when Miss Timpson was there. And, of course, when they
tell me how old Mr. Eldredge snored in that very room when he was dyin',
and how Miss Timpson's sister snored when SHE was sick, it--it--"

"Oh, stop, Auntie! You will have ME believing in--in things, if you keep
on. It's nonsense and you and I will prove it so before I go back to
Middleboro. Now you must go to bed."

"Yes, I'm goin'. Well, if there is a ghost in that room it'll have its
hands full with Sol Cobb. He's a tough old critter, if ever there was
one. Good night, Emily."

"Good night, Aunt Thankful. Don't worry about the--ha! ha!--ghost, will
you?"

"No, I've got enough to worry about this side of the grave. . . . Mercy!
what's the matter?"

"Nothing! I--I thought I heard a noise in--in the hall. I didn't
though."

"No, course you didn't. Shall I go to your room with you?"

"No indeed! I--I should be ashamed to have you. Where is Imogene?"

"She's up in her room. She went to bed early. Goodness! Hear that wind.
It cries like--like somethin' human."

"It's dreadful. It is enough to make anyone think. . . . There! If you
and I talk any longer we shall both be behaving like children. Good
night."

"Good night, Emily. Is Georgie asleep at last?"

"I think so. I haven't heard a sound from him. Call me early, Auntie."

Thankful lit her own lamp; Emily took the one already lighted and
hastened down the hall. Thankful shut the door and prepared for bed.
The din of the storm was terrific. The old house shook as if it
were trembling with fright and screaming in the agony of approaching
dissolution. It was a long time before Thankful fell asleep, but at last
she did.

She was awakened by a hand upon her arm and a voice whispering in her
ear.

"Auntie!" whispered Emily. "Auntie, wake up! Oh, DO wake up!"

Thankful was broad awake in a moment. She sat up in bed. The room was in
black darkness, and she felt rather than saw Miss Howes standing beside
her.

"What is it, Emily?" she cried. "What is the matter?"

"Hush, hush! Don't speak so loud. Get up! Get up and light the lamp."

Thankful sprang out of bed and hunted for the matchbox. She found it
after a time and the lamp was lighted. Emily, wearing a wrapper over her
night clothes, was standing by the door, apparently listening. Her face
was white and she was trembling.

"What IS it?" whispered Thankful.

"Hush! I don't know what it is. Listen!"

Thankful listened. All she heard were the noi