ere was something wrong with the house.

"'I knew folks acted queer when they asked me how I liked it when we
first came here,' says Mrs. Dennison, 'but I never dreamed why till we
saw the child that night.'

"I never heard anything like it in my life," said Mrs. Emerson, staring
at the other woman with awestruck eyes.

"I thought you'd say so," said Mrs. Meserve. "You don't wonder that I
ain't disposed to speak light when I hear there is anything queer about
a house, do you?"

"No, I don't, after that," Mrs. Emerson said.

"But that ain't all," said Mrs. Meserve.

"Did you see it again?" Mrs. Emerson asked.

"Yes, I saw it a number of times before the last time. It was lucky I
wasn't nervous, or I never could have stayed there, much as I liked the
place and much as I thought of those two women; they were beautiful
women, and no mistake. I loved those women. I hope Mrs. Dennison will
come and see me sometime.

"Well, I stayed, and I never knew when I'd see that child. I got so I
was very careful to bring everything of mine upstairs, and not leave
any little thing in my room that needed doing, for fear she would come
lugging up my coat or hat or gloves or I'd find things done when
there'd been no live being in the room to do them. I can't tell you
how I dreaded seeing her; and worse than the seeing her was the hearing
her say, 'I can't find my mother.' It was enough to make your blood
run cold. I never heard a living child cry for its mother that was
anything so pitiful as that dead one. It was enough to break your heart.

"She used to come and say that to Mrs. Bird oftener than to any one
else. Once I heard Mrs. Bird say she wondered if it was possible that
the poor little thing couldn't really find her mother in the other
world, she had been such a wicked woman.

"But Mrs. Dennison told her she didn't think she ought to speak so nor
even think so, and Mrs. Bird said she shouldn't wonder if she was
right. Mrs. Bird was always very easy to put in the wrong. She was a
good woman, and one that couldn't do things enough for other folks. It
seemed as if that was what she lived on. I don't think she was ever so
scared by that poor little ghost, as much as she pitied it, and she was
'most heartbroken because she couldn't do anything for it, as she could
have done for a live child.

"'It seems to me sometimes as if I should die if I can't get that awful
little white robe off that child and get her in so