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To our disappointment, likewise, there came an invitation from the Eastwoods for the evening of the 27th of December, the second of the recurring days of the phantom’s appearance.  My father could not, and my mother would not go, but they so much wanted my brothers and sister to accept it that it could not well be declined.  It was partly a political affair, and my father was anxious to put Clarence forward, and make him take his place as the future squire; and my mother thought depression had lasted long enough with her children, and did not like to see Martyn so grave and preoccupied.  ’It was quite right and very nice in him, dear boy, but it was not natural at his age, though he was to be a clergyman.’

As to Emily, her gentle cheerfulness had helped us all through our time of sorrow, and just now we had been gratified by the tidings of young Lawrence Frith.  That youth was doing extremely well.  There had been golden reports from manager and chaplain, addressed to Mr. Castleford, the latter adding that the young man evidently owed much to Mr. Winslow’s influence.  Moreover, Lawrence had turned out an excellent correspondent.  Long letters, worthy of forming a book of travels, came regularly to Clarence and me, indeed they were thought worth being copied into that fat clasped Ms. book in the study.  Writing them must have been a real solace to the exile, in his island outside the town, whither all the outer barbarians were relegated.  So, no doubt, was the packing of the gifts that were gradually making Prospect Cottage into a Chinese exhibition of nodding mandarins, ivory balls, exquisite little cups, and faggots of tea.  Also, a Chinese walking doll was sent humbly as an offering for the amusement of Miss Winslow’s school children, whom indeed she astonished beyond measure; and though her wheels are out of order, and her movements uncertain, she is still a stereotyped incident in the Christmas entertainments.

There was no question but that these letters and remembrances gave great pleasure to Emily; but I believe she was not in the least conscious that though greater in degree, it was not of the same quality as that she felt when a runaway scholar who had gone to sea presented her in token of gratitude with a couple of dried sea-horses.

CHAPTER XL—­THE MIDNIGHT CHASE

’What human creature in the dead of night
   Had coursed, like hunted hare, that cruel distance,
Had sought the door, the window in her flight
   Striving for dear existence?’

Hood.

On the night of the 26th of December, Clarence and Martyn, well wrapped in greatcoats, stole into the outer mullion room; but though the usual sounds were heard, and the mysterious light again appeared, Martyn perceived nothing else, and even Clarence declared that if there were anything besides, it was far less distinct to him than it had been previously.  Could it be that his spiritual perceptions were growing dimmer as he became older, and outgrew the sensitiveness of nerves and imagination?