The record-union., 1897-01-31

On the ensuing day Jack turned up
Unexpectedly, few minutes before the
telegram which he had sent telling them
TO meet him at the station. He was one
of those people who are SO appreciativc
of the worlds progress that they never
correspond with anybody except by tele-
graph. The evening was rather chilly.
and there was a fire in the billiard room.
whittier they adjourned after dinner.
Capital room this, father" said Jack,
as he lit his cigar 1T makes all the diff
| ference TO the house
so it does. Jack. replied Mir Puking-
! ton. as he Knocked the balls about "Au
| the difference"
THAT bathroom is fizzer. too. Was
that Mary's idea?"
Yes, it was"
by the by" said Jack as he stood
with his back TO the fire, how are the
| ghosts getting on? They used to say
the Abbey was haunted
Mr.. Pilkington. conscious that an au-
dience of unseen Damerels were listen
| ing with pricked ears for his reply,
spoke up clearly and vigorously.
| Ghosts are publishing things" n,
said; they are not worth talking
about"
! y faint rustling of the window cur
tains cheered his hickering hopes as he
uttered this insult to his spectral ao-
quaintances. After all, he thought. they
might have changed their programme
and perhaps Sir Eustace would enter
| through the easement.
! "Confound it, said Jack. as h.
stepped up TO the curtain. Il fancied
there was a draft somewhere. How
| thoughtful of Wright TO have left the
window open" And he shut it down
with a resonant bang.
oh. ghosts are not what they were.
| eh, father
NO, Jack. nOthng's what it was"
Glad you are coming round"
I'm not saying" began his father,
that there have not been weIl-autheu-
! ticated instances"
Off he went with a good deal about
| objective and subjective phenomenon
and the theory of vision. But he deemed
it wiser TO make no mention of his own
experiences. Somehow he began to
| think they sounded improbable. and If
they Were believed, there was some
thing little humiliating about his own
defeat. After all, Jack was pleased
with the billiard room, and that was
the great thing. They had capital
game of two hundred up that very
night, in which the older player got
seventy-five start, and lost by three
points.
The month of August was passed by
Mr.. Pilkington in a state of secret sus-
pense, which, when they had shot the
covers in October had become a. state
I IyNc<
was mercifully disposed. and when
ever he could spare the time from
dancing attendance on Miss Mary or
| reading poetry to her. he showed a
diplomatic desire to please Mr.. Piiking-
ton, even 10 the extent of appearing
to agree rather than to disagree with
his well-known theories about appari-
tiOns. But he found his adversary less
| fluent upon the topic than before. as
became a disputant who had committed
a most interesting essay containing
his views upon such subjects to tho
billiard room fire. Damerel Abbey is
now one of the most comfort
ably commonplace houses in England,
and not a sound ever disturbed the
slumber of the inmates from that day
forward or, to speak more strictly. not
depreciation could not be discovered.
Mr.. Pilkington could do nothing to
bring back the specters which his red
brick and pitch pine had so effectively
laid He thinks they must have mi
grated to some building where they
could have matters more their own
way, for even the Cavalier DamereI
never approached him again with any
further proposals about coming TO an
understanding.
l believe his surmise was quite accu-
rate. For the fact was that having
once burned his boats. he maintained
a consistent attitude of hostility toward
the ghostly occupants of the Abbey.
The electric light soon blazed in every
corner of the house, with a dynamo
UP at the stables which created a dis
turbance that would have drowned the
rattle of the priests fetters, even if he
had continued to walk up and down
the stairs. But the most studied in
suit he kept to the next year, when.
shortly after the academy closed, there
appeared among the somber pictures
of the Damerels in the dining-room a
full-length portrait of the first of the
Pilkingtons. Painted by a skillful
brush, the lips of the worthy gentle
man wear curious smile, which Mrs
Pilkington declares she never saw on
the face of her Thomas. There is
something. she says. just the least little
bit malicious about it.-Afred Coch-
rane in Longmans.