"Enough's as good as a feast. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. In a fit of despondency, superinduced by drunkenness, he made away with himself; and when the body was discovered, after a lapse of some months, such was the impression produced by the spectacle —such the alarm occasioned by the crazy state of the building, and, above all, by the terror inspired by strange and unearthly noises heard during the night, which were, of course, attributed to the spirit of the suicide, that the place speedily enjoyed the reputation of being haunted, and was, consequently, entirely abandoned. Squire and master. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. I’ve got to run to get to my Study Hall.
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