I am not surprised, you know, with one of your temperament, but do you
know, young man, you might catch your death of cold, indulging your
grief in the morning dew on a cold gravestone. You must be--really, my
dear sir--you must be insane." "Doctor," said I, "we may meet another time, when I may have more to say
to you. For the present leave me. I arrived here early this morning,
having been invited to a friend's house. It is time for me to make my
appearance. Till we meet again, farewell. And, doctor," said I, "you
will keep this matter secret, eh?" "Very well," said he, with a smile which seemed to me forced in order to
disguise his emotion, for I noticed that he turned away his head
suddenly, shook my hand, and walked away hurriedly. We had both of us left the cemetery, and about half-a-mile further on
led me to the door of my friend's house. I tried to assume an air of indifference before my friend, and
discoursed on various topics; nevertheless, he noticed that my hand
trembled, and that I seemed distracted. I said I had been a little out
of health lately, and was glad of a little change of air. "My doctor, Mr. Merrivale," said he, "will be here to-day to look at the
children. If you would like to see him----"

"Thank you, thank you; but I hope it is nothing worth mentioning." In the afternoon Merrivale arrived, and I managed to find an opportunity
of speaking with him alone. I inquired after the family E----n, and was
informed that Maud had died suddenly in a trance, and he had been called
too late. That her two sisters were engaged to be married. That Maud had
spoken much of me before her last fit, and had given out some strange
mysterious hints of a certain power I had over her, and nothing could
induce her mother and sisters to believe otherwise than that I had cast
an evil spell over her. He added that her father was more reasonable, and did not believe in
those things. The family would be sure to hear of my arrival in the
village, therefore I resolved to call on an early opportunity. I did so,
and was well received by Maud's father, he having been intimate with
mine, but by the mother and sisters with rigid coldness. They did not
even offer me their hand. I expected this, but nevertheless felt it my
duty to call. I made some slight allusion to Maud's death in as delicate
a way as I could, but was checked in the midst of my remarks by scornful
glances from the mother and sisters. I left the house, and I need hardly say that this was my last call on
that family, although the master of the house wrung my hand cordially,
and said he should be always glad to see me when chance led me to those
parts. I returned to my friend's house, where I tried to divert myself with a
week's shooting. I frequently met my friend Merrivale. We used to take
walks together sometimes. In one of our rambles I recounted to him all
the particulars of the evening of the 31st of December, when I had last
seen and spoken to Maud in the spirit at the theatre. He marvelled, but was silent. *       *       *       *       *

By the time the tragedian had finished his recital, our friends had
arrived at the door of the inn, where their host's pretty daughter
waited to receive them. "Well, Helen, my dear," said Mr. Oldstone. "Is the breakfast ready? We
have had a long story, and we are all very hungry." "Yes, sir," answered the maiden; "everything is on the table. I'll run
and fetch the eggs. I put them in to boil when I saw you coming in the
distance. The toast and rolls are hot, and all in order." "Bravo! Helen, bravo!" said Professor Cyanite, rubbing his hands. "By my troth, Helen," said our artist, "if I wanted an appetite your
bright eyes would be enough to give me one." Helen blushed and smiled, and skipped lightly away to see after the
eggs. "Ah! here is a breakfast fit for a king," said Mr. Crucible, as Helen
re-entered with a tray. "And all made with her own fair hands, too, I'll warrant," said McGuilp. "What makes you blush so much of late, Helen?" asked Mr. Hardcase. "Oh, what a shame to tease the poor child," said Mr. Parnassus, with
tenderness. "Ah! Helen," sighed Dr. Bleedem, "your health and rosy cheeks are worth
all my drugs." "'I would I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that
cheek,'" quoted the tragedian from his favourite "Romeo and Juliet." "Order, order!" cried various other members at once. At that moment our host entered to call away his daughter, so Helen was
spared further banter. As the meal proceeded the company began to dispute who should tell the
next story. Of those present who had not yet entertained the company
with a tale were Mr. Crucible and Mr. Oldstone. One of the two _must_
tell a story, as the club decreed, but as each of these gentlemen wished
to lay the burden of the story upon the shoulders of the other, nothing
seemed likely to be settled. Accordingly, after the breakfast things had been removed dice were
called for, and it was agreed that whoever should throw the highest
should tell the story. Our host soon returned with the dice-box, and
remained to see which of the two gentlemen should throw the higher
number. Mr. Oldstone seized the dice-box, and shaking it well, threw double
five. It was now Mr. Crucible's turn, so taking the dice-box from the
hand of the first thrower, and rattling it twice or thrice, he threw the
number twelve. "Now then, Crucible," said Mr. Oldstone, laughing, "no shirking, but let
us have the story at once." "What! so soon after breakfast!" exclaimed Mr. Crucible, "and before we
have had time to digest the last properly." "I hope you will excuse my presence here gentlemen," said Mr. Hardcase,
"for I have a case to attend to." "Now really, Hardcase, that's too bad," ejaculated Mr. Oldstone. At this moment a servant arrived hurriedly at the "Headless Lady," to
call away Dr. Bleedem to see a patient. "Really, gentlemen," said the doctor, "I am very sorry, but business
_is_ business." "Business! business!" exclaimed Mr. Oldstone, in horror at such a word
being uttered within the sacred precincts of the club. "Business! Ugh!" Professor Cyanite, too, had a great scientific work which he was getting
ready for the press, and begged also to be allowed to withdraw. "Well, gentlemen," said Mr. Oldstone, "this is really very provoking. I
cannot think what ails you all this morning. Since our club is reft of
three such staunch members, there seems nothing else to be done but to
defer the story until the evening, when there will be no excuse for
anyone to be absent." This was agreed to, and the remaining inmates of the "Headless Lady"
began to while away the time each after his own manner. Our artist began
a portrait of the landlord's pretty daughter. Mr. Blackdeed, who was
only here for the holidays, sat to work to finish a tragedy that he had
begun. Mr. Parnassus composed an ode.