‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. Great stone staircases leading no one knew whither, and long gloomy passages, impressed the occasional visitor with the idea that he was traversing a building of vast extent; and, though this was not the case in reality, the deception was so cleverly contrived that it seldom failed of producing the intended effect. The G. I see. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution.
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