lying to himself. This girl was different from the ordinary run of
girls; she might become dangerous. He determined then and there not to
prolong his visit more than three or four days; just to satisfy her
that there was no ghost in the chimney. Then he would return to New
York. He had no more right than Breitmann to fall in love with the
daughter of a millionaire. Loving her was not impossible, but leaving
at an early day would go toward lessening the probability. He was not
afraid of Breitmann; he was foreigner enough to accept at once his
place, and to appreciate that he and this girl stood at the two ends of
the world.

And Breitmann's mind, which had, up to this time, been deep and
unruffled as a pool, became strangely disturbed.

The time moved on to luncheon. Breitmann took the part of listener,
and spoke only when addressed.

"I must tell you, Mr. Breitmann," said Laura, "that a ghost has
returned to us."

"A ghost?" interestedly.

"Yes. My daughter," said the admiral tolerantly, "believes that she
hears strange noises at night, tapping, and such like."

"Oh!" politely. Breitmann broke his bread idly. It was too bad. She
had not produced upon him the impression that she was the sort of woman
whose imagination embraced the belief in spirits. "Where does this
ghost do its tapping?"