'Come, let us have the whole story,' said Philip. 'Was it your own
reflection in the glass? was it old sir Hugh? or was it the murderer of
Becket? Come, the ladies are both ready to scream at the right moment.
Never mind about giving him a cocked-hat, for with whom may you take a
liberty, if not with an ancestral ghost of your own?'

Amy could not think how Philip could have gone on all this time;
perhaps it was because he was not watching how Guy's colour varied, how
he bit his lip; and at last his eyes seemed to grow dark in the middle,
and to sparkle with fire, as with a low, deep tone, like distant
thunder, conveying a tremendous force of suppressed passion, he
exclaimed, 'Beware of trifling--' then breaking off hastened out of the
room.

'What's the matter?' asked Mr. Edmonstone, startled from his nap; and
his wife looked up anxiously, but returned to her book, as her nephew
replied, 'Nothing.'

'How could you Philip?' said Laura.

'I really believe he has seen it!' said Amy, in a startled whisper.

'He has felt it, Amy--the Morville spirit,' said Philip.

'It is a great pity you spoke of putting a cocked hat to it,' said
Laura; 'he must have suspected us of telling you what happened about
Mrs. Brownlow.'

'And are you going to do it now?' said her sister in a tone of
remonstrance.