"I vote we go downstairs," suggested Morvyth. "I don't want to play
any more hide-and-seek at present."

Nobody else seemed anxious to pursue the game. The attics were too
charged with the occult to be entirely pleasant. Everybody made a
unanimous stampede for the lower story, passing down the winding
staircase with a sense of relief. Once on familiar ground again,
things looked more cheery.

"Back already?" commented Miss Gibbs, who had met them on the
landing.

"Yes, we're all--er--a little tired!" evaded Hermie, with one of her
conscious blushes.

"Better go to the dining-room and get out your sewing, then," replied
the mistress, eyeing her keenly.

The girls proceeded soberly downstairs, still keeping close together
like a flock of sheep. Raymonde, however, lagged behind. For a moment
or two she stood pondering, then she ran swiftly up the winding
staircase again into the attic.

The talk of the school that evening turned solely upon the ghost girl.
Meta, who had not seen the vision, declared it was nothing but
over-excited imagination, and feared that some people were apt to get
hysterical; at which Hermie retorted that no one could be further from
hysteria than herself, and that six independent witnesses could
scarcely imagine the same thing at the same moment, without some basis
for their common report. Veronica considered that they had entered
unwittingly into a psychic circle, and encountered either a
thought-form that had materialized, or a phantasm of the living.

"Some people have capacities for astral vision that others don't
possess," she said in a lowered voice. "It's quite probable that
Hermie may be clairvoyante."

Hermie sighed interestedly. It was pleasanter to be dubbed
clairvoyante than hysterical. She had always felt that Meta did not
appreciate her.

"We've none of us been trained to realize our spiritual
possibilities," she replied, her eyes wide and thoughtful.

While a few girls disbelieved entirely in the spectre, and others
accepted the explanation according to Veronica's occult theories, most
of the school considered the attic to be haunted by a plain
old-fashioned ghost, such as anybody might expect to find in an
ancient mansion like the Grange. They waived the subject of modern
costume, deciding that in the dim light such details could hardly have
been adequately distinguished, and that the apparition must have been
a cavalier or Jacobite maiden, whose heart-rending story was