r it talked on. She's afraid this new gal will get frightened
away like the other."

At this moment, when Biddy's ears were strained to the utmost, and her
eyes had grown large and round with horror, her mistress's voice calling
her from the other side of the house roused her with a guilty shock.
She recovered herself as well as she could and went hurriedly away, but
the knowledge which she took with her destroyed her peace of mind for
many a day. Things hitherto familiar and friendly now became full of
terror, and the comfort of her life was gone. Even her own shadow, cast
by the flickering fire and dancing in grotesque shape on the ceiling,
made her shudder; and when at night she peered timidly out of her
lattice, and saw the row of elms standing dark against the sky at the
end of the field, she shook with fear. Turning hastily from this to the
shelter of the bed-clothes she would find no refuge, but a place full of
restless fancies; for now, instead of dropping at once into a dreamless
slumber, she remained broad awake and seemed to hear fragments of the
ghost story over and over again. The "old Truslow," the flapping ears,
the terrible adventure of the last nurse-girl chased each other through
her poor little worried mind and would not be forgotten. Crazy Sall's
words came back to her, and she heard her repeat mockingly: "You don't
sleep much at nights, I reckon?"

Biddy became very miserable, for even sunshine and the baby in her arms
were powerless to drive away those dark fancies entirely, though they
then became easier to bear. It was not only the consciousness of
knowing about the ghost, but to know it _alone_ and not to talk of it to
anyone! That was doubly dreadful. Sometimes she thought she must tell
her mistress or Mrs Shivers, but then she remembered she would also
have to confess her disobedience. She could not do that, for Mrs Roy
would never trust her again, and perhaps send her away. What would
mother say then? A good place and seven pounds a year lost! It was
impossible to risk it.

So she kept silence, but it was a heavy burden to bear, and under its
weight she became downcast and gloomy, a different Biddy from the
briskly alert one of two months ago. The baby was the first to notice
this. She missed her nurse's cheerful voice, and looking up in her face
found there a settled sadness instead of the usual ready smile. This
she resented in her own fashion, and cried dismally, wrinklin