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Was there really something Eastern about her appearance? He would never have thought it but for those few words of Varick's. Many English girls have that clear olive complexion, those large, shadowy dark eyes, which yet can light up into daring, fun, and mischief. But, alas! the story of Span even this early chapter of the story of his stay at Wyndfell Hall had not a happy ending.
To tell the truth, Miss Farrow had not forgotten Bubbles when she had assented to Lionel Varick's suggestion that rich, if dull-witted, James Tapster should be included in the party. In what was called the moat garden of Wyndfell Hall, twilight was deepening into night.
We're late as it is." It had been Bubbles' happy idea that the children of the tiny hamlet which lay half-a-mile from Wyndfell Hall, should have a Christmas tree. Hers, also, that the treat for the children was to be combined with the distribution of a certain amount of coal and of other creature comforts to the older folk.
From thence it had reached the last house where she had been staying before she had come to Wyndfell Hall. The wonderful thing was that the letter had reached her at all. But she was very glad it had come, if only at long last. After her letter was finished, she suddenly felt that she must put in a word to account for the delay in her answer to what should have received an immediate reply.
"Do you mean driving out the devil by means of a religious ceremony?" he asked incredulously. "Yes," said Sir Lyon, "I do exactly mean that. As you are probably aware, there is a form of exorcism still in common use. And if I were our host here, I should have Wyndfell Hall exorcised, preferably by a Roman Catholic priest, as soon as Miss Bubbles is safely off the premises."
"I suppose that, according to your theory" it was now Varick who was speaking, speaking rather lightly, twirling his stick about as he spoke "I suppose," he repeated, "that, according to your theory, if Bubbles Dunster left Wyndfell Hall to-morrow, the spirits would cease from troubling, and we should be at rest?" "No, that doesn't exactly follow.
"Miss Brabazon is here, now, at Wyndfell Hall," exclaimed Blanche. "You must have heard of her, Mark? She's the owner of some tremendously big city business." "Oh, I don't think it can be that girl!" Mark Gifford looked surprised and perturbed. "But I know it's that girl. She's become quite a friend of mine, and of Bubbles.
There are times when what one must call for want of a better term the social rites of existence interfere most unwarrantably with the elemental happenings of life. But on this first evening at Wyndfell Hall the coming of coffee and of liqueurs proved a welcome diversion.
"Gifford," supplied the other quickly. "Yes, I have been slightly acquainted with Mr. Varick for some years." A very uncomfortable, peculiar look came over the speaker's face. "I wonder if you have heard of the terrible thing which happened yesterday at Wyndfell Hall?" he asked abruptly. "I only left the house at five o'clock," exclaimed Dr.
A small platform had been erected across one end of the room. But the programme of the proceedings which were to take place thereon only contained two items. The first of these took most of the Wyndfell Hall house-party completely by surprise; for Bubbles and her aunt had kept their secret well. For a moment no one, except Bill Donnington, guessed who or what the figure was.
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