s _me_ to
be good; it tires me all up.

"And here it is, as dark as a pickpocket." (Dotty raised her head and
took a survey.) "Why, the moon can't get here, nor the sun. Is this down
cellar? No, I didn't see any stairs. Where did I go to when I came? I
walked right on the floor. What floor? Was it the dining-room, or was it
out doors? I didn't look at it to see.

"This is a 'cuddy.' There's ever so many 'cuddies' in this house to hide
in. I've gone and hid. Nobody'll ever find me. My father'll say, 'Why,
where's that child?' And my mother'll say, 'I don't know.' And they'll
hunt all over the house; and I shall keep my head in my apron, and won't
say a word.

"Then Prudy'll say, 'O, my darling sister Dotty! How sweet and good she
was!'

"And they'll think I'm dead! And Susy'll cry out loud, and tell Percy,
and he'll say, 'O, how sorry I am I said "I devise you to let that child
alone"!'"

Dotty sighed as she pictured to herself Percy's conscience-stricken
face.

"And that girl that called me a bad sister--how _she'll_ feel! And
Johnny--I guess Johnny won't say 'cross party' any more!

"Grandma--why, grandma'll read the Bible. And O, such a time!

"That Angeline girl will remember how she rocked that darling Dotty, and
told me stories."

Dotty was seized with a sudden shivering. The stories came back to her
mind vividly. If Angeline had told her simple little tales of every-day
life, Dotty might have forgotten them; but, like all children, she had
an active imagination, and anything marvellous or horrible made a deep
impression.

The current of her thoughts was changed as soon as she remembered those
unknown ghosts of Angeline's description.

"All white, wrapped in a sheet. Put a knife through, and they don't know
it. No blood, no bones, no anything. Go through a keyhole. Will they,
though? Prudy don't believe it. Am I anywhere near a keyhole? I don't
know. I've gone and hid, and I can't find myself. I'm somewhere, but I
don't know where."

Dotty began to feel very uncomfortable. There was no longer the
slightest satisfaction in the thought of frightening the family. She
was frightened herself, and with the worst kind of fear--the fear of the
supernatural.

"I can't see the leastest thing, and I can't hear anything, either.
Ghosts don't make any noise. May be there are some in this house: been
locked up, and the man didn't know it."

The silence seemed to grow deeper. Dotty could hear her heart beat.