furniture in
them; and one is generally full of apples; and the bats get in
sometimes, under the eaves, and flop about till we go up with
hair-brushes and things and drive 'em out; but there's nothing else in
them that I know of.'

'O, but there must be more than bats,' he cried. 'Don't tell me there
are no ghosts. I shall be deeply disappointed if there aren't any
ghosts.'

I did not think it worth while to reply, feeling really unequal to this
sort of conversation. Besides, we were nearing the house, when my task
would be ended. Aunt Eliza met us at the door, and in the cross-fire of
adjectives that ensued--both of them talking at once, as grown-up folk
have a habit of doing--we two slipped round to the back of the house,
and speedily put several broad acres between us and civilisation, for
fear of being ordered in to tea in the drawing-room. By the time we
returned, our new importation had gone up to dress for dinner, so till
the morrow at least we were free of him.

Meanwhile the March wind, after dropping a while at sundown, had been
steadily increasing in volume; and although I fell asleep at my usual
hour, about midnight I was wakened by the stress and the cry of it. In
the bright moonlight, wind-swung branches tossed and swayed eerily
across the blinds; there was rumbling in chimneys, whistling in
keyholes, and everywhere a clamour and a call. Sleep was out of the
question, and, sitting up in bed, I looked round. Edward sat up too. 'I
was wondering when you were going to wake,' he said. 'It's no good
trying to sleep through this. _I_ vote we get up and do something.'

'I'm game,' I replied. 'Let's play at being in a ship at sea' (the
plaint of the old house under the buffeting wind suggested this,
naturally); 'and we can be wrecked on an island, or left on a raft,
whichever you choose; but I like an island best myself, because there's
more things on it.'

Edward on reflection negatived the idea. 'It would make too much noise,'
he pointed out. 'There's no fun playing at ships, unless you can make a
jolly good row.'

The door creaked, and a small figure in white slipped cautiously in.
'Thought I heard you talking,' said Charlotte. 'We don't like it; we're
afraid--Selina too! She'll be here in a minute. She's putting on her new
dressing-gown she's so proud of.'

His arms round his knees, Edward cogitated deeply until Selina appeared,
barefooted, and looking slim and tall in the new dressing-gown. Then,
'L