Apparently Beth had not yet given him any encouragement.

Going down the lane my lantern underwent a total eclipse, so we had a
Jordan-like road to travel. Miss Frayne was quite impervious to
unfavorable conditions, as it was a matter of bread and butter to her,
she said, and she was accustomed to braving worse storms than this,
and anyway she hadn't come here for a summer picnic.

When we came into the grove it was so dark, I lost my bearings.

"Why didn't we bring a flashlight?" asked Beth.

"There were none at the hotel," I told her.

"I know some boys," said Rob with a little laugh, "who would have lent
us one--maybe."

Fortunately we were well provided with safety matches and after
striking a box or so, we gained the open. A rise of ground hid the
house, but when we climbed to the top, the ghost loomed up ghastlier
than ever.

I felt the business-like Miss Frayne start and shiver as a little
scream escaped her. I didn't wonder. Even I, knowing that it was an
illusion and a snare, felt my flesh creeping as I looked at the
ghastly thing in the window.

Every now and then according to schedule a light flashed from the
windows below. And then came the blood-curdling sounds--whimpers and
groans that were rivaling the whistling of the wind.

"This is awful!" said Miss Frayne in a hoarse whisper.

"Do you want to go inside the house?" I asked.

"No--o! I couldn't. Not tonight."

We were some little in advance of Rob and Beth. When one spectral
sound came like a tense whisper, Miss Frayne turned and fled, and of
course I followed her. We could not see our two companions, but
suddenly in an interim of wind and ghost whispers, we heard Beth say:

"Yes, Rob. I think we should really be cosier in a story-and-a-half
cottage than we should in a bungalow."

"Ye Gods!" muttered Miss Frayne, "did he propose in the face of that
awful Thing?"

"Ship ahoy!" I called.

"Oh, didn't you go inside?" asked Rob.

"Go in! I wouldn't go inside that place; not if I lose my job on the
paper. What can it be? You don't seem to mind it, Miss Wade."

"Well, you know," said Beth apologetically, "this is my third
performance."

We were now down the hill out of sight of the gruesome, ghastly window
display, and Miss Frayne gained courage as we retreated.

"Of course I don't believe in ghosts," she said, "but what do you
suppose that is?"

"I had a theory," I said, "that it is the work of a lunatic, but I've
since conclude