very straight. Two spirits on the scene of Grandpa
Woggles' passing made the story more interesting, more thrilling. Her
sparkling eyes gave a new impetus to the colored woman's wagging
tongue.

"The white spirit, he sez, 'What _you_ hangin' round here fer?'"

Matty rolled her eyes upward. "This he sez to the black one, mind
you!"

Virginia nodded comprehendingly, keeping her eyes glued on the shining
dark face in front of her. She always dreaded, during the exciting
parts of Matty's nightly stories, to see, by chance, the garden, with
its trees and the white, silent graveyard beyond. And, although she
had no fear of tangible things, she seldom looked out of doors when
Matty crooned over her ghost stories.

Just then a bell pealed through the house.

Matty rose heavily.

"It's yer pa," she grumbled. "I'll finish when I git back."

Through the door the woman hobbled, while Virginia bent over Milly
Ann, stroking her softly with a new expression of gravity on the young
face. Many a day, in fancy, she had dreamed of her father's
homecoming. He was very different than her dreams. Still she hoped the
doctor might have made a mistake about his dying. A smile came to the
corners of her mouth, touched the dimples in her cheek, but did not
wipe the tragedy from her eyes. She was planning how tenderly she
would care for him, how cheerful he'd be when she played her fiddle
for him.

She heard Matty groping up the stairs--heard her pass down the hall
and open the door. Then suddenly she caught the sound of hurried steps
and the woman coming down again. Matty had crawled up, but was almost
falling down in her frantic haste to reach the kitchen. Something
unusual had happened. Virginia shoved Milly Ann to the floor and stood
up. Matty's appearance, with chattering teeth and bulging eyes,
brought Jinnie forward a few steps.

"He's daid! Yer pa's daid!" shivered Matty. "And the house is full of
spirits. They're standin' grinnin' in the corners. I'm goin' hum now,
little missy. I'm goin' to my ole man. You'd better come along fer
to-night."

Jinnie heard the moaning call of the pine trees as the winter's voice
swept through them,--the familiar sound she loved, yet at which she
trembled. Confused thoughts rolled through her mind; her father's fear
for her; his desire that she should seek another home. She could not
stay in Mottville Corners; she could not go with Matty. No, of course
not! Yet her throat filled with longing s