I know girls' natures, sir."
"So do I," I groaned.
"Don't get excited," he said. "Let the girl alone, and every thing will be comfortable and pleasant. Good-night."
