The Ghost of Guir House

"But I told you that you would be expected to have a good appetite."

"And I have. In fact, when I think of it, I am ravenous," he

answered.

"Then follow me," she said, leading the way toward a heavily-curtained

door upon the right. They passed into a narrow passage, and then,

turning to the left, entered a softly-lighted room. Paul was amazed

at the sight that met his eyes. A round table, set for two, loaded

with flowers, cut glass, and silver, and lighted with wax candles

grouped under a large central shade of yellow silk, with a deep

fringe of the same material. The distant parts of the room were in

comparative shadow forming a proper setting for the soft candle-light

in the center. Evidently no one else was expected, and Dorothy, taking

her seat upon one side of the cloth, requested Paul to sit opposite.

"And will not Ah Ben be with us?" inquired Henley, glancing around to

see if the old man were not coming.

"I'm afraid not," replied Dorothy; "he rarely dines at this hour."

If Mr. Henley had been told of the reception awaiting him at Guir

House before leaving New York, he would doubtless have considered it

a hoax. As it was, he was astounded. The odd character of the house

and its inmates had already given him much ground for thought, even

amazement; but to suddenly find himself face to face, tete-a-tete

with a bewitching girl, at a gorgeous dinner table, laid for them

only, was a condition of things calculated to turn any ordinary man's

head. Never for an instant had the girl given the slightest intimation

of why he, or rather the original Henley, had been wanted, and every

effort to gain a clew of his business was thwarted--sometimes, it

seemed, intentionally. The table was deftly waited upon by the same

dumb man, who was a man-of-all-work and marvelous capacity, but his

orders were invariably given by signals. Paul wondered if he were

mistaken; could it be another servant with the same affliction? But

that seemed incredible.

Miss Guir's eloquent face, her wonderful hair and eyes, doubtless

interfered with Paul in the full enjoyment of his meal. In fact, he

was bewildered--dazed. He could neither account for the situation or

the growing beauty of the girl. Was it the candle-light that had

proved so becoming? But there was another matter that disturbed him,

perhaps, quite as much as this. It was the fact that Dorothy would

not eat. Scarcely a mouthful of food passed her lips, although the

dishes were of the daintiest, and she barely tasted many which she

recommended heartily to him. Was she ill? or was it not the usual

hour for her evening meal? Manlike, Henley was distressed for

anything not endowed with a hearty appetite, and after the long cool

drive he was sure she ought to be hungry. When he ventured to allude

to the fact, and to remark that neither she nor Ah Ben ate like

country people, the girl only smiled and declared that they both ate

quite enough for their health, although she would never undertake to

judge for others. With this he had to be satisfied.