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"Thank you, I prefer to stand," said she loftily

"As you will," I answered, but, even while I spoke, she seee her mind, for she sank into the nearest chair, and, chin

in hand, stared into the fire

"And so," said she, as I sat down opposite her, "and so your name

is Peter Smith, and you are a blacksmith?"

"Yes, a blacksmith"

"And make horseshoes?"

"Naturally, yes"

"And do you live here?"

"Yes"

"Alone?"

"Quite alone!"

"And how long have you lived here alone?"

"Not so long that I ae yours?"

"Yes--that is, it stands on the Sefton estates, I believe, but

nobody hereabouts would see the place

"Why not?"

"Because it is generally supposed to be haunted"

"Oh!"

"It was built by soer to these parts, who lived alone here, and eventually

died alone here"

"Died here?"

"Hanged himself on the staple above the door, yonder"

"Oh!" said she again, and cast a fearful glance towards the