"You won't be afraid, darling?" was Mabel's fond question, as she made out her list.
"Afraid?" echoed the other. "Why, no; what is there to be afraid of? It is perfectly safe here."
"Yes, I know; otherwise, I would not leave you even for the day."
"The house is big," said Jessie, "but we have near neighbors. Besides, there's Mike and Katie, and Mrs. Lawrence. Oh, I'm all right, Mabel dear."
"See that the house is securely fastened;" was Mabel's parting injunction as she kissed her sister goodbye. "Look for us at the sound of the whistle to-night."
"Indade, Miss Jessie," said Katie a little later, her face in a pucker, "indade it's not right for the loikes af yees to be here all alone."
"Why, Katie, what's the matter," laughed the girl; "you don't call this being alone, do you?"
"Ah, but haven't yees heard the quare noises in the tower, Miss Jessie? An' shure there's a ghost in this house--Holy Mother defind us!" and Katie piously crossed herself in real terror.
"A ghost, Katie! I'm ashamed of you. It is only the wind. It blows here fearfully. You might turn a regiment loose in the house, and they could scarcely make more noise than these big, rattling windows."
"Arrah, me jewel," protested Katie; "there's a turrible walkin' about in the tower ivery night these two noights. An' didn't yees hear about the awful murther in the town over beyant us an' the murtherer iscapin'? Sich a quare murther, too, with the finger rings all left on, and the money purse in the pocket. Ah, Miss Jessie, a murtherin' ghost won't niver be laid."
"You silly Kate!" said Jessie merrily. "Don't be afraid, I'll take care of the ghosts. We are all right."
After a cup of tea and a bit of toast, Jessie repaired to her chamber on the second floor and picked up some trifle she was embroidering, to beguile the time of waiting. Mabel and George would get in about nine, when they were to relate the day's doings around a good warm supper.
Katie was to follow and sit with her mistress, after she had done some righting up down stairs. Mike was bent upon routing an army of rats in the barn. Mrs. Lawrence had retired to her room with a nervous headache.
The high winds from the sea had lulled, and for once the house was utterly quiet--so quiet that the stillness became oppressive. Meanwhile the young girl sat in her bower of luxury, softly humming a favorite air, and very happy in thoughts of her approaching marriage. While deep in her smiling reverie, a stealthy footstep distinctly sounded outside her door.