"She had a fall," said Bessie，again putting in her word.

"Fall! why，that is like a baby again! Can"t she manage to walk at her age? She must be eight or nine years old."

"I was knocked down," was the blunt explanation，jerked out of me by another pang of mortified pride; "but that did not make me ill,"

I added; while Mr. Lloyd helped himself to a pinch of snuff.

As he was returning the box to his waistcoat pocket，a loud bell rang for the servants" dinner; he knew what it was. "That"s for you，nurse," said he; "you can go down; I"ll give Miss Jane a lecture till you e back."

Bessie would rather have stayed，but she was obliged to go，because punctuality at meals was rigidly enforced at Gates-head Hall.

"The fall did not make you ill; what did，then?" pursued Mr.Lloyd when Bessie was gone.

"I was shut up in a room where there is a ghost till after dark."

I saw Mr. Lloyd smile and frown at the same time. "Ghost! What，you are a baby after all! You are afraid of ghosts?"

"Of Mr. Reed"s ghost I am: he died in that room，and was laid out there. Neither Bessie nor any one else will go into it at night，if they can help it; and it was cruel to shut me up alone without a candle,- so cruel that I think I shall never forget it."

"Nonsense! And is it that makes you so miserable? Are you afraid now in daylight?"

"No: but night will e again before long: and besides,- I am unhappy,- very unhappy，for other things."

"What other thingury Gothic" size="2"it implied a long journey，an entire separation from Gateshead，an entrance into a new life.