as so little that I
do not think she thought of me at all; the stories were told to my elder
brother and sister, who only laughed at them, and rather liked the sort
of "creepy" feeling of mystery which came over them as they listened.
And nobody thought of poor little Nan, fanciful and nervous, though I
did not know it, curled up in a corner, and drinking in every word.

From that moment my life was spoilt. I did not distinctly remember the
stories: I mixed them up in my mind in a dreadful jumble, and never
thought of their not being true. I grew so nervous that I hardly dared
go up stairs alone, even in broad daylight, and I shut my eyes if I
happened to be alone in a room where there were portraits, rather than
see them staring at me, as I fancied they did. But all this was nothing
to the terrors of the night, of which, even in my old age, I hardly like
to think.

[Illustration]

I slept in a little room off my mother's, and till now I had been very
proud of my own nest. But all that was past. I now shivered and
shuddered at the thought of bed-time, and would have done anything to
avoid it. No one understood me, the nurses called me "naughty"; even
dear mamma thought my temper spoilt. And no wonder, for I told _nobody_
of my secret trouble! I think it was my fear of being laughed at, and
here I would beg of "big" brothers and sisters never to laugh at little
ones' terrors however silly. Try to explain them away, to comfort the
poor tiny sufferers, but _never_ laugh at them.

[Illustration]

At last, happily for my life and health, the secret came out, and it was
in this way:--There was a recess in the wall near my bed; it had shelves
and went up nearly to the ceiling; in fact, it was like a cupboard with
the doors off. And on the top shelf stood a curious vase, about the size
of a rather fat flower-pot, of dark blue and white old Dutch stoneware.
I had never noticed it, for in the daytime very little light fell on
this corner, and I was seldom in the room except at night.

One evening I was put to bed as usual, feeling rather less frightened,
for there were friends dining at the castle, and the sound of the piano
came up to my room and cheered me.

"Leave the door open, please, I like the music," I said, and nurse did
so, and thus with less shivering and heart-throbbing than usual I fell
asleep. When I woke--quite suddenly--perhaps the shutting of the great
door, or the guests' carriages driving away had waken