ostly visitant----"

"Oh," said William, suddenly enlightened, "you talkin' about
_ghosts_?"

"Yes, ghosts, William."

Her air of deference flattered him. She evidently expected great
things of him. Great things she should have. At the best of times with
William imagination was stronger than cold facts.

He gave a short laugh.

"Oh, _ghosts_! Yes, I've seen some of 'em. I guess I _have_!"

Her face lit up.

"Will you tell me some of your experiences, William?" she said,
humbly.

"Well," said William, loftily, "you won't go _talkin'_ about it, will
you?"

"Oh, _no_."

"Well, I've seen 'em, you know. Chains an' all. And skeletons. And
ghostly arms beckonin' an' all that."

William was enjoying himself. He walked with a swagger. He almost
believed what he said. She gasped.

"Oh, go on!" she said. "Tell me all."

He went on. He soared aloft on the wings of imagination, his hands in
his pockets, his freckled face puckered up in frowning mental effort.
He certainly enjoyed himself.

"If only some of it could happen to _me_," breathed his confidante.
"Does it come to you at _nights_, William?"

"Yes," nodded William. "Nights mostly."

"I shall--watch to-night," said Cousin Mildred. "And you say the house
is old?"

"Awful old," said William, reassuringly.

Her attitude to William was a relief to the rest of the family.
Visitors sometimes objected to William.

"She seems to have almost taken to William," said his mother, with a
note of unflattering incredulity in her voice.

William was pleased yet embarrassed by her attentions. It was a
strange experience to him to be accepted by a grown-up as a
fellow-being. She talked to him with interest and a certain humility,
she bought him sweets and seemed pleased that he accepted them, she
went for walks with him, and evidently took his constrained silence
for the silence of depth and wisdom.

Beneath his embarrassment he was certainly pleased and flattered. She
seemed to prefer his company to that of Ethel. That was one in the
eye for Ethel. But he felt that something was expected from him in
return for all this kindness and attention. William was a sportsman.
He decided to supply it. He took a book of ghost stories from the
juvenile library at school, and read them in the privacy of his room
at night. Many were the thrilling adventures which he had to tell to
Cousin Mildred in the morning. Cousin Mildred's bump of credulity was
a large one. She supplied