Bishop's Mitre or Cardinal's Hat?

The Carstone family headed off to spend Easter in Prague, (which allowed me the opportunity to take a few days off to spend with my family). They are returning home at the end of the week, and I am already back at work, and trying to ensure that everything will be in tip top condition at the House for when they return.

Friday evening was not an unqualified success. I hardly expected it to be. Llywelyn, from the very beginning, had the fevered gleam in his eye of the true believer. I just wanted to be tucked up in my nice snug bed. I still haven't finished my Brian Johnstone book. I met him (Llywelyn not Brian Johnstone), as he requested, at the Tradesman's Entrance at 10pm. He didn't bring his volume of 'Carstone's supernatural history' with him. I think he would have required some sort of trolley, or durable pack horse, in order to do so in any case. All the stories and tales have, no doubt, been confined to his memory long ago.

Our first point of call was the State Dining Room, where, Llywelyn breathlessly explained, the ghostly image of King Charles I, or "a figure very like him" had been spotted at alarmingly regular intervals. We stayed there for about fifteen minutes, but nothing appeared to break the silence and serenity of a room, which even in the semi-darkness still seemed to radiate more majesty than any spectral monarch, headless or otherwise, could have managed. I also noticed that a leg of one of the chairs at the Dining Table seemed to be slightly wonky. I will have to see to that before the family return from Prague.

I then followed Llywelyn to several other rooms, and although I found his stories to be fascinating and wonderfully well told (I think he should seriously consider publishing a book on them. Surely there would be a call for a slimmer, more concise book on the ghosts of Carstone House, that locals could purchase and take home with them without running the risk of acquiring a hernia) I found my mind wandering to other things: should the cushion covers in the Chintz Room be cleaned again? Was that a speck of dirt on the face of the longcase clock in the Family Dining Room? Would Mr Miles be joining the family next week-end? Was the chandelier really as secure as I thought (I could swear it moved slightly as we left the room)? Should I fold the napkins on the Dining Room table in the bishops mitre, cardinal's hat, or arum lily style, for the week-end?

If Lywelyn had known that while he was telling his heart-stopping, blood curdling, flesh creeping tales, his audience had been mentally pondering the merits of the Bishops Mitre, as opposed to the Cardinal's Hat, he would have thought: "I have lost him." He might well have been right.

I felt rather guilty since Mr Llywelyn had put in so much effort. We did not see or experience anything. I think the ghosts were rather inconsiderate. They could have at least clanked a few chains, or slammed a door (not too hard though, we would not have wanted to wake anybody up), but they were obviously not interested in us. The only 'ghostly' thing I heard was a wail coming from the Game Larder, which on further investigation turned out to be Simon, the Footman. Sigh. Standards are slipping when footmen are pretending to be ghosts. He did not wear a sheet over his head though, so I suppose that was a blessing.