As she did so, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and flooded with its silent silver the little churchyard, and from a distant copse a nightingale began to sing. She thought of the ghost's description of the Garden of Death, her eyes became dim with tears, and she hardly spoke a word during the drive home.

The next morning, before Lord Canterville went up to town, Mr Otis had an interview with him on the subject of the jewels the ghost had given to Virginia.

They were perfectly magnificent, especially a certain ruby necklace with old Venetian setting, which was really a superb specimen of sixteenth-century work, and their value was so great that Mr Otis felt considerable scruples about allowing his daughter to accept them.

'My lord,' he said, 'I know that in this country inheritance is held to apply to trinkets as well as to land, and it is quite clear to me that these jewels are, or should be, heirlooms in your family.'

'I must beg you accordingly, to take them to London with you, and to regard them simply as a portion of your property which has been restored to you under certain strange conditions.'

'As for my daughter, she is merely a child, and has as yet, I am glad to say, but little interest in such idle luxuries. I am also informed by Mrs Otis, who, I may say, is no mean authority upon Art - having had the privilege of spending several winters in Boston when she was a girl - that these gems are of great monetary worth, and if offered for sale would fetch a tall price.'