that
large and rambling house. And so it happened, that one afternoon, not
long before Christmas-day, we were playing together on the
billiard-table in the great hall (not that we knew the right way of
playing, but she liked to roll the smooth ivory balls with her pretty
hands, and I liked to do whatever she did); and, by-and-by, without our
noticing it, it grew dusk indoors, though it was still light in the
open air, and I was thinking of taking her back into the nursery, when,
all of a sudden, she cried out,

'Look, Hester! look! there is my poor little girl out in the snow!'

I turned towards the long narrow windows, and there, sure enough, I saw
a little girl, less than my Miss Rosamond--dressed all unfit to be
out-of-doors such a bitter night--crying, and beating against the
window-panes, as if she wanted to be let in. She seemed to sob and
wail, till Miss Rosamond could bear it no longer, and was flying to the
door to open it, when, all of a sudden, and close upon us, the great
organ pealed out so loud and thundering, it fairly made me tremble; and
all the more, when I remembered me that, even in the stillness of that
dead-cold weather, I had heard no sound of little battering hands upon
the windowglass, although the phantom child had seemed to put forth all
its force; and, although I had seen it wail and cry, no faintest touch
of sound had fallen upon my ears. Whether I remembered all this at the
very moment, I do not know; the great organ sound had so stunned me
into terror; but this I know, I caught up Miss Rosamond before she got
the hall-door opened, and clutched her, and carried her away, kicking
and screaming, into the large, bright kitchen, where Dorothy and Agnes
were busy with their mince-pies.

'What is the matter with my sweet one?' cried Dorothy, as I bore in
Miss Rosamond, who was sobbing as if her heart would break.

'She won't let me open the door for my little girl to come in; and
she'll die if she is out on the Fells all night. Cruel, naughty
Hester,' she said, slapping me; but she might have struck harder, for I
had seen a look of ghastly terror on Dorothy's face, which made my very
blood run cold.

'Shut the back-kitchen door fast, and bolt it well,' said she to Agnes.
She said no more; she gave me raisins and almonds to quiet Miss
Rosamond; but she sobbed about the little girl in the snow, and would
not touch any of the good things. I was thankful when she cried herself
to sleep in bed.