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"You are to prove that he's now gone after some girl, and that that girl's name is Rosalie."

"Not a bit of it—there you quibble. No; the bet's off—I'll not bet with any man who quibbles."

"I don't at all quibble: but I didn't think you would make such a bet as that."

"Look you here," said Obadiah; "you'll turn up a Tory—now mark you that. I've long had my suspicions; but if you don't vote for the fructifying Tories, at the very next election, you'll wholly surprise me. I'm ashamed of you, Pokey, as true as I'm alive; and so I'll leave you to your reflections. Good day."

As Obadiah left, Pokey smiled; knowing well, that although he couldn't compete with him in talking, he had but to pin him to a point and he was done.

During the whole of that morning, Mrs. Delolme and Aunt Eleanor were conversing on the subject of supernatural appearances, which is at all times, and especially with the ladies, a prolific and highly interesting theme. The conversation sprang, of course, out of that morning's marvel; and although Mrs. Delolme had entertained the belief that Tom had himself placed the skeleton there, she felt herself eventually constrained to admit that it was possible—just possible—that the spirit which formerly inhabited that skeleton had caused it to walk to the window alone. She would, however, give no opinion on the point: that she reserved until she had consulted Mr. Terre. She was sure that he would be able to settle the question; and, as she felt that he was inspired—as she religiously believed that he had divine authority for every word he uttered—it was, in her judgment, altogether impossible that any opinion which he might express upon any subject could be wrong. She, therefore, calmly waited to consult her oracle. But the feelings of Aunt Eleanor were of a more distressing caste: the mystery affected her far more deeply. The idea of a spirit—if a spirit it really were—following her thus, and being visible only when she was near—inspired her with the most intense feelings of alarm. Her thoughts again reverted to her broken-hearted brother. The death-bed scene was again before her: she again heard his last declaration of innocence; and as her former apprehensions, that, to comfort her, he had uttered a falsehood with his dying breath, again came strong upon her, her affliction was poignant in the extreme. This, however, she thought it prudent to conceal from Mrs. Delolme. She had no confidence in her judgment. She could not speak to her as to an affectionate friend; she could not unbosom herself freely; she was not a friend to whom she could open her whole heart, knowing well that if she did, instead of deriving consolation, she should be rendered still more wretched. She was, therefore, on that point silent. She conversed, indeed, freely on the subject of supernatural appearances in general, but the immediate source of her own peculiar sorrows she did not disclose.

At the same time the doctor, Tom, and Sylvester were conversing on the same subject, but in a more philosophical strain, in the study. The idea of there being anything supernatural in the removal of the skeleton from the position in which it usually stood to the trap, they unanimously